Jokers Wild Page 0,70

This would fill him up until he ate at the Haiphong Lily.

A wave of nausea and dizziness hit him in midstride. He dropped the pretzels and fell to his knees. Darkness was creeping in around the edge of his vision.

"You sick or something, mister?" he heard someone ask. He saw the limousine pull up next to him. A mirrored window lowered slowly. The Astronomer smiled at him. Spector doubled over and pressed his face to the cold concrete. He didn't have the strength to move. He closed his eyes, fighting for breath. He could still smell the pretzels.

A car door slammed. He felt hands lifting him just as he passed out.

Fortunato introduced her as Water Lily, but she told Hiram she'd prefer to be called Jane. "I know how you feel," he said, with one of his most charming smiles. "They used to call me Fatman." She seemed shy and sweet, but the way she was dressed would simply not do. Blue jeans had their place, but it was not in Aces High, and her sneakers were unbearably ratty. "A droll fellow, that one," Hiram said conversationally, indicating the smirking likeness of Jumpin' Jack Flash on her faded T-shirt.

"Will he be here tonight?" Jane asked him.

"I'm afraid not," Hiram said. "He received an invitation via Dr. Tachyon, of course, but sent his regrets. He did say a friend of his might attend, whatever that means. Come with me, if you please. It's a madhouse out here right now"

Hiram escorted Jane through the din of the restaurant to the relative sanity of his office, and buzzed for Anthony. When the chauffeur arrived, he introduced him to Jane and said, "Give him your sizes."

"Sizes?" She seemed confused.

"The dinner tonight is a formal affair," Hiram explained, "and there's no reason a lovely young lady like yourself shouldn't look her best. It will have to be off the rack, I'm afraid, we can't have you leaving to go shopping. Fortunato insists that we all stay together, and I think his tactical instincts are sound." He turned to Anthony. "Something in blue or green, I think. Off the shoulder. With hose and accessories. Are you comfortable in high heels, Jane, or would you prefer to wear flats?"

"Wait a minute," she said, her eyes wide and apprehensive. "I can't afford a lot of expensive clothing."

"Heels," Hiram said. "Definitely. You have lovely legs. Aces High will take care of everything." He smiled. "Don't worry, I'll find a way to deduct it. I have an extraordinary accountant."

She shook her head. "No. I'm sorry, I can't let you do that. "

Hiram was nonplussed. "Why ever not?" he said.

"I can't accept a lot of expensive clothing from you as a gift. I can't. I won't."

"My dear," Hiram said uncertainly. "You put me at a loss. Mind you, I don't enforce a rigid dress code at the dinner, but it would be a shame if-"

Anthony spoke up unexpectedly. "Perhaps the lady would accept the clothing as a loan." Both Hiram and Jane turned to look at him in surprise. "If I may be so bold to suggest it."

"I couldn't," she said. "Even as a loan. I quit my job this afternoon, and even if I get another one, I'd never be able to pay you back waiting tables."

Hiram stroked his beard thoughtfully, and smiled. "You might," he said, "if the tables were at Aces High. Not tonight, of course, but starting tomorrow, when we reopen to the public. I promise you, the tips are excellent, and we can always use a good worker."

Jane seemed to think it over for a moment. "All right. I'll do that. You can take what I owe you out of my pay." She looked at Hiram evenly, with a ghost of a smile.

"Excellent," Hiram said. "Now, I'm afraid I've got work to attend to. If you're hungry, find Curtis and he'll have them bring you some lunch."

Hiram found himself staring at the closed door after Jane had gone. She was far too young for him, but she was lovely, with an air of innocence about her that he found very erotic.

She reminded him of Eileen Carter, who had been almost as young as Jane when she and Hiram had first met, years ago. Innocence and strength; a potent combination. The girl would be lucky indeed if the blend didn't get her killed.

He frowned, made a small reflexive fist, and thought about the dead. An adolescent boy with delusions of glory, and a big man all in