roadwork, but tastes great." He smiled at her and cocked his head a little to one side. "Join me one day-just for the breakfast?"
"All right." Bagabond nodded and then hesitantly smiled. For the first time, the smile was reflected in her eyes as well. "Yes, I might like that."
"How about tomorrow?"
She stared at him, once again without expression. "Don't tell me you have another date," Paul said. "What time?"
"Seven. I can pick you up--"
"I'll meet you. Where?" Bagabond concentrated on suppressing the thought that she was making a big mistake. "The market, at Greenwich and Seventh."
"You two look deep in thought." Rosemary strode down the steps. "I know that Popinjay was trying to help, but there are times I wish aces wouldn't get involved. It would make my life simpler. Yours too, Paul." She shook her head ruefully. "Paul, go on back to the office. Work with Chavez. Suzanne and I have some business to take care of."
"See you later," he said to Bagabond, shaking hands with her.
As the two women watched Paul walk back toward the DA's building, Rosemary looked at Bagabond speculatively. "He likes you, you know. Of course Jack's a union man and undoubtedly makes a lot more money, but Paul has certain attractions." Rosemary cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. "Great ass."
"Twentieth-century Madonna?"
"That was a long time ago." She changed the subject. "Where's Jack'?"
"Let's go someplace quiet where I can concentrate. I need an alley." Bagabond started to walk toward the corner.
"An alley," said Rosemary. "You hang out in the classiest places. Didn't anyone ever tell you to stay out of Manhattan alleys?" She caught up with Bagabond and they crossed Lafayette Street. "Places like that, people can get killed."
The darkness in the confessional was somehow soothing. The air in the box smelled even more strongly of the sea and Father Squid's bulk was a comforting presence on the other side of the frosted glass window. He made small sighing sounds as he considered Jennifer's story.
"I believe that I know of the joker who is accosting you," the priest finally said. "He is not of my children, but there are few jokers who have not come by at least once or twice to hear the Word. He goes by the name Wyrm. His reputation is not of the best." Father Squid fell into a meditative silence that lasted for some minutes. "I am perplexed, but perhaps understanding will come. Come." He rose to his feet, swept back the heavy drapery that curtained his side of the confessional, and stepped out of the box. Jennifer followed. "I must make some inquiries." He held up a broad, spatulate hand and wiggled his long fingers to silence the question he saw on Jennifer's face. "Never fear. I shall be most subtle and circumspect. Make yourself comfortable. Rest. You are as safe here as if you were in your own home. Perhaps infinitely safer if your suspicions are correct."
His cheeks bunched again as if he were smiling, and Jennifer nodded. She watched as Father Squid waddled off, making faint squishing sounds on the flagstone flooring as he went with ponderous dignity to the rear of the church.
Roulette was approaching climax, and she tried to resist, the effort causing her thighs to cramp and nausea to wash about the tendrils of fire that filled her belly and groin. Tachyon with that damnable sensitivity fixed his pale eyes on her, and slowed his thrusts, his hands caressing her breasts, sweeping down her sides.
Release!
And as quickly as the command was given it was withdrawn. The tide sank back, growling its frustration in a voice that was the Astronomer's.
Her mind and body were once more in harmony, no longer rent by her fear and indecision. Her passion rose, and she rocked in a frenzied rhythm, matching each thrust of his small, compact body.
The shrill ring of the front bell tore through the apartment. Beneath her hands she felt his muscles tighten and leap, and his cock slid free.
"Damn, damn, damn," he whispered, urgently trying to fit himself once more into her. She reached down to help, and their hands bumped and tangled, sliding on the slick skin of his penis.
Ring.
He was finally in, but the ringing persisted, and he lay flaccid and inert atop her.
He sighed, briefly closed his eyes, and said, "I think the moment is ruined."
"Yes."
"Shall I answer the door?"
"I don't think they'll go away otherwise."
"Wait here."
He rose, and shrugged into an elaborate brocade dressing gown of black silk shot through