Tachyon.
"It'll take a few days," she said. " I have to familiarize myself with the target out of the catalog, know what moves to make. I stay in the cell the whole time."
She'd made up her mind, he realized. The thing was going to happen.
He remembered an old film he'd seen, The Third Man. Orson Welles had taken Joseph Cotten up on a Ferris wheel, pointed at all the tiny little people below, and said, "If you could have a million dollars, but one of those little people dies, would you do it?"
Some stranger, some little antlike speck below the Ferris wheel, was going to end up in a dog's body and have her bank account plundered.
"When you're free of them, call me," he said. "The number is 741-PINE. P-1-N-E. There will be an answering machine. Leave a message where I can find you."
"Okay."
"The number?"
"741-PINE."
"Good."
He started the elevator again and got off two floors down.
He had things to do.
Shad decided it was time to find out a few things about Tachyon. He had to start somewhere, and where he ended up was the public library and the back-issue newspaper files. The responsible papers were too discreet about what they knew to be of much use, but the tabloid made a lot more of it all.
TACHYON QUITS! BROKEN HEART CITED. That was the headline on the Post. Shad looked at the inevitable pinup on page 3: "Happy Holly" was said to like "professional wrestling, baby ducks, and naughty nighties for that Someone Special," a strange summation that had Shad picturing her displaying herself for a slavering Haystack Calhoun in a frilly negligee with little yellow ducks on it.
Then he turned to the article on Tachyon. Dr. Tachyon, it said, had resigned his position at the Jokertown Clinic. "Intimates," the article said, reported that Tachyon was frantic about the disappearance of his "one-eyed Jill," Cody Havero, and had been unable to concentrate on work. There was a strong implication that he'd been spending his days in an alcoholic coma. Dr. Finn, whom Shad knew both as Wall Walker and Mr. Gravemold, hinted gently at Tachyon's breakdown and also praised Blaise Andrieux, Tachyon's grandson, who had been a "tower of strength in this ordeal." Which didn't much sound like the Blaise that Shad had heard about, but maybe the kid had grown up some.
There was also a lengthy rehash of Tachyon's history, concentrating on his "drunken peregrinations" following the death of Blythe van Rensselaer. There was also a description of Dr. Havero's "controversial career," along with more speculation to the effect that Cody had been assassinated by a CIA conspiracy anxious to cover up something they'd done in Vietnam. The paper hadn't found anyone reputable to report this last, which came from a "professional psychic known to the police." I'll just bet she's known, Shad thought.
Shad narrowed his eyes and looked at Cody Havero's picture. The scarred, one-eyed face looked interesting. Maybe she was someone he ought to concern himself about. He could put money out on the street, maybe hear something that the police and FBI hadn't.
He spent the rest of the day doing just that and came up with zip.
"I've been trying to sleep," Croyd said. "But it's no good. I'll probably be awake a couple days at least before I can drift off."
"I could use a flyer around that warehouse. I want to track who goes in and out."
Croyd gave a peculiar nasal sigh. "Come by and bring more bugs. We'll talk about it."
"Yo. Homeboy."
"Homes here."
"New arrivals at the warehouse. Three people in a limousine. One of them's a lady with a bald head. Then there's a bodyguard and-you're not gonna believe this."
Shad, whose feet were planted to the vertical surface outside Tachyon's window, was at this point prepared to believe anything. "Try me."
"St. John Latham. You know, the mouthpiece."
"Yeah. I know who he is."
"Some other people showed up just this minute. Some kids in a van."
"Don't let them see you. They're probably jumpers." Shad couldn't be certain if the following squawk came from Croyd's throat or from careless use of the squelch button. Finally Croyd's voice came back. "Funny company you're keeping."
"The entertainment never stops."
Croyd signed off, and Shad relieved a cramp by shifting his stance outside Tachyon's window. Thus far, the evening had been pretty dull, consisting of Tachyon and Blaise polishing off a couple of microwaved TV dinners and a six-pack of Rolling Rock. Shad had always thought of Tachyon as having a more refined palate, but