that he ever got these pictures out of Sicily.
Anyway, that's not al he got.' 'Oh?'
Darcy shrugged, but in no way negligently. 'He was found hanging from a bridge in Naples a month later. Suicide - apparently.'
Harry looked at the other photographs. One of a squat man in a flying suit, and the other of a cadaverous type in a valet's uniform. 'And these people?'
The little stubby one is their pilot,' Darcy said. 'His name is Luigi Manoza. Until a couple of years ago he was working for one of the New York families. A local war took out his employer, and there were threats on Luigi's life, too. He fled to relatives in Sicily, ended up working for the Francezcis.
The other one is their chauffeur, Mario. He doesn't have a second name - not that he's telling anyway. But he's a dead ringer for a certain "Mario" who was a highly-paid hit man for the Scarlatis in Rome in the late Sixties. He was "the best" at his infamous job; just the right sort of chap to be driving for the Francezcis!'
'Nice,' said Harry. 'But something seems wrong. I mean, for people who want to appear divorced from the Mob, these Francezcis seem to employ an awful lot of ex-soldiers.'
Darcy shrugged. 'In Manoza's case, he was on the periphery. So he's a pilot, but he could just as easily be a gardener. The Mafia employs ordinary people, too, you know. As for Mario: he has no criminal record, was never brought to trial. It's hardly surprising: "the best" never are.'
The Necroscope dropped the photographs back on the desk and stood up. He held out his hand and Darcy shook it. But as Harry headed for the door:
'Harry,' Darcy said. 'I can stil find you some clean money if you want it.' Harry paused. 'I'D make out,' he said. 'I'm not short, not yet anyway.
It depends how long it takes to find Brenda and the baby - if I find them. You're sure there's nothing your end?'
Darcy shook his head. 'But we're keeping our eyes and our ears wide open.'
He watched Harry open the door and step out into the corridor. He wanted to cal him back, but didn't. He wanted to ask after his health again: were there any other problems - inside his head, maybe? But he didn't. It was always the Branch first. And if the Necroscope had looked back, seen Darcy's face right then, he would have known something was wrong. And maybe Darcy wanted him to. But Harry didn't look back.
Instead, over his shoulder, he said, Thanks, Darcy. It's as much as I can ask.'
And then he closed the door behind him ...
That night, Harry caled Bonnie Jean. Why, he could never have said. Maybe it was the three-quarters ful moon hanging in the sky over the budding trees beyond his garden wal. (Though why that should be a motive was just as big a mystery.) Or maybe it was simply that he'd run out of B.J. 's wine, which was probably why he'd left Seatle and headed for home in the first place.
But these were arguments the Necroscope had had before, if only with himself. And Bonnie Jean ... was just another of the mysteries of his life. Or was she more than that? An innocent? Harry was sure she was. But how innocent can someone who goes out intent on murder be? Except Harry wasn't alowed to think that way, and so he setled for innocent. Also, she was a damn good-looking woman and someone to talk to. Company, yes. Wel, if she wanted to be.
And it looked like it could be a long night, spent tossing and turning. Especialy if Harry didn't have anything to drink. And damn it, he intended not to have anything to drink! So why cal Bonnie Jean?
But he called her anyway.
First he got one of her girls, then Bonnie Jean. She was in the bar, said she'd take it upstairs. (For privacy, he imagined. She wanted privacy, to talk to him.) And she must realy have flown up those stairs, for after a few seconds:
'Harry? Is it really mah wee man himself?' Her voice - or words -were like warm fingers driven home through his butter brain, pressing buttons, switching channels, conjuring a different him. Then B.J. dropped the accent but retained her husky breathlessness: 'Funny, but I've realy missed you, Harry ... "
And whatever misgivings he'd had - if he had had any at al - were