He looked up at her as if he wasn’t certain exactly what he was looking at. “It’s not a playground game of tag. If they kept the rules, they’d be on our side. If he comes back, then we arrest him.” He squashed a little Plasticine man into a Plasticine ball and began to mash it out into a flat sheet, pinching it between finger and thumb. “In the old days,” he said, “they could claim sanctuary in a church. If you stayed in the church the law couldn’t touch you. Even if you killed a man. Of course, it limited your social life. Right.”
He looked at her as if he expected her to leave now. She said, “He killed Maeve Livingstone. He’s been cheating his clients blind for years.”
“And?”
“We should be bringing him to justice.”
“Don’t let it get to you,” he said.
Daisy thought,
“Don’t let it get to you,” he repeated. He folded the Plasticine sheet into a rough cube, then squeezed it viciously between finger and thumb. “I don’t let any of it get to me. Think of it as if you were a traffic warden. Grahame Coats is just a car that parked on the double yellow lines but drove off before you were able to give him a ticket. Yes?”
“Sure,” said Daisy. “Of course. Sorry.”
“Right,” he said.
She went back to her desk, went to the Police internal Web site, and examined her options for several hours. Finally, she went home. Carol was sitting in front of
“I’m taking a break,” said Daisy. “I’m going on holiday.”
“You don’t have any holiday time left,” pointed out Carol reasonably.
“Too bad,” said Daisy. “I’m too old for this shit.”
“Oh. Where are you going?”
“I’m going to catch a crook,” said Daisy.
FAT CHARLIE
LIKED CARIBBEAIR. THEY MIGHT HAVE BEEN AN INTERNATIONAL airline, but they felt like a local bus company. The flight attendant called him “darlin’ ” and told him jus’ to sit anywhere that struck his fancy.He stretched out across three seats and went to sleep. In Fat Charlie’s dream he was walking beneath copper skies and the world was silent and still. He was walking toward a bird, vaster than cities, its eyes aflame, its beak agape, and Fat Charlie walked into the beak and down the creature’s throat.
Then, in the way of dreams, he was in a room, its walls covered with soft feathers and with eyes, round like the eyes of owls, which did not blink.
Spider was in the center of the room, his legs and arms extended. He was held up by chains made of bone, like the bones of a chicken’s neck, and they ran from each corner of the room, and held him tightly, like a fly in a web.
The bone chains pulled and tugged at Spider’s flesh, and Fat Charlie could see the pain in his face.
There was a pause. The two brothers stared at each other.
Fat Charlie woke, shivering. The flight attendant brought him coffee, and he drank it gratefully. He was awake now, and he had no desire to go back to sleep, so he read the Caribbeair Magazine and learned many useful things about Saint Andrews.