Jokertown Shuffle

by George R. R. Martin

  Except for a drunk snoring on a nearby bench, the park was quiet. Jerry crouched behind a row of half-dead shrubs with Jay Ackroyd. Jay had done E I. work for Jerry in the past, and they got along. Ackroyd was expensive, but then, he was a projecting teleport. His power had inspired the nickname "Popinjay."

  "You sure she comes home this way?" Jay asked, shifting his weight uneasily.

  "Every night I'm aware of, for the past three weeks," Jerry said. "She's been to the Rox at least three times, so I figure she must be a jumper by now."

  "She have anything to do with what happened to Veronica?" Jay's eyes glimmered in the moonlight.

  Jerry shook his head and pointed. A teenage girl was walking quickly toward them, her sneakers squeaking slightly on the walk. She had her hands tucked into the pockets of her worn denim jacket. Her straight brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

  "Now," Jerry whispered. "Don't let her see us."

  Jay pointed his first finger toward the girl like the barrel of a gun. The girl disappeared. There was a loud pop. The drunk sat up on his bench and looked around, then lay carefully back down.

  "Let's go," Jay said.

  Jerry had spent two months and a bundle of cash getting the basement ready. He could see her pacing around inside, but she couldn't spot him through the unbreakable one-way glass. There were handprints smeared on the glass where she'd been looking for a seam. Jay was waiting upstairs. He would probably be better at interrogation, but Jerry wanted to keep the information to himself.

  Jerry flipped a switch. "You're in trouble," he said. His voice was electronically distorted to sound like aliens from a fifties science-fiction film.

  She took a step back and looked around.

  "The speakers are in the ceiling, but there's no way out," Jerry said. "Unless we let you out. And that won't happen unless you tell us what we want to know"

  "Who the hell are you?" She rubbed her nose. "Someone with enough on the ball to trap a jumper." Jerry was enjoying intimidating her, then remembered what had happened to make her into one of Latham's bodyswitchers. "We don't want to hurt you."

  She continued to look around the mirrored room, her eyes hard. "I've been hearing that all my life."

  "What's your name?" He asked.

  "Valerie." She sat down. "What are you going to do with me?"

  "Let you go=" Jerry paused, "as soon as you tell us what we want to know."

  "And if I don't?" Veronica started picking at her fingernails. Jerry sighed audibly. The distortion made it sound spooky. "Then we'll turn you over to the government. They're offering a fortune, under the table, of course, for a live jumper. They need to do some experiments to try to isolate the genetic abnormality that produced you. They sew your eyelids together to make you harmless. At least, that's what I hear." Valerie's eyes got big, and she bit her lip. "Bullshit. You're feeding me bullshit."

  Jerry knew the only way to get anything out of her was really to scare her. "You just don't know about our government, little girl. I hope you get old enough to wise up some. But if that's the way you feel, there's no point in talking." Jerry left it at that and waited.

  Valerie's shoulders slumped. "Are you still there?" Jerry paused for effect. "What is it?"

  "Tell me what you want to know"

  "What do you know about Latham?" Jerry asked. "Who?" Valerie looked genuinely puzzled.

  Jerry shook his head, mad at himself for making a mistake. "Prime."

  Valerie hugged herself. "He did that thing to make me one of the gang. I've only been in it for a couple of weeks. Zelda and Blaise are the ones you need to talk to."

  "You must know something. Plans he might have. Anything." Jerry rubbed his palms together.

  Valerie shook her head, then tilted it. "I don't know if this is what you mean, but he likes blond boys. Not to be in the gang, but for other things. At least, that's what Molly says."

  "Does the name David Butler sound familiar?" Jerry asked. "I think so. I don't know" Valerie got up and started pacing. "Please let me go."

  Jerry pushed a button, a signal to Jay to come downstairs. "So you can go back to them."

  "I can't do that now. You know that." She went back to worrying her nails. "Bloat would know I told." She clutched her hands over her chest. "You don't know what they'd do." Ackroyd opened the door and stepped into the room. Jerry cut off the audio to the mirrored cage. "Get what you needed?" Jay asked.

  "Nah. But it was worth a shot." Jerry pointed to Valerie. "I guess you can send her back to the park now."

  Jay shook his head. "I think you'd be better off telling me everything, but you are the one who signs the checks." He made his hand into the familiar gunshape.

  "Trust me," Jerry said.

  Valerie disappeared. There was a muffled pop. "Mrs. Ackroyd didn't raise any boys that stupid."

  "The check is in the mail," Jerry said, smiling.

  "You going to be at the memorial service tomorrow?" Jerry stopped smiling. He'd been trying not to think about it. "Yeah," he said. "Want a lift there? I could use the company." Jay nodded.

  People were taking turns speaking, remembering the man who had been their friend. It had rained off and on all morning but was dry enough inside the tomb.

  Jerry looked up at the replica of the JB-I. Jerry hadn't ever been much interested in Jetboy, even after he drew the wild card, and had never felt much about the young flier's death. It was impossible to think about a world without Tachyon, though. Jerry was still trying to get his mind around the idea. If it weren't for the Takisian, Jerry would still be a giant ape. He hadn't been able to help Tachyon any more than he'd been able to save Kenneth. Latham was responsible for the deaths. He had to be made to pay.

  The clothes of those attending were a stark contrast to the gray weather. Almost everyone had dressed in outrageously colorful outfits because "Tach would have wanted it that way." Jerry was wearing a lime-green suit with a paisley-print shirt and rainbow scarf. Ackroyd had dressed in an everyday suit. "A man in my line of work can't afford to look stupid, even for a minute," he'd said.

  Father Squid stepped forward to speak. "I cannot claim to have understood all that he did, but his was a great heart, full of compassion and understanding."

  Jerry glanced over and saw Cody. He eased his way through the crowd toward her. Her bad eye was to him, but she turned just as he reached her side. "Mr. Strauss," she said. "I haven't seen you recently. I suppose I should have expected to today, though."

  Jerry fished a twenty-thousand-dollar check from his pocket and slipped it to her. "I know. It's hard to go near the clinic, now that he's gone."

  Cody took the check and tucked it away. "Thanks. Hard as Finn and I have been working to raise funds, we don't seem to be getting anywhere."

  "Bad times," Jerry said.

  Cody nodded. There was a strain in her face he'd never seen before, something that didn't have anything to do with being a doctor.

  "How could Tach get jumped?"

  Cody shook her head and looked down. "They jumped me first. Used me as a Judas goat. Tach never could think straight when there was a woman involved."

  Jerry could understand that well enough. "I guess there's no chance that somehow he's still alive?" He had an almost blind faith in Tachyon's ability to work miracles.

  "He's gone," Cody said, her voice flat, weary. "But how can you be sure?"

  "Blaise used to visit me once a week. He wanted me to know what he was doing to his grandfather. He told me everything. He kept moving Tachyon from body to body. All jokers, each more twisted than the last. He brought me obscene pictures. Is this what you want to fuck? he'd ask me. Is this what turns you on? But finally he got bored with the game. That was when he killed Tachyon." She looked away. "He brought me pictures of that, too."

  "Maybe he was lying," Jerry said. "Trying to hurt you."

  "The nrisoners were all kept in the warehouse," Cody said. "If he was still alive, he would have been freed in the raid, along with the res
t of us. He's dead, Mr. Strauss. Denying it only prolongs the pain."

  Jerry figured she was right. He put his hand on her shoulder, then walked back over to Ackroyd.

  "Trying to pick up Cody at Tach's memorial service is a gesture he'd probably understand," Jay said, smiling. Jerry's shoulders slumped. "I wasn't trying to pick her up."

  "I know, I know," Jay said. "What is it about tombs that makes people lose their sense of humor? Let's get out of here before someone asks us to make a speech."

  Jerry sighed. "How about dinner?" He didn't feel like being alone.

  "Now you're talking," Jay said. "Being morose gives me an appetite."

  The pair made their way to the edge of the crowd and out onto the rain-slicked concrete. A rainbow arced over Staten Island. Jerry wondered if there would be a pot of gold on his doorstep when he got home. It was the last thing he needed.

  Jerry sat alone in the private room of the Haiphong Lily. Half the Gambione family had died in this room, and he wasn't happy about the apparent thinness of the walls, but he could live with it. His look was burly, middle-aged, and Italian. The person he was meeting thought he was a Mafia kingpin from Vegas. He'd been laying the background for the disguise for several weeks.

  The door slid open, and the Lily's owner ushered in a young man in a pressed dark gray suit. The man looked more Greek than Italian. His eyes and mouth were impassive and deadly. Jerry studied his face and build. Never could tell when it might come in handy.

  The door closed. "Sit down," Jerry said.

  "Thank you." The man unbuttoned his coat and quietly took his seat. Jerry passed him the menu. "No, thanks. I'm not here to eat."

  "Whatever." Jerry ran a finger cautiously along his lower lip. "You come highly recommended."

  The man shrugged. "There aren't many of us left. To still be around, you have to be the best."

  Jerry nodded and pulled an envelope out of his coat pocket, then slid it across the table. Inside was everything he'd managed to find out about Latham's habits and associates in the past months and twenty thousand dollars in cash. He'd removed his fingerprints when handling the paper and didn't have any now either. "How soon can you start?"

  The man opened the envelope and slowly went through the contents. "Soon as I'm out the door."

  "He's heavily guarded most of the time," Jerry said. "Watch out for the kids especially."

  "I'll want another twenty when I'm done." The killer carefully tucked the money back into the envelope.

  Jerry nodded.

  The man stood and took a step toward the door, then turned and smiled. "Want any souvenirs? I do that for free."

  "No," Jerry said. "I'll save the news clippings."

  The man nodded and left.

  Jerry sat in the Tomlin International Airport, fidgeting in one of the plastic chairs. A newspaper was folded across his lap. Mafia Killer Found in East River was a front-page headline. Next to the story was a picture of Alex "Buttons" Parylos. Jerry should have known Latham would be too tough for one man, even a professional.

  "Delta Flight twenty-three now arriving from Chicago at gate nine," came a soft voice over the public address.

  Jerry bounced up from his chair and shouldered his way through to the front of the receiving area. Latham would have to wait; this was more important.

  After a couple of minutes, the passengers began trickling out of the plane. After fifty or so had passed by him, Jerry panicked and wondered if he'd gotten the wrong flight number or come the wrong day. He'd made that sort of mistake before. She was almost in his arms before he saw her. She'd grown her blond hair out several inches and dropped some weight, but her smile was the same.

  "Hey, bro," Beth said, setting down her blue overnight bag and giving him a big hug. "Long time no see."

  Jerry squeezed Beth hard and kissed her on the forehead. Her touch and smell were both wonderful and familiar. "Too long, as far as I'm concerned. I can't believe Chicago has that much to offer."

  Beth took a step back and rolled her eyes. "We're not going to go through how I don't love you anymore before dinner, are we?"

  Jerry laughed. "No, before dinner is for your presents. Later on, I had you penciled-in for some serious doting. How long are you in town for this time?"

  "At least a month." Beth picked up her bag and tucked her arm under his. "Presents, huh? After the baggage handlers are done with me, you can have me practically all to yourself "

  Jerry knew that wasn't really true. Beth still seemed married to his brother, Kenneth, although he'd been dead for months. "After showering you with gifts, it's dinner wherever you want tonight."

  Beth nudged him as they walked down the concourse. "Why, sir, you're positively the most generous multimillionaire I know," she said, in a bad Southern-belle imitation. "I'm sure you're going to spoil me for anyone else."

  Jerry straightened his shoulders and let his voice slip into Clark Gable. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."

  Jerry pulled the Olds up to the gate and punched in his code. He changed it every couple of days, just in case. The wrought iron creaked and opened. He eased up the drive and pulled up to the garage. The door there had a coded entry as well.

  Beth wrinkled her forehead. "Is this going to open up on the Jerrycave?"

  Jerry pulled into the garage and waited for the door to close again. "Rich people have been getting jumped, you know" Beth nodded. "I thought that was mostly high-profile types like Dixon."

  "Mostly," Jerry said. "But you can't be too careful. They might decide to go slumming on us old-money types." He got out of the car and trotted around to her side to open the door. "Just one more set of coded locks, and we're in."

  "And just in time. I need a shower." Beth ran her fingers through her hair. "This stuff needs help."

  "Want any company?" Jerry had made several tame advances, but Beth had always gently declined.

  She sighed and stroked his face. "I'd like that a lot, Jerry. That's the main reason I'm here."

  Jerry stood motionless for a second. He hadn't really considered the possibility that she'd take him up on it. "Really?" Two syllables were all he could manage.

  "Really," she said. "Now get us inside."

  Jerry walked up to the door and paused with his hand over the keypad, the combination momentarily gone from his mind. His fingers took over and punched it in. The locks clicked, and Jerry opened the door.

  They kept their clothes on until they got upstairs. Jerry watched her undress. Her legs were a little heavy, and she didn't have much of a waist, but he couldn't imagine a more desirable female body.

  The bathroom was big enough to pitch a tent in, one of the perks of being fabulously wealthy.

  "How hot do you like it?" he asked, turning on the shower. Beth smiled and gave him a peck on the lips. "Can't stop talking in movie dialogue, can you? I like it really hot to begin with. We can cool it down a bit after a while." She slid open the glass door and led him into the shower.

  Jerry picked up the soap. "Want me to do your back first?"

  "Sounds good." She leaned forward and let the water run over her head as Jerry began to soap her shoulders.

  He worked his way down her back and paused at the base of her spine. "I hope you're not planning on missing any spots," she said.

  Jerry slid the soap over her bottom. He almost resented the slippery film that kept him from actually touching her flesh. "Now who's talking straight from the movies?"

  Beth turned around and put her arms around his neck. "Kiss me, dummy." She put her lips on his and pushed her tongue into his mouth.

  Jerry relaxed and let his hands roam all over her. She twisted her fingers into his damp hair and bit his lip. Jerry closed his eyes and let go completely.

  This was going to be as good as he'd always imagined.

  He ran his fingers slowly up and down the hollow of her back. Beth reached around and took his hand, then brought it to her mouth and kissed the tips of his fingers.

  "I can d
ie happy now," he said.

  "Don't say that, even just kidding." Beth rolled over and looked at him, unblinking. "With me it's not funny."

  Jerry pulled her close and kissed her neck. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking." This was positively the worst time to make her think of Kenneth. "You know what's weird?"

  She breathed heavily onto his shoulder. "What?"

  "The better sex is, the harder it is to remember. I think that's why at the beginning, couples don't do much of anything else. You try to have something to keep, but it always slips away like a dream. Doesn't seem fair, somehow."

  "Is that a hint?" Beth lowered her mouth to his chest and bit his nipple.

  Jerry laughed. "I don't know if I'm up for another take right now"

  Beth smiled. "You underestimate me. It's like being a lion tamer." She reached down between his legs. "Enough skill and determination, and the beast will obey you."

  Jerry arched his back, pushing his head into the pillow. The phone beeped. Beth looked up at him.

  "Let the machine downstairs answer it," he said. "That's what I bought it for."

  "I love a man with his priorities straight." She began to nibble and lick him.

  "Oh, yeah," he said. "You're one hell of a lion tamer."

  He wandered downstairs to get the phone messages. The first one was several hours old. He hoped it wasn't important. Jerry pushed the button, waited, and heard Ackroyd's voice. "Jerry. I have it on pretty good authority that Veronica is going to be transferred to an institution upstate in a few days. This place is famous for experimental and dangerous methods of treatment. Veronica might not do so well there. I figured you would want to know. I'm busy with other commitments right now, or I'd help you out myself. Keep in touch." Jerry sank onto the couch, not hearing the other messages. In spite of the problems they'd had, he couldn't abandon Veronica to some nutcase shrinks.