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bad,” he crooned, and he began to giggle.
    From far away he heard her thin voice saying, “Don’t, Christy. There’s something wrong in your head. Something wrong and dirty and twisted and evil—and crazy.”
    Outrage drowned out desire. She had used a forbidden word. You could not use that word to Christy. He yanked down on her wrist, yanked her forward into the smashing open-handed blow against her jaw. She sprawled back, her face going blank, sprawled like a boudoir doll and fell on the grass rug on her left side. She rolled completely over twice, ending up on her face, one arm cramped under her. The fall had torn one shoe off.
    Christy sat breathing hard, waiting for the anger-mist to clear away from his eyes. He began to wonder if once again he had struck a woman too hard. He watched her narrowly and sighed with relief as he saw the lift of her breathing. He got up, took the key off the bureau and carefully locked the door behind him as he left.
    The blue Texas dusk was settling over the land. A lurid and impossible sunset flamed in the west. Christy walked slowly down the main street to the nearest drugstore, filled with the warmth of anticipation. He bought some chocolates, looked up the tourist court number and shut himself in the phone booth.
    He asked for Mr. Brown and the woman said she’d get him to the phone. In a few minutes he heard Shaymen say cautiously, “Brown speaking.”
    “Drop the guard, junior. This is that man.”
    “You just get in?”
    “I’ve been talking to the pigeon. You did good.”
    “Thanks.”
    “You got it to turn over?”
    Shaymen hesitated. “If I feel like it.”
    Christy’s throat began to swell. “Look, Shaymen. I steered you into this. You know your fee. Let’s not get coy.”
    “Right now I’m in the driver’s seat. If I wanted to cross you all the way, I wouldn’t even be here. And the phone is no place to talk about it.”
    “Drive in and pick me up, then. In front of the Texan Theater.”
    “Right away.”
    It was almost dark by the time Shaymen pulled up in front of the theater. The door swung open. Christy climbed in and sat back with a sigh. “Just drive out of town a ways and park, Shaymen.”
    They did not speak again until Shaymen had pulled off the road. He offered Christy a cigarette, used the dash lighter.
    Christy chuckled. “I know you can’t cross me on the amount, Shaymen. She had George’s twenty-eight thousand bucks. And I got the second twenty-eight thousand.”
    “I don’t like those thousand-dollar bills.”
    “I’ll handle those. I know a guy. Now why the coy act?”
    Shaymen lifted his cigarette slowly to his lips. “So you tipped me a week in advance where she’d be staying so I could lift the roll. You tell me a little, but not enough. I’m not a hired man. I told you that before. You want me working, I’ve got to be on the inside. Call it a partnership.”
    “You’re a greedy guy, aren’t you? It worked the way I figured. George sent me down with cash to replace what you took off Diana. The purchase has to go through because he needs the merchandise. Even paying double for it he makes a nice profit once the stuff is cut. Forty kilograms. That’s a little over fourteen hundred ounces. The retailers have to make their end, you know, but even so, George clears forty bucks an ounce. There’s fifty-six thousand bucks at least. Plus two times twenty-eight thousand is a hundred and twelve thousand bucks.”
    Shaymen started. “Are you going to try to grab the stuff without paying what you brought down?”
    “Right. Those boys from across the line are supposed to be rough, but the Mexican Government is cracking down on them. George has been busy lining up a new source. I got all the dope on that. So if this source is going to dry up anyway, all we got to do is freeze them out and grab the stuff without paying.”
    “How about George? Won’t they let him know they didn’t get paid?”
    Christy laughed his high whinnying