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with good men like Jeff Cox, Dave Veck, Mike Ward, and others. He feared one day Robyn might be too close when he was meant to be the target.
    "Hold on here," he told her. "I'm going for another drink."
    She knew this was a lie.
    The kitchen door at Swisher's back came open just as he was slipping from the booth. Robyn saw the two men pushing through, but not their faces, since Joe's massive form blocked her view. She responded to the fact they'd come in through the rear, again in summery trench coats. She shouted a warning to Joe and raised her gun to fire at the same instant that Joe wheeled with his weapon, the barrel finding Donna Thorpe's form. Thorpe's people shouted FBI as they, too, whipped out weapons, the triggers cocked.
    "Son of a bitch, Swisher!" shouted Thorpe. "Put that horse pistol away! Christ, you still carrying a .357?" She ordered her men to stand down. Cops at every table in Transfusions had dived below tables, turning them over, their weapons trained on the unfamiliar G-men. "I just want to talk to you, damnit!" finished Donna Thorpe.
    The standoff was complete; the room in deathly silence. They could hear the sweat trickling down their faces.
    "What the hell's the idea sneakin' up on me like that? You're lucky your face isn't in the kitchen right now," shouted Swisher in return. "I thought you were in Virginia!"
    Thorpe took the dig without a word. She'd just flown in from Lincoln. "I helicoptered here. These are my men. I didn't know you were so goddamned jumpy, and I'm not thrilled at the idea my people knowing I'm asking favors of... of you. This must be Sergeant Muro. Oh, yes, now I recall." Her gaze lingered over Robyn. Robyn returned the cold stare.
    "Is this Dick Tracy shit necessary?" Robyn asked.
    Thorpe ignored this. "Can we talk somewhere, private, Swisher? If it weren't important—"
    "Upstairs, my place, come on."
    Thorpe addressed her three traveling companions. "You men, have a drink... relax."
    "Swish," said Robyn, staring hard at him. "Watch your back with this woman. Last time she used you, remember?"
    Swisher recalled the first time he'd ever laid eyes on Donna Thorpe. It had been at Cook County Hospital over the body of an earlier partner who'd died because Joe had not gotten to a backup position seconds sooner. By that time Thorpe had already had her boys break into Dr. Harrelson's office to steal Swisher's file. Thorpe had displayed the file there at the hospital. She had read from it and Joe had wanted to kill her; she was setting Joe up to do a little job for her or suffer the consequences. FBI blackmail, the surest kind.
    "Why don't you join us, Robyn?" Joe asked now.
    She was taken by surprise. "Sure."
    "No," said Thorpe. "This is strictly between us. A need-to-know basis on—"
    "Stuff your need-to-know shit. We know how you play."
    "This is highly sensitive in for —"
    "Hey, Thorpe, I have no secrets from my partner, not even about you."
    Swisher took Robyn by the arm and they started down the corridor to the stairwell that would take them to Swisher's place over the bar and grill. Thorpe, fingering the small plastic box she'd held since entering, said, "Fine, enchanting."
     

CHAPTER SIX
     
    Donna Thorpe laid out all the information she said she had on Dr. Maurice Ovierto, interchanging the name with his aliases. The information had been assembled, she said, by top agents at Quantico, but since Ovierto's whereabouts were now suspected to be the Chicago area, it was out of her "sector." This meant if she were to go through proper channels she'd be dealing with a man named Gerald Wymes, Chicago Field Office of the FBI. "A complete ass."
    She went on to plead for Swisher's help. Swisher glanced at Dr. O's file. It was subcategorized five ways, by those victims of Ovierto's "rampage" who were caretakers, such as wardens, doctors, nurses; by random victims suspected or known to be the work of Ovierto; by police and FBI agents who'd succumbed to Dr. O's web of terror; by an