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why the town’s vigilance committee hasn’t set out on a rescue mission. It must be because the person running the show is incompetent. That mayor really sucks.
    You can say that again , D concurred.
    Can’t you just picture his wife and kids? That mayor is one ugly bastard. That right there’s proof he ain’t been eating right his whole life.
    D seemed to be applauding.
    Noticing the mayor’s reaction, the official standing beside him suggested, “Would you like me to replace you on that?”
    The mayor’s eyes were bloodshot and blue veins rose on his brow, twitching as if to put him out of his misery. Giving the other man no reply, the mayor kept the earphones pressed to his ears. His hands were trembling.
    If a person don’t eat the right stuff when he’s a kid, it affects his character. I’d say the ol’ mayor must’ve had rock-hard bread and water every day. There ain’t a bit of class in his face.
    As Beatrice chortled, the mayor slammed the earphones against the floor. Though all sorts of ways to take revenge raced through his brain, it was plain that he currently had no choice but to rely on the handsome Hunter.
    —
    “This way, please,” said the receptionist who’d heard Beatrice’s request, standing and showing them the way. Her face seemed half melted. She’d looked directly at D.
    Traveling down a long corridor, they soon came to a door with a plate affixed to it indicating it was the director’s office. A small desk along with a battered set of chairs and a coffee table for receiving visitors sat in front of a window, while behind the desk was a short, plump old woman who was just rising from her seat.
    “I’m Miss Manpoole, director of the Normanland Orphanage. And this is the assistant director, Mrs. Denon.”
    The tall, husky woman standing beside the desk bowed her head. She perfectly fit the image of a strict teacher.
    Running a plump finger across the documents on her desk, Director Manpoole said, “So, you wished to see our ward Franco Gilbey? And your name is . . .” Looking up at his hirsute countenance with surprise in her eyes, she continued, “Beatrice.”
    Seeing his nod, she shook her head a little.
    “Your occupation—a teacher?”
    “Yes.”
    Tilting her head to one side, Miss Manpoole looked at D and asked, “And this gentleman?”
    Her cheeks were flushed.
    “Oh, him? He’s my lack—I mean, he’s my apprentice . Yes, indeed.”
    “Well, he certainly is handsome. Isn’t he, Mrs. Denon?”
    “Oh, that he is!” Behind the schoolmarm’s thick spectacles were eyes that’d been emblazoned with the figure in black.
    “On receiving word from the reception area, I checked and found that Franco Gilbey is presently engaged in a physical education class. Would you be so good as to wait until it has concluded?”
    Looking troubled, Beatrice said, “Well, actually, I ain’t—I mean, I don’t have a lot of time.”
    “The boy is going to represent our orphanage in this Frontier sector’s soccer tournament. This is a crucial time for them. Are you certain you wouldn’t like to wait?”
    “No, that’s okay—I’ll be fine. As long as he’s doing well, I—well, I don’t need anything. We’ll be going now. Oh, I’d like to make a contribution.”
    The big man pulled a little leather bag from the inner pocket of his jacket and set it on the table. It jingled.
    “It’s really not much, though.”
    “Don’t be silly,” the director said, smiling warmly at the unkempt giant. “As embarrassing as it is to admit, our orphanage is always hard pressed for funds. We’ll be more than happy to accept it. May God bless you, sir.”
    Taking the bag in hand, she noticed Beatrice’s expression.
    “Is something the matter?”
    “No—I was just wondering if you could give me one of those coins back.”
    “Of course.”
    “You see, yesterday I did a little gambling and managed to clean myself out. It really is a sad tale to tell.”
    Though Mrs. Denon’s