Read Suicide Kings for Free Online Page B

were there. Ostensibly on Committee business.”
    Lohengrin yawned again. “Frau Baden is correct that the situation is complicated. We must be careful with the Nshombos.” Wally slumped in his chair. “But,” Lohengrin continued, solemnly putting a hand on Wally’s shoulder, “your cause is just. I promise to do what I can to help your missing friend.”
    “Well, gosh. That’s swell, Lohengrin.” Wally practically leaped out of his chair, grinning. The Committee would help him go find Lucien! “I can’t wait.”
    “Yes. I believe that if I ask him, Jayewardene will make careful inquiries through diplomatic channels.”
    Inquiries? Oh.
Wally tried to hide his disappointment. “Right. That’ll be a big help, no doubt. I sure do appreciate it.”
    He returned to his table, just long enough to say good night to Ana; the Llama had already left. Wally didn’t much feel like hopping in a taxi when he got down to the street, so he started walking in the general direction of Jokertown.
    A thin dusting of snow covered the sidewalks. It fell in large flakes that drifted slowly to the ground like cotton. The clouds overhead and the snow underfoot reflected the soft glow of the city in all its colors, making everything look like a Christmas tree decoration.
    Back home, Wally and his brother Pete used to make snow forts during Christmas vacation. He remembered countless snowball fights on winter mornings, too, waiting for the school bus. Lucien had loved hearing about stuff like that; to him, snow was the white stuff on distant mountains. Wally had secretly hoped he’d get to take him to the mountains someday, so he could see the snow firsthand.
    But Lohengrin and Babel had been pretty clear. If he wanted to go to Africa, he’d have to go privately.
    The Winslow Household
Boston, Massachusetts
    They finished off the evening playing bridge and eating another round of pie before retiring to Niobe’s old bedroom. Niobe found this embarrassing and Noel found it charming. He investigated her bookcase filled with a collection of late Victorian and early twentieth-century children’s books—
The Bird’s Christmas Carol
,
The Secret Garden
,
The Little Princess
,
Little Lord Fauntleroy
. He rooted through the closet and discovered a stuffed animal collection (now consigned to the top shelf), and picked out a few choice specimens to take home to New York.
For our baby
, he thought, but neither of them gave voice to that. This was the fourth try, and they were both too superstitious to invoke the child out loud lest it lead to another miscarriage.
    Noel read aloud from
Fauntleroy
until Niobe’s eyelids dropped and her breathing slowed. “He had a cruel tongue and a bitter nature, and he took pleasure in sneering at people and making them feel uncomfortable. . . .” Noel’s voice died away. He slowly slipped his arm from beneath her, snapped off the light, and settled down to sleep.
    It took a long time because he kept replaying the conversation with Siraj, and wondering what it all meant.
    Rusty’s Hotel Room
Jokertown
Manhattan, New York
    “Um, hi? DB?”
    The phone receiver compressed the noise of a raucous party into a dull roar. “What? Who is this?”
    “It’s me, Wally.”
    A long pause. “Ollie?” DB sounded distracted. Then, more muffled, he shouted, “Hey! Leave that fucker for me!” This was followed by peals ofhigh-pitched laughter. Wally had looked online; it was a little after eleven in Mumbai.
    “No,
Wally
. You know, Rustbelt?”
    Another pause. Then: “Rusty! How the hell are ya? Great to hear ya. Hey, guys, it’s Rusty!”
    This provoked a chorus of greetings from the other members of Joker Plague.
    “Same to you, fella. Look, I was wondering—”
    “You need tickets to the show? No problem! You’ve got a permanent backstage pass, you know that.” Something shattered, followed by more groupie laughter. Bottom shouted something that Rusty couldn’t quite make out. “Wait. You’re in