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the paper in my face. "Even if I ain't done nothin' else, I
done that."
    The door opened. Jed came in.
    "You're sprung," he announced as the uniform uncuffed us both.
    "Me too?" Selena asked.
    "For you, I'm pushing for a city whistle-blower commendation."
    "Goddamn right," she said.
    "What about Ralph?" I asked.
    "He's up at Providence. They took him to Harborview, but I had him sent up to Providence on my employee account."
    "Thanks," I said.
    "No word on his condition except that he had
regained consciousness about twenty minutes ago. I've got Harriet in
the office early, keeping track of his condition. If anything changes,
she'll page me."
    "And the hotel?" I inquired.
    "They've got three full squads down there. I guess
it's a hell of a mess. A whole collection of ambulatory stoners. Some
handicapped kid threw himself out a window. It's a tragedy. Every
camera and every elected official in town are down there."
    Before I could speak, he went on. "That's how come
you two are walking. I agreed that your names weren't going to come up
as part of this ongoing investigation."
    "What ongoing investigation is that?" I asked.
    "The one where SPD, through diligent, dedicated,
dogged police work, has sniffed out and subsequently smashed a virtual
den of drugs and degradation down in Chinatown, thus preventing further
tragedies like the one we face this evening and ensuring the continued
dominance of the ruling class. To Protect and Serve, you know."
    ' 'Oh, that investigation."
    "That's the one."
    "What next?"
    "As your attorney, I advise you to buy this woman
breakfast. As you and I know only too well, my friend"-- he patted my
shoulder--"women of this mettle are few and far between. I recommend
the standard introductory patter, followed by a whirlwind courtship."
    I turned to Selena. "You heard him," I said. "Only a fool disregards the advice of his attorney."
    Selena Dunlap did not require further prompting. Jed and I followed her vapor trail to the street.
5
    She ate like my ex-wife used to pack a suitcase.
Methodically, almost ceremoniously, stuffing every obscure compartment
with its ordained freight. Over the past forty-five minutes she'd gone
through two eggs up, two eggs scrambled, a short stack, an order of
bacon, four link sausages, and now two orders of toast. She'd washed it
all down with five Rainier Lites. Watching her weight, I supposed. Her
recent call for hash browns and another beer suggested that she had a
few compartments to fill.
    "Ya know," she said between bites, "we busted a
couple of guys, saved another guy's ass, got thrown in the can
together, and I don't even know your damn name."
    "Leo."
    "How come you know those guys?" she asked while she chewed.
    "What guys?"
    "George and Normal and such."
    "George and Harold were friends of my old man."
    "Your father?"
    "Yeah. He was kind of like a local celebrity."
    "That's what the dyke meant when she said you had connections?"
    "Probably."
    "What was his name?"
    "Bill Waterman. Folks called him Wild Bill."
    "The politics guy?"
    "That's the one," I confirmed.
    She chewed this news along with her toast.
    My father had turned an early career as a labor
organizer into eleven terms on the Seattle City Council. He'd run for
mayor four times, each time suffering a narrow defeat. While it was
great fun to have Wild Bill Waterman sitting on the council, making
ridiculous proposals, campaigning in costume from the back of a beer
wagon, the good people of Seattle had instinctively known that Wild
Bill Waterman was by no means the kind of guy to be left running the
store. As more than one of his opponents had suggested, Wild Bill's
sense of humor was simply too far advanced for any office with wide
discretionary powers. This was, after all, the guy who had on numerous
occasions suggested that budgetary problems could be surmounted by
simply giving the city back to the several bands of Indians from whom
it had been stolen.
    "The one who used to lead that goat around on a