John Miller - Death Draws Five

He sighed to himself, realizing that it was his destination, too.

New York: Jokertown Clinic

“The Aces! hot line had thirty-seven calls concerning you last night,” Digger Downs told Fortunato excitedly. “Most reported that you’d come back from the dead, rising out of a manhole in front of the Jokertown Clinic to defend it against a crazed ace who was attacking it for unknown reasons. Most said that you were dressed in a white robe, had a glowing halo, and ascended back into Heaven after crushing this unknown ace with a single blow.”

“Did you bring the clothes?” Fortunato asked. His monk robes had long since gone into the hospital’s incinerator.

“Sure.” Digger paused and handed him a couple of shopping bags. “There were a hundred and seventeen calls this morning,” he went on. “You’ve been spotted all over the city, as far east as Massapequa on Long Island, north to the Catskills, and west to Binghamton.”

Fortunato stripped off his hospital robe unselfconsciously and dressed in the underwear, jeans, socks, and pullover short-sleeved shirt that Digger had bought him. “What have I been doing in all those places?” he asked the reporter.

Digger flopped on Fortunato’s unmade hospital bed and gusted a deep sigh, shaking his head. “You think of it, you did it. You stopped a mugging in Brooklyn. You made a car swerve in Monticello and miss a kitten that had wandered into the road. Your face was seen etched in the dirt of an elementary school window in the Bronx.”

Fortunato glanced at him. “What?”

Digger shrugged. “Like I said, you’ve been a busy guy.”

Fortunato sat down and put on the running shoes Digger had bought. It was the first time in ages he hadn’t worn simple woven-straw sandals. He stood and walked about in a small circle, testing them. They looked garish and bulky, but felt good on his feet.

“I did none of these things,” he said. “Well—I did kill that ace, but I didn’t mean to. Not really.” His eyes narrowed and he spoke half to himself. “There were a couple of questions I’d wanted to ask him.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Digger said. “Mean to, I mean. What we have here is a genuine phenomenon. People want to believe in something, and it looks like you may be it. You’re big news, Fortunato, and you’re only going to get bigger. Maybe the next big thing. Listen, let me interview you on Aces! Corner on Entertainment Tonight. That’ll only be the first step. Within the week, you’ll be on Larry King Live. I guarantee it.”

Fortunato shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t have time for this now. Maybe later, when things have settled down.”

Digger looked disappointed, but after a moment of reflection, nodded. “You’re right. We should let the mystery deepen. The tension build. Let the rumors swirl for awhile. Maybe a few hints in the written media, then, wham! I see a special, maybe on the E! Network.”

“Will that pay for the damage done to the Clinic?” Finn asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway of Fortunato’s room.

Fortunato turned to him. “I’m sorry about that, doctor. I really am. Perhaps I can make it up to you some day, but right now I’m checking out. I have to get going.”

Finn grabbed his arm as he went by. “I should examine you first.”

Fortunato stopped. There was a time when he would have pulled away angrily if someone laid their hands on him like that. But that time had passed. “I’m fine, doctor. You know I am.”

“Well, maybe,” Finn said. “But the police have been asking about you. I’ve been telling them that you’re hurt, under sedation—”

“All the more reason I have to go, before I get tied up in red tape.” He put his own hand on the doctor’s arm, but his touch was friendly. “I know you’ve done a lot for me, Finn. I appreciate that. I’ll do what I can to make it up to you. But right now I have to go after my son. He’s not out of danger yet.”

“Well...” Finn let his hand fall away from Fortunato’s arm. “All right. Where are you headed?”

“Branson, Missouri,” Fortunato said with a look of contemplation. He turned to Digger Downs. “Coming?” he asked.

Digger jumped up from the bed. “Sure. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Good, Fortunato thought. Because I still don’t have any money. He realized that before long he’d have to figure out a way to make some if he was going to remain in the world. He couldn’t depend on the good will of Aces! forever.

Digger joined him at the doorway and preceded Fortunato into the hallway. Fortunato paused for a moment and turned back to Finn.

“How’s Peregrine doing?” he asked.

Finn shrugged. “About as well as can be expected. Maybe even a little better. But she’s still got a long convalescence ahead of her.”

“There is something you can do for me.”

“Say goodbye for you?” Finn asked.

“How’d you know?” Fortunato said after the silence had stretched uncomfortably between them.

Finn shrugged again. “I read Tachyon’s dossier on you, remember?”

Fortunato nodded. “Yeah. I guess that the space wimp did have my number.”

He turned and left the hospital room. Finn watched him go in silence.

Branson, Missouri

Sascha Starfin was waiting for them near the baggage carousel. Jerry saw him immediately once he and Ray and Mushroom Daddy had fought their way past the crowds of women wearing MAGOG buttons.

“Sascha!”

The ace turned his head towards them as Jerry shouted and waved. Sascha’s height was accentuated by his thinness and his long neck. His hair, receding at the temples, was stylishly gelled so that a roguish curl fell over his broad forehead. His teeth were white and straight, his mouth expressive. It was his most expressive feature. He had no eyes, only an unbroken expanse of skin across the sockets that should have housed them.

“Jerry, glad you made it.” He turned to Ray. “Mr. Ray. Good to see you, as well.” His eyeless face turned unerringly to Mushroom Daddy.

“Wow,” Daddy said. “Spooky, man. How’d you know I was here?”

Sascha flashed another smile. “I’m telepathic, for one thing. For another, I can smell you. I didn’t know there was a cannabis-scented variety of Old Spice.”

Ray broke in before Mushroom Daddy could reply. “Did you book rooms in the hotel I mentioned?”

Sascha nodded, though he looked dubious. “Yes. The Manger, at the Peaceable Kingdom. Isn’t that a little way out of town?”

Ray shook his head. “We’re not here to see Boxcar Willie. Believe me, we’ll be close to the action.”

“The Manger?” Jerry said doubtfully. “What kind of hotel is that?”

Ray smiled. “It’s the kind where ‘There’s Always A Room For You, Even If You’re Not The Savior.’”

“Wait a minute,” Jerry said. “The Peaceable Kingdom. Isn’t that Barnett’s religious theme park?”

“Yep,” Ray said, “we’ll discuss it later. I’ve got to check some things out.”

He hustled away through the automatic doors and into afternoon beyond, where he jumped into the first taxi in line. Sascha puckered his lips in a thoughtful moue. “Ray left precipitously, didn’t he?” the eyeless ace said. “That man has secrets.”

They followed Ray outside into the warm summer afternoon on the fringe of the Ozark Mountains. Jerry shrugged as they went up to the cab currently at the head of the line.

“He’s a spook. He probably has more secrets than a madame in a high-class cathouse. But, you’re right. He’s been helpful so far, but really, how far can you trust these government types? Keep an eye on him.”