being sought for murder."
"What do you propose?"
"That we leave quietly, normally. That we pay your bill and move out, with all your things." He thought a moment. "Hunter has arranged other quarters for you. You'll be staying with friends, something of the sort. We'll have to clean up the mess as best we can."
"And what of the corpses?" Andre said.
Bennett bent down and picked up Silvera's laser. "It is both a weapon and a surgeon's tool," he said,
"although I dread the use to which we must put it now." He pulled one of the clothing chests into the center of the room. "Use the sheets to line this chest," he said. "And we'll sprinkle lots of perfume on . . .
the contents. It should help to hide the smell. I hope. Perhaps it would be best if you left the room. The sight will not be pleasant."
"You'll need help to pack the pieces," Andre said.
"Will you be able to stand it?"
"I've seen blood before," she said. "I will try not to think whose body we're dismembering. If it must be done, then let's set to it. The sooner we quit this place, the better."
"I was right," said Bennett. "You
are
an extraordinary woman."
Finn and Lucas moved to one side to let the porters carrying the heavy chests pass. Lucas wrinkled his nose as one chest went by. It reeked of perfume and the smell was powerful enough to make his head swim.
"God, what a stink!" he said.
"It covers up the body odor," Finn said, chuckling. "And there's one lady that must smell like something died inside her."
"Christ, Finn, that smell was bad enough."
"Shhh, I think here comes the perfumed doll herself," said Finn.
They moved to the left side of the stairs, allowing the old man and the young woman to pass by on their right. His clothes were shabby compared to her ornate and obviously very expensive dress.
"There goes one father whose little girl will send him to the poorhouse," Finn said, turning to Lucas.
Lucas was standing on the stairs, looking after the old man and the young woman.
Finn chuckled. "Yes, she's very pretty, but can you stand her fragrance?"
"That's not it," said Lucas, thoughtfully. "That woman. ... I've seen her somewhere, I'm certain of it."
"Probably reminds you of some old flame," said Finn.
"No, I've seen that face before," said Lucas. "But I just can't...." He shook his head.
"Are you sure?" said Finn.
"I'm almost positive. But it just won't click. There's something. ..." He frowned.
"Must be a coincidence," said Finn. "Hell, who do we know in 17th-century Paris?"
"Not in 17th-century Paris," Lucas said, "but somewhere else. I just don't remember where."
"You're not kidding, are you?"
"I'm telling you, Finn,
I know that face!"
"That's good enough for me. Come on, we'll follow them and find out where they go. But just to play it safe, let's keep our distance. Worse comes to worst, we'll just waste an afternoon."
"What if worse doesn't come to worst?" said Lucas.
"You're asking me? You're the one who can't remember faces."
"I never forget a face. That's why this one bothers me. It hasn't been a long time, either." They watched the chests being loaded into a carriage, the old man and the young woman getting in. "Horses,"
Lucas said.
"What?"
"Horses. That face belongs with horses."
"Well, that should narrow it down," said Finn. "We haven't ridden horses in more than ninety percent of our missions."
"Something doesn't fit," said Lucas. "It's the right face, but somehow, it's all wrong."
"Well, I'm glad you cleared that up," said Finn. "Shall we see which way your right-wrong face is heading? I'd hate for this to keep you up all night."
"I have a feeling that it will. I'm not sure what memories go with her face, but I am sure that none of them is good."
Chapter 6
"Vacated their rooms, you say?" said Adrian Taylor. "And no sign of Silvera?"
Jimmy Darcy stood uneasily before the terrorist leader. Only a short while ago, Adrian Taylor had been a small, whipcord thin young man with violently blue eyes, a sharp, slightly
"What do you propose?"
"That we leave quietly, normally. That we pay your bill and move out, with all your things." He thought a moment. "Hunter has arranged other quarters for you. You'll be staying with friends, something of the sort. We'll have to clean up the mess as best we can."
"And what of the corpses?" Andre said.
Bennett bent down and picked up Silvera's laser. "It is both a weapon and a surgeon's tool," he said,
"although I dread the use to which we must put it now." He pulled one of the clothing chests into the center of the room. "Use the sheets to line this chest," he said. "And we'll sprinkle lots of perfume on . . .
the contents. It should help to hide the smell. I hope. Perhaps it would be best if you left the room. The sight will not be pleasant."
"You'll need help to pack the pieces," Andre said.
"Will you be able to stand it?"
"I've seen blood before," she said. "I will try not to think whose body we're dismembering. If it must be done, then let's set to it. The sooner we quit this place, the better."
"I was right," said Bennett. "You
are
an extraordinary woman."
Finn and Lucas moved to one side to let the porters carrying the heavy chests pass. Lucas wrinkled his nose as one chest went by. It reeked of perfume and the smell was powerful enough to make his head swim.
"God, what a stink!" he said.
"It covers up the body odor," Finn said, chuckling. "And there's one lady that must smell like something died inside her."
"Christ, Finn, that smell was bad enough."
"Shhh, I think here comes the perfumed doll herself," said Finn.
They moved to the left side of the stairs, allowing the old man and the young woman to pass by on their right. His clothes were shabby compared to her ornate and obviously very expensive dress.
"There goes one father whose little girl will send him to the poorhouse," Finn said, turning to Lucas.
Lucas was standing on the stairs, looking after the old man and the young woman.
Finn chuckled. "Yes, she's very pretty, but can you stand her fragrance?"
"That's not it," said Lucas, thoughtfully. "That woman. ... I've seen her somewhere, I'm certain of it."
"Probably reminds you of some old flame," said Finn.
"No, I've seen that face before," said Lucas. "But I just can't...." He shook his head.
"Are you sure?" said Finn.
"I'm almost positive. But it just won't click. There's something. ..." He frowned.
"Must be a coincidence," said Finn. "Hell, who do we know in 17th-century Paris?"
"Not in 17th-century Paris," Lucas said, "but somewhere else. I just don't remember where."
"You're not kidding, are you?"
"I'm telling you, Finn,
I know that face!"
"That's good enough for me. Come on, we'll follow them and find out where they go. But just to play it safe, let's keep our distance. Worse comes to worst, we'll just waste an afternoon."
"What if worse doesn't come to worst?" said Lucas.
"You're asking me? You're the one who can't remember faces."
"I never forget a face. That's why this one bothers me. It hasn't been a long time, either." They watched the chests being loaded into a carriage, the old man and the young woman getting in. "Horses,"
Lucas said.
"What?"
"Horses. That face belongs with horses."
"Well, that should narrow it down," said Finn. "We haven't ridden horses in more than ninety percent of our missions."
"Something doesn't fit," said Lucas. "It's the right face, but somehow, it's all wrong."
"Well, I'm glad you cleared that up," said Finn. "Shall we see which way your right-wrong face is heading? I'd hate for this to keep you up all night."
"I have a feeling that it will. I'm not sure what memories go with her face, but I am sure that none of them is good."
Chapter 6
"Vacated their rooms, you say?" said Adrian Taylor. "And no sign of Silvera?"
Jimmy Darcy stood uneasily before the terrorist leader. Only a short while ago, Adrian Taylor had been a small, whipcord thin young man with violently blue eyes, a sharp, slightly
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