Wild Cards [07] Dead Man's Hand by George R.R. Martin

jokertown's own Harvey Kant, and his partner, Thomas Jan Maseryk.
    Brennan put his teacup down, oblivious to another hard stare from the waitress, and looked closely at the grainy newspaper photo of two men standing outside the Crystal Palace. Kant was the joker on the left. A tall, scaly reptiloid, he reminded Brennan of his old Shadow Fist foe, Wyrm. The other was Maseryk. Brennan nodded to himself. He slid out of the booth, went to the public phone booth in the back of the restaurant, and dialed the Jokertown precinct. It took a moment for the connection to go through, and then he heard a deep, gruff, tired voice on the other end. "Maseryk."
    It was definitely him. Brennan hadn't heard the voice in almost fifteen years, but he still recognized it. There was a shadow in it, a brooding, sepulchral tone that hinted at the blackness that had followed Maseryk everywhere when Brennan had known him in Nam.
    "Long time no see," Brennan said quietly.
    There was a short silence. Brennan could almost hear the gears whirring in Maseryk's head. "Who is this?"
    "Brennan. Daniel Brennan."
    "Brennan?"
    "It's me."
    "Christ. I guess it's been a long time. So is this a social call to renew old acquaintances?"
    "Of a type," Brennan said. "I'd like to talk to you."
    "About what, after all these years?"
    "About Chrysalis's murder."
    "What's your interest in that?"
    "Personal. She was a friend of mine."
    "Mmm. You always did take things personal. Okay. Where shall we have this chat?"
    Brennan thought it over. He wanted to pump Maseryk for information, but Maseryk was always a closemouthed sort. It wouldn't hurt to meet in a place that might smooth Maseryk's often-touchy feelings, a place Maseryk would also be disinclined to bust up if their talk went sour. "How about over lunch at Aces High?"
    "That's a little rich for a cop's pay."
    "My treat."
    "How can I resist?"

    1:00 P.M.
    "More coffee, Jay?" Flo asked him.
    "Please," Jay said, pushing the cup across the Formica counter. It was his fourth cup. Flo had removed the evidence of his patty melt and fries twenty minutes ago.
    "Working a puzzle?" the waitress asked as she refilled his cup. Some of the coffee slopped over into the saucer. "Something like that," Jay admitted. The list was spread out on the counter. He'd been going over it name by name while he ate. A translucent smudge on the paper marked the spot where a bit of onion had slid out of his patty melt. "Well, call me if you need any help," Flo said. "I work them TV Guide crosswords every week." She went off with her coffeepot to a booth in back, where a chicken hawk in a white linen suit was trying to recruit a blond boy fresh off the bus from St. Paul. The Java joint was on Forty-second Street between Times Square and the Port Authority Bus Terminal, sandwiched in between the Wet Pussycat Theater and an adult bookstore. The food wasn't quite up to Aces High, but Jay liked the prices. Besides, it was a half block from his office.
    He chewed on the pencil he'd bummed from Flo and looked at the list again. The original nineteen finalists were down to eleven. Snotman was in jail at the moment; he'd gone first. Most of the one-star candidates had followed in short order. Chrysalis's office wasn't big enough to hold an elephant, which eliminated Radha O'Reilly. Modular Man and Starshine had both made the list strictly on the basis of geography; neither had any particular reason to want Chrysalis dead. Carnifex had been in Atlanta, as had Jack Braun. Jay knew Elmo hadn't done it, no matter how many stars the computer had assigned him. That left the list looking like this:
     
    X BRAUN, JACK&       GOLDEN BOY         *
     
      CRENSON, CROYD     THE SLEEPER        ****
     
      DARLINGFOOT, JOHN  DEVIL JOHN         ***
     
      DEMARCO, ERNEST    ERNIE THE LIZARD   **
     
      DOE,JOHN           DOUGHBOY           ***
     
      JONES, MORDECAI    THE HARLEM HAMMER  **
     
      LOCKWOOD,