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

WILLIAM  SNOTMAN            ****
     
    X MAN, MODULAR       N/A                *
     
      MORKLE, DOUG       N/A                **
     
      MUELLER, HOWARD    TROLL              ***
     
    X O'REILLY, RADHA    ELEPHANT GIRL      *
     
    X RAY, WILLIAM       CARNIFEX           *
     
    X SCHAEFFER, ELMO    N/A                ***
     
      SEIVERS, ROBERT    BLUDGEON           ***
     
      NAME UNKNOWN       BLACK SHADOW       **
     
      NAMES UNKNOWN      THE ODDITY         **
     
    X NAME UNKNOWN       STARSHINE          *
     
      NAME UNKNOWN       OUASIMAN           ***
     
      NAME UNKNOWN       WYRM               ****
     
    Jay considered the names that remained. Ernie the Lizard DeMarco owned a Jokertown bar, but it was strictly a neighborhood place, no competition for the Palace. He crossed him out. Devil John Darlingfoot was hired muscle with a record as long as a joker's dork, but all his strength was in one deformed leg. Maybe he kicked in Chrysalis's face? Somehow it didn't feel right. Besides, Jay had the vague impression that Devil John drew the line at murder. He crossed out that name, too. Doughboy had tremendous strength and the mind of a child. He'd become somewhat of a cause when the cops arrested him for murder a few years back. But he hadn't done that one and Jay didn't think it was very likely that he'd done this one either. He went. Mordecai Jones lived in Harlem, half a city away from Jokertown. Except for that world tour last year, he didn't move in the same circles as Chrysalis. He went, too.
    He hesitated for a couple minutes over Howard Mueller, better known as Troll, the chief of security at Dr. Tachyon's Jokertown Clinic. Mueller was a Palace regular, and the nine-foot-tall joker was up there with Golden Boy and the Harlem Hammer in the strength department, but as far as Jay knew, Troll was one of the good guys. Maybe he wasn't as clean as he looked. Maybe Chrysalis had dug up some dirt on him, a secret out of his past, and tried to leverage him with it. It was possible, Jay supposed.
    Of course, it was also a complete supposition. You could make the same theory fit Ernie the Lizard, the Harlem Hammer, Starshine, hell, any of them. What a great theory, one size fits all. No, that road would take him back to three hundred nineteen names in no time at all. He put pencil to paper and resolutely scratched out Troll.
    That left seven little Indians. Seven real strong Indians: Wyrm, Quasiman, the Oddity, Black Shadow, Bludgeon, the Sleeper, and Doug Morkle, whoever the fuck he was.
    Wyrm was an ugly bit of business, a major player in the Shadow Fist Society. Jay had run into him once, had heard him threaten Chrysalis, in fact. That had been almost two years ago, but Wyrm looked like the kind of guy who held grudges. The only problem was the M.O. Strong as he was, Wyrm killed with his bite, pumping his victims full of venom. Jay didn't recall any bite marks on Chrysalis, but it was worth checking. The autopsy would certainly show the presence of poison in her system.
    Quasiman was a caretaker at Our Lady of Perpetual Misery. Much stronger than Wyrm, the hunchback was a teleport, too. He could have gotten in and out of the Palace without being seen. He was supposed to be on the side of the angels, but every so often part of his brain drifted off to another dimension or something, and then there was no telling what he might do. An unlikely suspect, but still...
    The Oddity was one Jay already had his suspicions about.
    Black Shadow was another lunatic vigilante. Hated crime and liked to kill criminals, or maybe just break all their arms and legs if he was in a good mood. Maybe Shad had learned that Chrysalis was involved in some kind of criminal activity. Maybe she'd learned his real identity and threatened to expose him.