The Fool's Run

inside.
    During the ride to Anshiser’s she was friendlier than she had been in the past. LuEllen fascinated her, and she asked a dozen questions about the burglaries as we loafed along. When I mentioned that LuEllen and Dace were sleeping together, she half turned toward me in the dark.
    “Isn’t that a major change?”
    “Um.”
    “You’re not distraught?”
    “LuEllen and I like to roll around together. Our relationship is important, but not serious. If you know what I mean.”
    “This Dace. From what you’ve told me, he seems very . . . likeable.”
    “LuEllen says he’s a nice guy. She says I’m not. She wants to try nice for a while.”
    She thought about that, and it occurred to me that I was feeling some electricity. I wrote it off as fantasy, a product of unrequited hormones. In any case, she stopped talking about LuEllen, and I brought her up-to-date on the Whitemark project.
    “So you’re ready,” she said when I finished.
    “Yeah. If Anshiser says go.”
    “He will,” she said. She glanced at me. “Dillon was doing more research, you know, just because he’s Dillon. Anyway, he found a reference to a paper you wrote about the tarot. He went out and bought a deck.”
    I grinned in the dark. “Where did he find it? The paper?”
    “That was the strange thing. It was at the War College.”
    “Yeah. I knew they were using it.”
    She wanted more, but we were in the twisting streets, and a moment later she turned in at Anshiser’s wrought-iron gate. It rolled smoothly out of the way and she gunned the car up to the house.
    Anshiser was a shock. He’d been thin when I last saw him, and he’d lost another ten pounds. The lines in his face had deepened and his short hair seemed to stand on end. His nose appeared redder and larger.
    “Mr. Kidd,” he said hoarsely, as Maggie ushered me into the office. Dillon was nowhere to be seen. “I understand we’re ready to go.”
    I gave him the report I’d given Maggie on the way in. He was pleased. When I told him what we planned to do with the child pornographers, he said, “Goddamned right,” and laughed. “That ought to open up some sinuses over there.” He whacked the top of his desk with sudden energy.
    “You don’t look so good,” I said. “Maggie said you’re having migraines.”
    “Something like it. Not quite, but close,” he said somberly. “To tell you the truth, I think I’m dying.”
    “My God, Rudy,” Maggie protested. “The doctors say it’s tension. It could be Kidd’s project doing this. Who knows? You’re not dying.”
    Anshiser laughed again, the laugh trailing off to a cough. “The doctors are full of horseshit,” he said. “I know what I feel like.” He looked at me and held his hand to his head. “I can’t explain it, but when I have one of these headaches, my whole body feels empty. I don’t know what it is; I’ve never had it before. And it’s bad.”
    “Look,” I said, “you’re making me nervous. If you’re about to lose it, either mentally or physically, we could have serious problems. You’re our backup, if anything goes wrong.”
    He hacked again, covering his mouth with his fist, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’ll last,” he said. “I’m too damn mean to die before that’s done.” He reached under his desk and produced a nylon handbag and pushed it toward me.
    “Half of the remaining money,” he said. “A half million dollars. I’m extremely pleased with your progress.”
    I looked at the bag for a minute and then back up at Anshiser.
    “The real thing starts the day after tomorrow,” I said. “Maggie and I will get out of here tomorrow, we’ll show her where we’re at, and then we do it. I need you to say right now to go ahead.”
    “Do it. I wish you luck, I do,” Anshiser said. He pushed himself slowly out of the chair, and I picked up the bag and leaned forward to shake his hand.
    “You take good care of Maggie,” he said. “She’s the daughter I should have had. Or the wife.” He grinned, and for another instant, the vitality was back.
    Maggie led the way to the door, and just outside, put a hand on my arm. “I wasn’t expecting this,” I said, holding up the money bag.
    “That’s Rudy’s way of telling you he’s happy,” she said. “Do you have reservations in town?”
    “No. I thought it would be better to show up somewhere and pay in cash. I sure as hell have enough of it.”
    “Why don’t you stay at my place? I have an extra room, and