"Dear God," Murphy said. Can I summarize or what? "They can infect the city with this curse thing?"

"Looks like," I said.

"How can I help?"

"We've got to keep them from getting it into the air. They won't be on public transportation. Find out if any chartered planes are taking off between seven and eight-thirty. Helicopters too."

"Hang on," Murphy said. I heard computer keys clicking, Murphy saying something to someone, a police radio. A moment later she said, voice tense, "There's trouble."

"Yeah?"

"There are a pair of detectives heading out to arrest you. Looks like Homicide wants you for questioning. There's no warrant listed."

"Crap." I took a deep breath. "Rudolph?"

"Brownnosing rat," Murphy muttered. "Harry, they're almost to your place. You've only got a few minutes."

"Can you decoy them? Get some manpower to the airport?"

"I don't know," Murphy said. "I'm supposed to be a mile from this case. And it isn't as though I can announce that terrorists are about to use a biological weapon on the city."

"Use Rudolph," I said. "Tell him off the record that I said the Shroud is leaving town on a chartered flight from the airport. Let him take the heat for it if they don't find anything."

Murphy let out a harsh little laugh. "There are times when you can be a clever man, Harry. It takes me by surprise."

"Why, thank you."

"What else can I do?"

I told her.

"You're kidding."

"No. We may need the manpower, and SI is out of this one."

"Just when I had hope for your intelligence, too."

"You'll do it?"

"Yeah. Can't promise anything, but I'll do it. Get moving. They're less than five minutes away."

"Gone. Thank you, Murph."

I hung up the phone, opened my closet, and dug into a couple of old cardboard boxes I kept at the back until I found my old canvas duster. It was battered and torn in a couple of places, but it was clean. It didn't have the same reassuring weight as the leather duster, but it did more to hide my gun than my jacket. And it made me look cool. Well, maybe cooler, anyway.

I grabbed my things, locked up my place behind me, and got into Martin's rental car. Martin wasn't in it. Susan sat behind the wheel. "Hurry," I said. She nodded and pulled out.

A few minutes later, no one had pulled us over. "I take it Martin isn't helping."

Susan shook her head. "No. He said he had other duties that took precedence. He said that I did, too."

"What did you say?"

"That he was a narrow-minded, hidebound, anachronistic, egotistical bastard."

"No wonder he likes you."

Susan smiled a little and said, "The Fellowship is his life. He serves a cause."

"What is it to you?" I asked.

Susan remained silent for a long time as we drove across town. "How did it go?"