I was almost out of the door when I turned, went upstairs, and got the .32 out of my dresser. I didn’t really think Danny Boy would set me up but I didn’t want to bet my life that he wouldn’t. Either way, you never knew who might be drinking in Poogan’s.

I’d received a warning last night and I’d spent the intervening hours disregarding it. And the clerk who gave me Danny Boy’s message had volunteered that I’d had a couple of other calls from people who’d declined to leave their names. They might have been friends of the chap in the lumber jacket, calling to offer a word to the wise.

I dropped the gun into a pocket, went out and hailed a cab.

* * *

Danny Boy insisted on buying the drinks, vodka for himself, ginger ale for me. He looked as natty as ever, and he’d been to the barber since I last saw him. His cap of tight white curls was closer to his scalp, and his manicured nails showed a coating of clear polish.

He said, “I’ve got two things for you. A message and an opinion.”

“Oh?”

“The message first. It’s a warning.”

“I thought it might be.”

“You should forget about the Dakkinen girl.”

“Or what?”

“Or what? Or else, I suppose. Or you get what she got, something like that. You want a specific warning so you can decide whether it’s worth it or not?”

“Who’s the warning come from, Danny?”

“I don’t know.”

“What spoke to you? A burning bush?”

He drank off some of his vodka. “Somebody talked to somebody who talked to somebody who talked to me.”

“That’s pretty roundabout.”

“Isn’t it? I could give you the person who talked to me, but I won’t, because I don’t do that. And even if I did it wouldn’t do you any good, because you probably couldn’t find him, and if you did he still wouldn’t talk to you, and meanwhile somebody’s probably going to whack you out. You want another ginger ale?”

“I’ve still got most of this one.”

“So you do. I don’t know who the warning’s from, Matt, but from the messenger they used I’d guess it’s some very heavy types. And what’s interesting is I get absolutely nowhere trying to find anybody who saw Dakkinen on the town with anybody but our friend Chance. Now if she’s going with somebody with all this firepower, you’d think he’d show her around, wouldn’t you? Why not?”

I nodded. For that matter, why would she need me to ease her out of Chance’s string?

“Anyway,” he was saying, “that’s the message. You want the opinion?”

“Sure.”