“ ‘Fraid not,” I said. “It doesn’t work that way.” The awful thing was, it did work that way. I hadn’t had to field that particular joke since back in the World, when I’d had an arsenal of snappy comebacks to it. Just as well I couldn’t remember any; I was sure one or two of them had gotten me hit in the face.

“Jeez, I bet Rico’s even paying you. You do this for money, or dope, or what? I bet you’d find me a blonde for enough dope.”

I gave up. “I’m holding out for gold, spices, and slaves. Are there more at home like you, or did your parents replace the lead water pipes?”

He thought about taking offense; I watched him do it. In the end, he laughed. “You punks down south should be more careful. Some cops don’t have a sense of humor like I do.”

I wanted to tell him I was relieved about that, but Saquash intervened. Probably just as well for the sake of my appealing profile.

“Vic,” he said, “if you don’t haul ass, you’re gonna be late on the dock check. And I don’t want to hear about it from Apollonius.”

Vic scowled. “Pointy-eared tightwad. Wish he’d hire a security guard.”

“He did. Us. Be glad it’s not raining.”

“Jesus. Why don’t you go?”

“Because I’m catching tonight, and you’re on patrol. Next week you can sit here and listen to me whine about my job, okay?”

Vic blew through his lips like a horse and tramped back toward the door. He turned when he got there and waved to me. “ ‘Bye, Mutant Boy. Give my love to Sunny-honey.”

I thought of a good many observations I could make to Saquash, but once the door closed behind Vic, I found I was too tired to make them. I propped my forehead up in both hands.

“You okay?” Saquash asked.

“Tired. Guess I used up my second wind getting mad.”

“He might have been taking it out on you; he’s scared shitless of Sunny.”

I would have answered, but I was occupied with a huge yawn and a violent shiver.

Saquash leaned over the table to give me a close look. I didn’t feel like a postcard this time. “When did you last eat?”

I thought back. “Oh,” I said wisely.

“Sheesh.” He shook his head. “I’ll be right back.”

He swung through the door that I knew led back to that deer track of offices and the morgue. Now that I’d been reminded to add it up, I noticed that since Sunny Rico had walked into the Hard Luck, oh, maybe thirty-six hours ago, I’d had a total of seven hours’ sleep and one meal. Next time I saw her, I was going to ask if she was required to display a Surgeon General’s warning.