A shiny red-gold apple sailed into Daniel’s beaten-up palm. He passed it to me, then took a moment to gaze around, taking the room’s measure, just as Dark Boy had done. “Nice find, Jules.”

“Not mine. Hers.”

Daniel offered a thumbs-up.

“Accident,” I mumbled, through a crisp, sweet chaw of apple, like nothing I’d tasted in ever so long.

“A lucky one. And just when I needed a new hole to hide in.” He did a slow collapse onto the couch beside me. He smelled of smoke and sweat and, yes, gunpowder. “Ouh, that’s better.”

I swallowed, savoring the juice. “Where can they still grow apples like this?”

“Way north in Canada.”

“You get these at the Souk?”

“I get them.”

Which meant, don’t ask. One more unanswered question.

Dark Boy flicked him a grin. “Den rat was sure you were a goner, Dan.”

“O ye of little faith!” Daniel poked me, looking smug.

I eased away slightly. “All that hardware, what else could I think?”

“Yeah!” He bent to look past me. “You see ’em, Jules? Way more flash than last time.”

“I caught that. Someone’s put in for a major upgrade. Any idea who?”

“Not yet.”

I was feeling sidelined. “What happened after we left?”

“I ducked out pretty quick. Too much lead in the air. You and Jules were the perfect distraction.”

“You must’ve moved pretty fast.”

“He does,” Dark Boy sniggered. “When he puts his mind to it.”

“But did they torch the tent?”

Daniel nodded wearily.

“What, everything?” If he was too done in to be outraged, I was ready to do it for him.

Daniel spread his hands in a way that was becoming familiar: his gesture of worldly acceptance. “New beginnings. On to the next phase of my career. Safety in mobility. Plus it saves me a trip to the dump.”

“The what?”

“Dump. Great word. Onomatopoetic. There actually is one now, beneath one of the bridges over the 81st Street transverse. Officially designated by the Merchants’ Association. Can you believe it? Even with the artifacts of daily life gone rare and precious, we still have stuff to throw away. You sharing any of that cheese, Jules?”

A hunk of cheese came flying, then a chunk of bread. Daniel tore both in half and handed me one of each.

Food was fine, but information was higher on my list, and not about dumps. I tried to keep it casual. “Still a miracle you aren’t dead.”

“Nah, they weren’t trying to kill me. Twist my arm more.” He bit into his cheese. “Dead men don’t pay.”

“I felt those bullets whizzing past . . .”

“All for Jules. Everyone wants him for target practice. It’s the look.”

“It’s my criminal skill and daring!”

“With me, it’s money they’re after.”

“The family silver . . .” Dark Boy waved an airy hand.

“Gone with the wind . . .”

“Our inheritance squandered . . .”