“If you’re unhappy with the arrangements, you can always remain on New Ecuador,” said the Angel.

“Not a chance,” she replied. “We’re partners now. I’m staying with you.”

“We are not partners,” he corrected her. “We are traveling companions, nothing more. And you’ll stay with me only so long as you prove useful.” He stood up. “Meet me at my ship at sunrise.”

“How will I know which one it is?” she asked as he began walking toward the doorway.

He stopped and turned to her.

“You’re an investigative reporter,” he said. “You’ll find it.”

Then he was gone, and Virtue MacKenzie found herself sitting alone in the almost deserted tavern. She remained motionless, lost in thought, for a number of minutes, trying to assimilate what she had seen and learned of the Angel. There was no longer any question in her mind that he would find Santiago, and very little that he would succeed in killing him. But for the first time since she had begun her search, she felt unsure of her course of action; the Angel frightened her as no other man she had ever met.

She reviewed her various options, which included finding and teaming up with Cain or the Swagman once more, proceeding on her own, or chucking the whole thing and living on the remainder of her unspent advance, compared them against remaining with the Angel, and finally concluded that while she hadn’t made the safest decision, she had made the right one.

She stood up, walked to the far side of the table where the Angel had placed her bottle, downed two large swallows, and headed back to her hotel, trying to come up with various facts about Cain and Santiago that would make her of continuing value to the Angel.

16.

Come to the lair of the cold Virgin Queen!

Come and see sights that have never been seen!

Money that’s piled as high as the sky,

And a bandit queen anything other than shy!

People used to ask Black Orpheus about that verse, since it seemed so different from his original stanza about Virtue MacKenzie. At first he was genuinely puzzled—after all, he hadn’t written it—but after a while he put two and two together, figured out who wrote it and why, and decided to let it stand, probably to further confuse the academics who had made careers out of continually misinterpreting him.

Once the Angel had let drop that he had a constant need for money, Virtue decided to convince him that she had access to it—so she jotted down the four lines, spread some untraceable cash around, and made sure that the verse continually came to his attention.