“Half,” said the Swagman with a confident grin.

“Half of what?”

“Half of the artwork. You keep all the reward and we split the artwork fifty-fifty.”

“Stop playing with that damned beetle and go away,” said Cain.

“Do you realize what I’m offering you?” asked the Swagman, putting the cube back in his pocket.

Cain nodded. “Do you realize that I’m rejecting your offer?”

“You’re crazy!” snapped the Swagman. “Even after I take the pieces I want, the rest of it is worth millions on the black market!”

“Maybe I’m just not an art collector.”

“You’ve made a very foolish career decision, Sebastian.”

“Is that a threat?” asked Cain.

The Swagman shook his head. “Just a prediction.”

“All right. You’ve made your offer, I’ve turned it down. Now what?”

“Now we wait.”

“For what?”

“For you to change your mind.”

“I’m not going to,” said Cain.

“Then we wait for the Angel to kill Santiago.”

“He won’t deal with you, either.”

“Probably not,” agreed the Swagman. “But he also won’t know where the artwork is, and I’ve got as good a chance of finding it as he does.”

“Then why make an offer to me at all?” asked Cain, puzzled.

“Because you’re a reasonable man, and we’ve already got a partnership agreement, whether you choose to acknowledge that fact or not. The Angel might take a different view of my confiscating the artwork.”

“Then let me set your mind to rest,” said Cain seriously. “If you try to take anything that belongs to Santiago, whether he’s alive or dead, I’ll kill you myself.”

The Swagman stared at him. “He has made an impression on you, hasn’t he?” he said, amused.

“You heard what I said.”

The Swagman sighed. “Then I guess I’ll just have to check into the boarding house where Father William is staying and await developments.”

“Like a scavenger waiting around a kill.” commented Cain distastefully.

“An apt comparison,” agreed the Swagman with no show of anger. “You’d be surprised how few scavengers die hungry when they follow the right predators.”

Cain turned to Father William, who had finished his fowl and was just in the process of polishing off the various side dishes with great enthusiasm.

“We’re through talking, if you’d like to join us now,” he said in his normal voice.

“Or you could continue to pretend you weren’t listening,” said the Swagman.

Father William looked across the room and smiled.

“I was eating. God was listening.” The preacher spent another moment sopping up the last of the cream sauce with a piece of a biscuit, then walked over to join them. “Did you conclude your business?”

“We agreed to disagree,” said the Swagman.

“Are you planning to leave today, or are you going to blacken your immortal soul still further?” asked Father William.