“Because Dimitri Sokol’s put a price of one hundred thousand credits on your pretty little head.”

“The Angel had him take the hit off,” she said.

He shook his head. “The Angel had him stop advertising it. There’s a difference.”

“Then why hasn’t he killed me already?” she demanded.

“Because he needed you to get Santiago to come here. Once he kills Santiago, he doesn’t need you for anything—unless you can convince him that he can make a healthy profit by letting you and me dispose of the artwork.”

“You and me?” she repeated skeptically. “Why are you suddenly being so generous?”

“Because he knows you, whereas my reputation has been besmirched by numerous small-minded parties who are jealous of my success.” He leaned forward. “I’ll cut you in for ten percent.”

“Ten percent?” she said with a harsh laugh. “Your generosity knows no bounds.”

He shrugged. “All right—fifteen. And you’ll still have your story.”

“Not a chance.”

“You’re making a big mistake,” said the Swagman.

“Somehow, as frightening as the Angel is, I find him more trustworthy than you.”

“It’s your funeral,” he replied. “Just think about what I said.” He signaled to Moonripple, who emerged from the kitchen carrying Father William’s breakfast on a huge tray. “A cup of coffee when you get the chance, my dear.”

“Right away, sir,” she answered.

“Coffee?” asked Virtue, grinning.

“They tell me it contracts the pupils,” said the Swagman. “I’m certainly willing to give it a chance.”

“It steadies the nerves.”

“Whatever,” he shrugged. Suddenly he noticed that Father William had clasped his hands before him and lowered his head. “I’ve never seen you do that before,” he said.

“I pray all the time,” replied Father William.

“Not before a meal, you don’t,” said the Swagman. “Usually you just dig in like you’re trying to break a speed record.”

“Maybe he’s nervous,” suggested Virtue.

Father William stared sternly at her. “I was praying for the Angel’s soul. I plan to remand it to Satan’s custody this morning.”

“Maybe you’d better put in a good word for yourself, if you plan to go up against him,” said Virtue.

“I don’t ask the Lord for personal favors,” said Father William. He continued staring at her. “I think I’d better pray for you next. You’ve done a wicked thing, Virtue MacKenzie.”

“Don’t you go blaming me for this,” she said defensively. “I never even heard of Safe Harbor until yesterday. The Angel found this place without any help from me.”

“But you convinced Santiago to meet him.”

“All I did was deliver a message,” she replied. “Hell, I told him he was crazy to come.”

“I’ll pray for you anyway.”

“While you’re at it,” said the Swagman, “you might say one for me, just to be on the safe side.”

“It wouldn’t do any good,” answered Father William.