"Not a bad idea, actually. Asa isn't much, but I need men. I have a hold on him. And him being gone would help cover my backtrail."

"Take him with my blessing."

Raven started upstairs. Shed said, "Wait." He didn't know how to approach this, because he didn't know if it was important. But he'd better tell Raven. "Bullock's been hanging around the Buskin a lot lately. Him and a sidekick."

"So?"

"So maybe he's closer than we think. For one thing, he was in here looking for Asa. For another, he's been asking about you."

Raven's face went empty. "About me? How so?"

"On the quiet. My cousin Wally's wife Sal? Her brother is married to one of Bullock's cousins. Anyway, Bullock still knows people down here, from when before he got on the Custodians. He helps them out sometimes, so some of them tell him things he wants to know. ..."

"I get the picture. Get to the point."

"Bullock was asking about you. Who you are, where you come from, who your friends are-things like that."

"Why?"

Shed could only shrug.

"All right. Thanks. I'll check it out."

Chapter Eighteen:
JUNIPER: BLOWING SMOKE

Goblin stood across the street, leaning against a building, staring intently. I frowned angrily. What the hell was he doing on the street? Bullock might recognize him and realize we were playing games.

Obviously, he wanted to tell me something.

Bullock was about to enter another of countless dives. I told him, "Got to see a man about a horse in the alley."

"Yeah." He went inside. I slipped into the alley and made water. Goblin joined me there. "What is it?" I asked.

"What it is, Croaker, is it's him. Raven. Our Raven. Not only him, but Darling. She's a barmaid in a place called the Iron Lily."

"Holy shit," I murmured.

"Raven lives there. They're doing a show like they don't know each other that well. But Raven looks out for her."

"Damnit! It had to be, didn't it? What do we do now?"

"Maybe bend over and kiss our asses good-bye. The bastard could be smack in the middle of the body-selling racket. Everything we found could add up that way."

"How come you could find that when Bullock couldn't?"

"I got resources Bullock doesn't."

I nodded. He did. Sometimes it's handy, having a wizard around. Sometimes it's not, if it's one of those bitches up in Duretile. "Hurry it up," I said. "He'll wonder where I am."

"Raven has his own wagon and team. Keeps it way across town. Usually only takes it out late at night." I nodded. We'd already determined that body-runners worked the night shift. "But. . . ." he said, "and you're going to love this but, Croaker. He took it out in the daytime, once, a while back. Coincidentally, the day somebody hit the Catacombs."

"Oh boy."

"I looked that wagon over, Croaker. There was blood in it. Fairly fresh. I date it about when that moneylender and his pals disappeared."