Shed buried his head in his hands and groaned. It would never end. Not till it devoured him. He cast curses on Raven and all his house.

The common room was empty. The door was closed. "First we have to take care of Gilbert," Lisa said.

Shed bobbed his head, refused to look up.

"That was stupid, giving him jewelry he would recognize. He'll kill you if we don't kill him first."

Again Shed bobbed his head. Why me? he whined to himself. What have I done to deserve this?

"And don't you think you can get rid of me the way you did Sue and that blackmailer. My father has a letter he'll take to Bullock if I disappear."

"You're too smart for your own good." And: "It won't be long till winter."

"Yes. But we won't do it Raven's way. Too risky and too much work. We'll get charitable. Let all the derelicts in. One or two can disappear every night." "You're talking murder!"

"Who'll care? Nobody. They'll be better off themselves. Call it mercy."

"How can anybody so young be so heartless?" "You don't prosper in the Buskin if you have a heart, Mr. Shed. We'll fix a place where the outside cold will keep them till we get a wagonload. We can take them up maybe once a week." "Winter is. . . ."

"Is going to be my last season in the Buskin." "I won't do it."

"Yes, you will. Or you'll hear from Bullock. You don't have a choice. You have a partner." "God, deliver me from evil." "Are you less evil than me? You killed five people." "Four," he protested weakly.

"You think Sue is still alive? You're splitting hairs. Any way you look at it, you're guilty of murder. You're a murderer so dumb about money he doesn't have a gersh to his name. So stupid he keeps getting tangled with Sues and Gilberts. Mr. Shed, they only execute you once."

How to argue with sociopathic reasoning? Lisa was the heart of Lisa's universe. Other people existed only to be exploited.

"There are some others we should think about after Gilbert. That man of Krage's who got away. He knows there was something strange about the bodies not turning up. He hasn't talked or it would be all over the Buskin. But someday he might. And there's the man you hired to help you with the blackmailer."

She sounded like a general planning a campaign. Planning murder wholesale. How could anybody? . . .

"I want no more blood on my hands, Lisa."

"How much choice do you have?"

He could not deny that Gilbert's death had meaning in the equation of his survival. And after Gilbert, one more. Before she destroyed him. She would let her guard down sometime.

What about that letter? Damn. Maybe her father had to go first. . . . The trap was vast and had no apparent exits.