Read Online Wild Cards [02] Aces High by George R.R. Martin - Free Book Online Page B

asked. "I give up."
    "Riding shotgun on the garbage truck," he said. "Hear what happened to the gal who won the Miss Jokertown contest?"
    "What?"
    "Lost her title when they learned she'd posed nude for Poultry Breeder's Gazette."
    "That's sick, Jube," said Croyd, quirking a smile.
    "I know. We got hit by a hurricane while you were asleep. Know what it did?"'
    "What?"
    "Four million dollars' worth of civic improvement."
    "All right, already!" Croyd said. "What do I owe you?" Jube put down his paper, rose, and waddled to the side of the kiosk.
    "Nothin'," he said. "I want to talk to you."
    "I've got to eat, Jube. When I wake up I need a lot of food in a hurry. I'll come back later, all right?"
    "Is it okay if I join you?"
    "Sure. But you'll lose business." Jube began closing the stand.
    "That's okay," he said. "This is business."
    Croyd waited for him to secure the stand, and they walked two blocks to Hairy's Kitchen.
    "Let's take that booth in the back," Jube said.
    "Fine. No business till after my first round of food, though, okay? I can't concentrate with low blood sugar, funny hormones and lots of transaminases. Let me get something else inside first."
    "I understand. Take your time."
    When the waiter came by, Jube said that he had already eaten and ordered only a cup of coffee which he never touched. Croyd started with a double order of steak and eggs and a pitcher of orange juice.
    Ten minutes later when the pancakes arrived, Jube cleared his throat.
    "Yeah," Croyd said. "That's better. So what's bothering you, Jube?",
    "Hard to begin," said the other.
    "Start anywhere. Life is brighter for me now."
    "It isn't always healthy to get too curious about other people's business around here. . . ."
    "True," Croyd agreed.
    "On the other hand, people love to gossip, to speculate." Croyd nodded, kept eating.
    "It's no secret about the way you sleep, and that's got to keep you from holding a regular job. Now, you seem more of an ace than a joker, overall. I mean, usually you look normal but you've got some special talent."
    "I haven't got a handle on it yet, this time around."
    "Whatever. You dress well, you pay your bills, you like to eat at Aces High, and that ain't a Timex you're wearing. You've got to do something to stay on top-unless you inherited a bundle."
    Croyd smiled.
    "I'm afraid to look at the Wall Street journal," he said, touching the stack of papers at his side. "I may have to do something I haven't done in a while if it says what I think it's going to say."
    "May I assume then that when you work your employment is sometimes somewhat less than legal?"
    Croyd raised his head, and when their eyes met Jube flinched. It was the first time Croyd realized that the man was nervous. He laughed.
    "Hell, Jube," he said. "I've known you long enough to know you're no cop. You want something done, is that it? If it involves stealing something, I'm good at that. I learned from an expert. If someone's being blackmailed I'll be glad to get the evidence back and scare the living shit out of the person doing it. If you want something removed, destroyed, transported, I'm your man. On the other hand, if you want somebody killed I don't like to do that. But I could give you the names of a couple of people it wouldn't bother."
    Jube shook his head.
    "I don't want anybody killed, Croyd. I do want something stolen, though."
    "Before you go into any details, I'd better tell you that I come high."
    Jube showed his tusks,
    "The-uh-interests I represent are prepared to make it worth your while."
    Croyd finished the pancakes, drank coffee, and ate a Danish while he waited for the waffles.
    "It's a body, Croyd," Jube said at last. "What?"
    "A corpse."
    "I don't understand."
    "There was a guy who died over the weekend. Body was found in. a dumpster. No ID. It's a John Doe. Over at the morgue. "
    "Jeez, Jube! A body? I never stole a body before. What good is it to anybody?"
    Jube shrugged.
    "They're willing to pay real well for it-and for whatever