Jules removed the pill bottle from his pocket. “Yeah, it’s good to see you again, Marvin. But this isn’t a social call. I need to ask you a favor.”

“Sure. If it’s within my power, and it’s not unreasonable, I’ll do whatever I can for you. You have a dead body you need to get autopsied?” He smiled.

Jules didn’t return the smile. He placed the pill bottle on Oday’s desk. “You’re a chemist. I need you to analyze these pills. They’re a special kind of medication, and they’re real important to me. I can’t get any more from where I got them the first time. I need you to find out what they’re made of. If it’s possible, I want you to make more for me, or at least tell me where I could get it done.”

Oday raised an eyebrow. He frowned. “We aren’t talking about anillegal medication, are we? If not, I don’t see why you can’t take these to a pharmacist and get your prescription refilled-”

Jules cut him off. “They’re an experimental medication. Doc Landrieu came up with them for me. But he can’t make any more.”

“DocLandrieu came up with these for you?” Oday’s face relaxed into a grin. “How’s that old rascal doing? I’d heard that he was still fooling around with a chemistry set between rounds of golf. So now he’s in the medicine business? Let’s see… the last time I saw him was a couple of years back, at a charity fund-raiser. You’ve seen him recently, I take it?”

“Yeah. I’ve seen him.”

“So how come he can’t give you more of these pills he invented?”

Jules involuntarily grimaced. He felt lost in a poisonous fog. “It’s a long story. I can’t go into it. Look, Marvin, just analyze these for me, okay? I won’t ask you to make more for me. Just tell me what’s in them.”

Oday picked up the pill bottle and eyed it thoughtfully. “Well… I suppose there’s no harm in that. I can set aside some time later tonight, in fact. You’ll leave these with me?”

Jules took the bottle back from Oday. He popped the top off, shook out two of the white tablets marked with anA, and placed them on Oday’s desk. That left only one pill for him to take. One pill for tomorrow night. After that, he’d be at the mercy of some chemist somewhere. Or at the mercy of Malice X.

“Thanks, Marvin. You’re a good friend.”

“Yes. Well,you were a good friend, back when I needed one.” Oday sighed. “How can I reach you once I have your results?”

“You got a White Pages I can use?”

“Of course.” Oday opened up a desk drawer and handed him a phone book.

Jules looked up the number of the Twelve Oaks Guest House. “Try me at this number. I’m in cabin number four.” Then he thought to give him Maureen’s number, as well. There was always a chance he might have to seek refuge in her house. “If you can’t reach me at this bed-and-breakfast, try me at this friend’s number, okay?”

While he was writing Maureen’s phone number on a pad, Jules’s thoughts were tugged to Malice X’s final, mocking words of advice.Get some pussy while you still can. He’d taken the taunt as just another installment in a long series of threats. But after the obscenity that had been committed against Doc Landrieu, those words took on a different and awful significance.

The pen burst in Jules’s fist, splattering ink across the desk. A surge of terror-propelled adrenaline nearly exploded his heart from his chest.

“Maureen!”

SEVENTEEN

Maureen hadn’t answered her phone.That doesn’t mean anything, Jules told himself over and over. He pushed the Lincoln hard, overextending its flaccid suspension and denting its axles in the pits of unseen chuckholes on Canal Street.That doesn’t mean anything, ‘cause she’s probably workin’ at Jezebel’s. No one had picked up the phone at the club, either. Butthat didn’t mean anything, because no one ever picked up the phone at that damn dive. So he’d had no choice but to drive like a bat out of hell to the French Quarter.

Even this late, parking was tight in the upper Quarter. Jules had to park three blocks west of the club, just a block from Maureen’s house. He walked as fast as he could, brushing past bunches of wild-eyed frat boys and sport-jacketed conventioneers crowding the sidewalk. He nearly tripped over the legs of an unconscious drunk, half hidden in the shadows at the intersection of Iberville and Bourbon, but he recovered his balance and hurried onward.

The caricature of Maureen posted in the glass display case in front of Jezebel’s was even more faded than Jules remembered. He propelled himself up the foyer’s steep steps two at a time, vaguely recalling the nights when he’d had to rest after every third step. Tonight his muscles answered his desperate commands without complaint, but he wondered how long it would be before his drug-fueled vitality evaporated.

The club was surprisingly empty. The greeter, a balding retiree in a plaid jacket, looked half asleep. He perked up slightly when Jules approached. “No cover charge tonight, buddy. Buy three drinks, get the second one free-”

“Is Maureen here?”

“Who?”

“Maureen.One of the dancers. I’ve gotta see her right away.”

The greeter’s tall forehead wrinkled with thought. “Maureen? One ofour dancers? Can’t say I know of any ‘Maureen’ around here, mister. ‘Course, I’m kinda new, just doin’ this to supplement my Social Security-”

Jules grabbed the old man’s shoulders. “You’vegotta know her! She’s only the biggest fuckin‘ star this dump’s got! She’s blond, got hips out to here-she’s as big asme, practically-”

The greeter’s eyes sparkled with sudden understanding. “Oh! Thatone! You mean Round Robin, mister. Ain’t got no ‘Maureen’ around here-”

Jules nearly screamed with frustration, but he managed to control himself. “Yeah.That’s who I mean. She here tonight?”

The old man sighed disgustedly. “Boy, that girl’s sure got a following! You’re the tenth customer been askin‘ after her tonight. Well, she ain’t doin’ her regular show. I don’t know why, no sir. But don’t walk out on me-we got one hell of a terrific drink special tonight-”

Jules spotted a bartender he recognized. “Yo!Winchell!” Jules called out when he was still five paces from the bar. “You seen Maureen around anytime tonight?”

The bartender looked up from the glasses he was scrubbing with a dirty wipe rag. “Not tonight, pal. She was in last night, but she left after her first set, and she didn’t make it back for her second. The boss was pretty pissed. Dinah might know something. She filled in for Maureen last night.”

“Thanks, Winchell,” Jules said. He stalked past the stage, where a slender, buxom dancer wriggled in front of mostly empty tables, and headed for the door markedPRIVATE-EMPLOYEES ONLY. He shoved the door open and went down the hall to Maureen’s private dressing room, which Dinah sometimes shared with her. The room was dark and empty.

He tried the other dressing room next. Thankfully, Dinah was there. She was carefully applying a ponderous set of false eyelashes in front of an illuminated mirror when Jules burst in. The eyelashes fluttered to the floor as she spun around. “Jules! Honey, am I ever glad to seeyou! What’s going on with Maureen?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Jules answered, barely remembering to step to the side so Dinah wouldn’t spot his unreflection in the mirror. “I’m tryin‘ to find her. The bartender said she skipped outta here last night.”

“What? You haven’t been with her? But that call last night-I thought she ran out of here to be withyou!”

Jules felt a tremor in his chest. “You know who called her?”

“No. I’ve got no idea. She wouldn’t say, but she looked awful worried-”

“You were with her when she took the call?”

“Yeah. We were in her dressing room. She’s got a private line installed, since nobody ever picks up the phone out front. It hardly ever rings, so I was pretty surprised when it rang last night. After she said hello she got this terrible look on her face, like she’d just heard somebody had died or something. I asked her what was up, but she wouldn’t tell me nothing. She just said she had to leave right away, and asked could I cover her second dance shift. Then she ran out of here. She was so worried, Jules, I figured the call was eitherfrom you orabout you.”