Trumps of doom

«Huh? Who's Martinez?»

«One of your potential investors in Corey and Raynard, Inc.,» I said. «Dan Martinez - middle-aged, a bit short, kind of distinguished-looking, chipped front tooth…»

His brow furrowed. «Merle, I don't know who the hell you're talking about.»

«He came up to me while I was waiting for you in the bar. Seemed to know an awful lot about you. Started asking questions on what I can now see as the potential situation you just described. Acted as if you'd approached him to invest in the thing.»

«Uh-uh,» he said. «I don't know him. How come you didn't tell me sooner?»

«He beat it, and you said no business till after dinner. Didn't seem all that important, anyway. He even as much as asked me to let you know he'd been inquiring about you.»

«What, specifically, did he want to know?»

«Whether you could deliver an unencumbered computer property and keep the investors out of court, was what I gathered.»

He slapped the wheel. «This makes no sense at all,» he said. «It really doesn't.»

«It occurs to me that he might have been hired to investigate a bit - or even just to shake you up some and keep you honest - by the people you've been sounding out to invest in this thing.»

«Merle, do you think I'm so damn stupid I'd waste a lot of time digging up investors before I was even sure there was something to put the money into? I haven't talked to anybody about this except you, and I guess I won't be now either. Who do you think he could have been? What did he want?»

I shook my head, but I was remembering those words in Thari.

Why not?

«He also asked me whether I'd ever heard you refer to a place called Amber.»

He was looking in the rearview mirror when I said it, and he jerked the wheel to catch a sudden curve. «Amber? You're kidding.»

«No.»

«Strange. It has to be a coincidence -»

«What?»

«I did hear a reference to a kind of dreamland place called Amber, last week. But I never mentioned it to anybody. It was just drunken babbling.»

«Who? Who said it?»

«A painter I know. A real nut, but a very talented guy. Name's Melman. I like his work a lot, and I've bought several of his paintings. I'd stopped by to see whether he had anything new this last time I was in town. He didn't, but I stayed pretty late at his place anyway, talking and drinking and smoking some stuff he had. He got pretty high after a while and he started talking about magic. Not card tricks, I mean. Ritual stuff, you know?»

«Yes.»

«Well, after a time he started doing some of it. If it weren't that I was kind of stoned myself I'd swear that it worked - that he levitated, summoned sheets of fire, conjured and banished a number of monsters. There had to've been acid in something he gave me. But damn! It sure seemed real.»

«Uh-huh.»

«Anyway,» he went on, «he mentioned a sort of archetypal city. I couldn't tell whether it sounded more like Sodom and Gomorrah or Camelot - all the adjectives he used. He called the place Amber, and said that it was run by a half mad family, with the city itself peopled by their bastards and folks whose ancestors they'd brought in from other places ages ago. Shadows of the family and the city supposedly figure in most major legends and such whatever that means. I could never be sure whether he was talking in metaphor, which he did a lot, or just what the hell he meant. But that's where I heard the place mentioned.»

«Interesting,» I said. «Melman is dead. His place burned down a few days ago.»

«No, I didn't know.» He glanced into the mirror again. «Did you know him?»

«I met him - after you left this last time. Kinsky told me Julia'd been seeing him, and I looked the guy up to see what he could tell me about her. You see - well, Julia's dead.»

«How'd it happen? I just saw her last week.»

«In a very bizarre fashion. She was killed by a strange animal»

«Lord!» He braked suddenly and pulled off the road onto a wide shoulder to the left. It looked upon a steep, tree-filled drop. Above the trees I could see the tiny lights of the city across a great distance.

He killed the engine and the headlights. He took a Durham 's bag from his pocket and began rolling a cigarette. I caught him glancing upward and ahead.

«You've been checking that mirror a lot.»

«Yes,» he replied. «I was just about sure a car had been following us all the way from the parking lot down at the Hilton. It was a few turns behind us for the longest while. Now it seems to have disappeared.»

He lit his cigarette and opened the door. «Let's get some air.»

I followed him and we stood for a few moments staring out across the big spaces, the moonlight strong enough to cast the shadows of some trees near to us. He threw down the cigarette and stamped on it.

«Shit!» he said. «'This is getting too involved! I knew Julia was seeing Melman, okay? I went to see her the night after I'd seen him, okay? I even delivered a small parcel he' d asked me to take her, okay?»

«Cards,» I said. He nodded.