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'
Yeah
.
He
want
to
kill
me
,
Julie
?
’
'
Not
that
I
know
of
.
’
Deane
shrugged
.
They
might
have
been
discussing
the
price
of
ginger
.
'
If
it
proves
to
be
an
unfounded
rumor
,
old
son
,
you
come
back
in
a
week
or
so
and
I
’
ll
let
you
in
on
a
little
something
out
of
Singapore
.
’
'
Out
of
the
Nan
Hai
Hotel
,
Bencoolen
Street
?
’
'
Loose
lips
,
old
son
!
’
Deane
grinned
.
The
steel
desk
was
jammed
with
a
fortune
in
debugging
gear
.
'
Be
seeing
you
,
Julie
.
I
’
ll
say
hello
to
Wage
.
’
Deane
’
s
fingers
came
up
to
brush
the
perfect
knot
in
his
pale
silk
tie
.
He
was
less
than
a
block
from
Deane
’
s
office
when
it
hit
,
the
sudden
cellular
awareness
that
someone
was
on
his
ass
,
and
very
close
.
The
cultivation
of
a
certain
tame
paranoia
was
something
Case
took
for
granted
.
The
trick
lay
in
not
letting
it
get
out
of
control
.
But
that
could
be
quite
a
trick
,
behind
a
stack
of
octagons
.
He
fought
the
adrenaline
surge
and
composed
his
narrow
features
in
a
mask
of
bored
vacancy
,
pretending
to
let
the
crowd
carry
him
along
.
When
he
saw
a
darkened
display
window
,
he
managed
to
pause
by
it
.
The
place
was
a
surgical
boutique
,
closed
for
renovations
.
With
his
hands
in
the
pockets
of
his
jacket
,
he
stared
through
the
glass
at
a
flat
lozenge
of
vatgrown
flesh
that
lay
on
a
carved
pedestal
of
imitation
jade
.
The
color
of
its
skin
reminded
him
of
Zone
’
s
whores
;
it
was
tattooed
with
a
luminous
digital
display
wired
to
a
subcutaneous
chip
.
Why
bother
with
the
surgery
,
he
found
himself
thinking
,
while
sweat
coursed
down
his
ribs
,
when
you
could
just
carry
the
thing
around
in
your
pocket
?
Without
moving
his
head
,
he
raised
his
eyes
and
studied
the
reflection
of
the
passing
crowd
.
