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'
Look
,
Case
,
you
tell
me
what
the
fuck
is
going
on
with
you
,
you
wig
or
something
?
What
’
s
this
shit
I
’
m
trying
to
kill
you
?
’
Wage
turned
to
the
boy
on
his
left
.
'
You
two
go
back
to
the
Namban
.
Wait
for
me
.
’
Case
watched
as
they
crossed
the
bar
,
which
was
now
entirely
deserted
except
for
Kurt
and
a
drunken
sailor
in
khakis
,
who
was
curled
at
the
foot
of
a
barstool
.
The
barrel
of
the
Smith
&
Wesson
tracked
the
two
to
the
door
,
then
swung
back
to
cover
Wage
.
The
magazine
of
Case
’
s
pistol
clattered
on
the
table
.
Ratz
held
the
gun
in
his
claw
and
pumped
the
round
out
of
the
chamber
.
'
Who
told
you
I
was
going
to
hit
you
,
Case
?
’
Wage
asked
.
Linda
.
'
Who
told
you
,
man
?
Somebody
trying
to
set
you
up
?
’
The
sailor
moaned
and
vomited
explosively
.
'
Get
him
out
of
here
,
’
Ratz
called
to
Kurt
,
who
was
sitting
on
the
edge
of
the
bar
now
,
the
Smith
&
Wesson
across
his
lap
,
lighting
a
cigarette
.
Case
felt
the
weight
of
the
night
come
down
on
him
like
a
bag
of
wet
sand
settling
behind
his
eyes
.
He
took
the
flask
out
of
his
pocket
and
handed
it
to
Wage
.
'
All
I
got
.
Pituitaries
.
Get
you
five
hundred
if
you
move
it
fast
.
Had
the
rest
of
my
roll
in
some
RAM
,
but
that
’
s
gone
by
now
.
’
'
You
okay
,
Case
?
’
The
flask
had
already
vanished
behind
a
gunmetal
lapel
.
'
I
mean
,
fine
,
this
’
ll
square
us
,
but
you
look
bad
.
Like
hammered
shit
.
You
better
go
somewhere
and
sleep
.
’
'
Yeah
.
’
He
stood
up
and
felt
the
Chat
sway
around
him
.
'
Well
,
I
had
this
fifty
,
but
I
gave
it
to
somebody
.
’
He
giggled
.
He
picked
up
the
.
