Part 6 (1/2)
She lowered her eyes for a moment, then said, ”I've been looking for you for a long time.”
”I thought it was a stone you were looking for.”
”Oh, it is. But you're the only man who can find it.”
”There're a lot of private eyes.”
”There's only one like you.”
He turned on her suddenly. ”You were smelling around the hospital records.”
She nodded. ”I had to find something out.”
”Did you?”
”Yes.”
”Now you know why I'm so lucky.”
”What do you mean?”
”You know the old stories about the seventh son of a seventh son,” he said harshly. ”Well, like a guy called Geosmith once said, I'm the seventh b.a.s.t.a.r.d of a seventh b.a.s.t.a.r.d.”
”Why do you make jokes that hurt you?”
”I like to be the first one to make 'em. You get your nose rubbed in a thing like that.”
”And things like your real name?”
”You did snoop.”
”I had to know.”
”Why? To find that stone?”
”Yes,” she said. ”You have it.”
”Not unless you planted it on me, like this cabbage.” He flicked the banknotes with his fingernail.
”You can be ever so sure I didn't,” she said seriously. ”I want it too badly. I just want to...” Her fingers curled. She had long slender, strong fingers. ”...to hold that cup. Just to hold it in these two hands.”
He looked at her tense face wondering where all the cold poise had gone. ”Well, it ought to be a snap. I have it, you want it. Tell me where I've hidden it and I'll hand it over.”
”I can't tell you where it is. You've got to find it yourself.”
”I thought you were going to talk sense.”
She sighed. ”Has it dawned on you yet that this is a slightly unusual case?”
He glanced again at the money. ”Seems so.”
”Then you have to take what comes as sense. Guinn, is a radio set magic?”
”Not to me it isn't.”
”But it would be to a bushman.”
”Mmm. So now I'm a bushman. I see what you mean. You're using my own arguments on me. If there's anything I don't understand in all this, it's because I don't have the background for it. Don't worry, I'm not going to get superst.i.tious.”
”All right. But a lot of this is going to demand new thinking-a new kind of thinking from you.”
”Do it to me.”
”All right. You went up on the Hill today. You picked up a girl called Lynn. She'd had some trouble with a man named Mordi. When you got to Percival, you found him in terrible shape. He talked to you and then died. When you got back to your friend Garry, you found him wounded by this same Mordi. You then-”
”Now, wait. Were you there?”
”No.”
”Then-”
”It was just something you had to go through.”
”What are you talking about?”
”Shall I start again from the beginning? You are a very special person, Hadley Guinn. You, and only you can find that cup. And the stone on it. Unless and until you find out who you are, you won't know where that cup is or how to find it. You can't be told-it's absolutely essential that you figure it out for yourself. In order to be able to figure it out, you've got to go through certain things. You'll keep on going through these things until you do figure it out-or die in the attempt. You already have all the evidence you need, but you won't look in the right direction. You've got a psychological block as big as a house that keeps you from it. You'll have to find it, or die. And if you're going to find it, it d.a.m.n well better be soon!”
”Suppose I don't?”
”We...you...won't have to worry any more.”
”I'm not worried now.”
”Yes you are.”
He studied his hands. ”Yeah,” he grunted. ”You're right about that.” He thought for a moment. ”Those things I have to...go through. You mean like finding old Percival that way?”
She nodded. ”And everything else that's happened since I walked in here.”
”Sort of...staged?”