Chapter 12

I woke up just before ten o'clock, as usual, and tiptoed out of the bedroom so as to not wake Rainbow. Thaddeus, totally dressed, was standing by the window in the living room, looking out at the grounds with an amused smile on his face.

"What are you doing up?" I asked.

He put a finger to his lips, pointed to Dapper Dan, who was still sound asleep, and whispered: "I haven't been to bed yet."

"Is something the matter?" I whispered back to him.

"I spent most of the night reading. When I finally looked at the time, I figured I might as well stay up or I'd oversleep my little meeting with Romany." He looked back out the window. "There's a pair of cops out there. I've been watching them for the better part of twenty minutes."

"Why are they here?"

"Why do any cops come to a carnival?" he smiled. "These guys must be a little new on the job, though. They don't seem to know who to talk to. I think Monk must have scared them out of a year's growth when he took Bruno out for a walk a little while ago."

I walked over to the window and looked out. The two policemen were engaged in an animated conversation with Stogie, which was always a mistake: eventually he'd tell them what they wanted to know, but not until he tried out twenty or thirty octogenarian jokes on them first. They listened to him, patiently at first, then with increasing irritation. Finally one of them shouted something at him, and after first giving them a look of complete disdain for their lack of humor or intelligence or both, he finally took his ever-present cigar out of his mouth and pointed it toward our trailer.

A moment later they knocked on the door, and Thaddeus gestured to me to follow him outside so as not to wake the two sleeping aliens.

"You're Thaddeus Flint?" asked the taller of the two cops.

"That's right," said Thaddeus, zipping his jacket up to the top and putting his hands in his pockets. "You're a little early for the show, officer."

"As a matter of fact, that's just what we want to talk to you about," was the reply.

"You don't mind if we walk while we talk, do you?" replied Thaddeus. "It's too cold to stand still."

"Fine by us," said the shorter one.

Thaddeus turned to me and nodded. It was my signal to disappear: cops didn't like witnesses around when they took payoffs.

I decided not to go back to the trailer, since I didn't want to wake the sleeping aliens, but I did stop by the Hothouse to hunt up Swede and tell him he'd better get back on duty in the next few minutes. I hung around long enough to warm up a little, then stuck my head out to see if Thaddeus was through with the police yet.

He was standing alone, lighting his first cigarette of the morning, and I walked out to join him.

"All done?" I asked.

He nodded. "Come along and keep me company, Tojo."

We walked over to the Rigger's trailer and Thaddeus pounded on the door until Diggs opened it.

"I took care of the cops," Thaddeus reported. "You're all set."

"How long?" asked the Rigger.

"Five days. Then they'll be back for more."

"Are we going to stay in this arctic wasteland for five more days?"

"I haven't decided yet," said Thaddeus. "Go back to sleep. You'll catch cold standing there in your shorts, and I might just laugh myself to death."

Diggs closed the door without another word, and we walked over to the girlie tent. Alma and three of the others were sitting around in jeans and sweaters, drinking coffee and hot chocolate laced with whiskey, while Gloria, wearing her leotards, was going through her usual morning regimen: sit-ups, kicks, leg-lifts, and stretching exercises. She took her work seriously—probably too seriously—and I always got the feeling that the other strippers resented her, if only because she made them look so lazy by comparison.

"Good morning," said Gloria, starting to practice her shoulder shimmies.

"Nothing good about it," said Thaddeus. "It's freezing out there."

"Well?" said Alma.

"Well what?"

"I saw you talking to the cops."

"They thought it was cold too," said Thaddeus.

"Get to the point," said Alma wearily. "How strong do we have to work?"

"Pasties and G-strings."

"Okay," said Alma. "Now that you've had your joke for the day, how about it?"

"You heard me," said Thaddeus.

Gloria stopped shimmying to stare at him, and Barbara, another of the strippers, laughed sarcastically. "Come on, Thaddeus," she said. "What's the angle?"

"There's no angle," he said gruffly. "I'm just sick and tired of paying off the cops."

"Payoff and Thaddeus go together like ham and rye," persisted Barbara. "What's coming down?"

"Not a damned thing. If you want to do a little flashing, that's up to you—but I won't bail you out."

"The freaks aren't making that much money," said Barbara.

"And even if they are, when did you ever turn away a fast buck with the meat show?" added Priscilla, who danced under the name of the Silicone Superstar.

"Let's have it, Thaddeus," said Barbara. "What's the bottom line?"

"The bottom line is that you broads are going to have to start working for a living instead of laying down on a stage and playing games with a bunch of hicks. If you can't hack it, you can work the games for the Rigger."

"You say it like you mean it," said Priscilla dubiously.

"I'll believe it when I see it," said Barbara.

"You'll see it starting with the first show today," said Thaddeus, "or else you're going to be out on your shapely little ass."

"You know," said Barbara, "I think you really do mean it." She paused uneasily for a second. "Look, Thaddeus, this is the last thing I ever thought I'd say, but . . . well, we've worked pretty strong since we've been here, and the word has to have gotten around. So if you want us to wait until we hit the next town . . ."

"You just don't listen, do you?" said Thaddeus irritably. "There are going to be two very unhappy cops sitting in the first row all week long, just looking for a reason to bust you."

"Just how much did they try to shake you down for?" asked Priscilla.

"Same as always. I just decided that I'm tired of paying for it."

"Are the freaks really pulling in that much money?"

"What the freaks are doing is none of your business," said Thaddeus. "Your business, starting here and now, is to start acting more like strippers and less like whores. If you can't remember how, watch Gloria."

"Just a minute!" said Barbara hotly. "Who made us act like that in the first place?"

"Shut up!" snapped Alma, who had been silent throughout, and Barbara stopped speaking, startled.

"Well," said Thaddeus, looking very uncomfortable, "that's that." He turned to me. "Come on, you lecherous little dwarf. Haven't you gotten enough of an eyeful yet?"

He walked briskly out of the tent. I fell into step behind him, but before I even got to the door Alma had run by me and grabbed Thaddeus by the arm.

"Go back inside," he said. "You'll freeze to death."

"I know how much this is going to cost you," she said, looking straight into his eyes. "Thank you."