Or maybe he’d seen some movies with arty funhouse shootout scenes, and figured I’d be distracted by all those reflections of myself and he could maybe somehow lose me in there. Which was a possibility. Maybe it would have been smarter to just wait for him to come out.

But he might also know his way around in there; maybe he was a pretty good friend of the guy who ran the house, and knew where an office was or a back exit or something. Or maybe he figured he knew the place well enough to hide somewhere and jump me as I came by.

Who could tell what he thought.

At any rate, I found him, in an enclosed area of perhaps sixteen mirrors, none of them distorting, and nobody else was around at the moment, and if he thought hiding in the House of Mirrors would be to his advantage, he was wrong-unless he enjoyed watching all those images of himself getting shot through the sternum.

I found my way out with little trouble. Behind me I heard somebody finding him, and making a fuss, going into a screaming panic. That was too bad. Had everything gone as it should, the mark would have been found no sooner than morning, in all probability.

I found Turner in the trailer behind the Gorilla Girl’s tent.

I knocked and, finally, was answered by a pretty brunette of about twenty, though her face was an easy ten years harder.

“Tell Cheetah Tarzan’s here to see him,” I said.

“Go away,” she said, starting to push shut the door.

I pushed it open and found Turner naked in bed and pulled him out by the arm and threw him on the floor.

“What the hell…?” he said.

I kicked his balls up in him.

That kept him busy for a few minutes, during which time I told Zamorita to get him his clothes.