“Am I here making a citizen’s arrest, you mean? No.”

“Then… why… what…?”

I said nothing.

“Jesus, Quarry. I… I mean. I haven’t thought of you in years. I haven’t seen you since that carnival thing.”

I said nothing.

“Are you listening to what I’m saying, Quarry? I am saying I honest to Christ don’t know what this is about. I don’t see you in five years and you show up in my hotel room and tear my fucking nuts half off, Jesus. It’s crazy. You’re crazy.”

“What are you doing here, Turner?”

“What do you mean?”

I said nothing.

“I’m here on business.”

“On what?”

“Business. I’m here on a job.”

“What sort of job.”

“Same. Same as when you and me worked together. What about you, Quarry? I heard you left the business.”

“And here I thought you hadn’t heard about me in five years.”

“I didn’t say that, exactly. I did hear about you.”

“Who from?”

“Guy I work with.”

“Name of?”

“Burden.”

“Don’t think I know him.”

“Short guy, balding, on the heavy side. In his late forties, early fifties.”

“Don’t know him.”

“He doesn’t know you, either.”

“He just tells people about me.”

“We were talking one time, we were talking about people we worked with. Your name come up. He heard about you from some other guy he worked with.”

“Name of?”

“Ash.”

“Ash I know.”

“Sure. You worked with Ash, right after Broker split you and me up, right?”

“That’s right.”

“It’s funny, what happened with the Broker, isn’t it.”

“A stitch.”

“I mean… I heard you was there.”

“I was.”

“Did you, uh, kill him or what?”