“Why not ask Burden?”

“I already did. He said Ash said maybe you killed Broker, maybe not. Probably not, he said.’’

“I was there when Broker bought it.”

“You were there.”

“I didn’t pull the trigger.”

“Oh. Who did? Anybody I know?”

“Kid named Carl. Bodyguard of Broker’s.”

“Don’t know him.”

“You won’t get the pleasure. Him I did kill.”

“Oh. Well. What line you in these days, anyway?”

“I’m the house dick here.”

“Funny. You’re still funny as a crutch, Quarry.”

“Well I’m not naked and stupid, which I admit makes it tougher to get the laughs. But then I have the gun. So I get to ask the questions, now that the small talk is out of the way. Once again. Why are you here?”

“On a job, I said.”

“Tell me about the mark.”

“The mark?”

“It’s a term meaning the poor son of a bitch you’re here to help snuff.”

“You don’t want to know about that.”

“I don’t.”

“You know you don’t. You know that’s something I can’t tell you. You know that better than me, that somebody in our line don’t go around spreading the mark’s name around.”

“Somebody in our line doesn’t fuck teenagers when he’s out on a job, when he’s supposed to be inconspicuously getting his work done.”

“Where do you think I was tonight for three hours? I was working.”

“Be more specific.”

“Quarry, be reasonable!”

“The mark, Turner. Tell me about him. Or her.”

“Him.”

“Okay. Him.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then I’ll ask the inside of your head, after it slides down the wall behind you.”

“You wouldn’t do that. You’re too careful for that kind of thing, Quarry. You don’t go around killing people without…”

“You have five seconds.”

“Bullshit.”

“One.”

“His name is Castile.”