Nightworld

* * *

"I like that sign over the bar," Veilleur said.

Jack glanced up at Julio's "Free Beer Tomorrow" logo. It had been there so long, Jack no longer noticed it.

"Yeah. Gets him in trouble sometimes."

They were each on their third pint of John Courage. Julio had put it on tap as a special favor to Jack but it had quickly become a favorite of the regulars. Unfortunately, its availability had attracted the attention of the area's abundant yuppy population, and for a while Julio's had seemed in danger of being overrun.

But it was relatively quiet here tonight and Jack and the old guy had the rear section pretty much to themselves. An arrangement Jack preferred on most occasions, but especially tonight. He wouldn't have wanted anyone he knew overhearing this Veilleur character's story. It was crazy. No, it went far beyond crazy. It was to crazy what a .45 prefragmented full load was to a BB.

But there was something about the old guy that Jack couldn't help liking and trusting. On a very deep, very basic, very primitive level he didn't understand, he sensed a solidarity with Veilleur, a subliminal bond, as if they were kindred spirits. He wouldn't lie to Jack.

But that didn't mean he wasn't a few bricks shy of the proverbial full load.

Yet he knew about the rakoshi, those dark, murderous, reeking demons from Bengali folklore, and about Kolabati and her pair of necklaces, with their power to heal and prolong life.

"I wore one of those necklaces for a while. Bati offered it to me."

"And you refused? Why?"

"Didn't like the price tag."

Veilleur nodded his approval and somehow that gave Jack a good feeling. What was it about this old dude?

"So this problem with the sun they've been talking about all day is really this guy Rasalom's doing? He made the sun rise late?"

"And set early. Apparently you haven't heard the evening news. Sundown was a little over ten minutes ahead of schedule."

The idea that the sun was no longer following its own rules gave Jack a queasy feeling.

"But assuming you're right, what it all mean?"

"I told you—"

"Right. 'The end of life as we know it.'" Jack was almost afraid to ask the next question. "Why were you looking for me?"

"I'm trying to locate Kolabati."

Kolabati…Jack was devoted to Gia, now more than ever. But there were times when memories of Kolabati and her long, dark, slender body floated back to him.

"Afraid I can't help you. I haven't seen her for years."

"Oh, I realize that. I'll find her eventually. And when I do, that's when I'll need your help."

"What for?"

"I need the necklaces."

Jack suppressed a laugh. "You don't know what you're asking. Kolabati will never give them up. Not in a million years. You might talk her out of one, but never both."

"I'll need both. And soon."

"Then forget it. The necklace keeps her alive, keeps her young. She's a hundred and fifty years old."

"Not quite," Veilleur said. "But close."

"Whatever. But she only looks thirty or so. All because of the necklace. Do you think she's going to give that up?"

"That's why I've contacted you. So you can convince her once I've located her."

"She'll die without it."

"I have faith in you."

Jack stared at him.

"You really are crazy, aren't you?" He rose and dropped a twenty on the table. "I don't think we can do business."

Veilleur reached into his breast pocket and produced a card.

"This is my number. Please take it. And call me when you reconsider."

Reluctantly, Jack took the card and tucked it away.

"You mean if I reconsider."

"Will you reconsider if Central Park shrinks?"

"Sure." That seemed a safe bet. "When Central Park shrinks, I'll give you a buzz."

"Fine," Veilleur said, smiling and nodding. "I'll be waiting."

Jack left him there, sipping his Courage. Nice old guy, but he'd developed a few loose wires in his old age.

As he walked home, he thought about Kolabati and wondered how she was. Where she was. And what she was up to these days.