TWELVE

I saw her fall. I saw it with my own to eyes, and I screamed until my throat was hoarse. I was taken away. On the orders of General Chang I was deported. They ruled it a suicide. Chang ordered them to rule her death a suicide.

I woke to the sound of banging on my door. I squinted ay my watch. It was seven thirty in the morning, which meant I only had about two hours sleep, and I was dreaming about Madripoor again. I rolled out of bed and stumbled to the door, rubbing my face. The door opened on new hinges that no longer squealed when they moved; I replaced the old ones after my door was kicked in. Joe Greenson stood awkwardly in my doorway, clutching his hat in his hands. His face was red and his eyes were shadowed and bloodshot. "Logan. Did I wake you?"

"Naw Joe, I always look this bright eyed and bushy tailed this early of a morning." I moved away from the door to allow him in. He stood where he was. "You want coffee or somethin' Joe, or is this not a social call?"

He shook his head. As if he needed to.

"Logan, I'm evicting you."

"What?"

"The break-in the other night was the last straw," He replied quickly, his reddened face turning redder. "On top of the bulky Russian lad and the business with Worthington, I think you can see why I have to do this."

"No, Joe. I don't see why you have to do this." I stared at him for a few moments, him breaking the stare off by looking at his feet. "I've paid up until the end of the month, Joe."

He produced an envelope from his coat and handed it to me. "That's what is left of your rent. Now legally, I have to serve you notice, but since I am handing you back the rent, the decent thing to do would be to leave."

I felt my hands involuntarily close into fists at my sides, my head down, my eyes never leaving Joe Greenson. Shadows of sweat were appearing under his arms, and his face was slick with perspiration. He wanted out of here fast. "Who paid you off, Joe?" I asked in a raw voice. My throat felt surprisingly thick with emotion. "Who paid you to screw me?"

"It's nothing like that, Logan," Joe said, blotting his forehead with a handkerchief. "I have to think about what is best for the other tenants and me as a landlord. I shouldn't put them in danger by allowing anyone to conduct business…"

"…How would you know how I conduct business?" I roared, startling Joe so much he had backed up to the door, fumbling with his handkerchief. "You don't care about your tenants and their safety, Joe. You've let them live in a death trap this long. So what is this about, really? First that little 'talk' we had the other day, and now this. You've never showed more than a passing interest in my affairs before. Why the hell do you care so much now?"

His voice came out too small. He was clearly afraid. "I-I have made my decision, Logan. Please have your things out of here by 10 o'clock tomorrow." He escaped out the door then, his feet whispering down the hallway.

Most of the stuff in my apartment was there when I arrived anyway, and the only things I really needed were my clothes, which I packed into an old gym bag and slung over my shoulder, along with Kwannon's sword. Figuring that whatever was about to happen from now on, at least I had clothes on my back and a pig sticker to beat the baddies away. I stepped out into the hall and noticed Mrs. O'Halloran standing on the carpet in between our apartments.

"I heard what just happened, Logan." She said quietly.

I nodded. "I guess I'm more of a pain in the ass than I thought," I responded with a smile.

She smiled a little, too. "What will you do now?"

I shrugged. "What I've always done. I'll figure something out."

She shook her head and the lines on her forehead deepened as she withdrew her purse from her coat. I was already protesting as she produced a wad of bills. "Logan, for once will you accept someone's help and not call it charity!" She said firmly, grabbing my hand and shoving the bills into it.

"But…I can't…"

"You'll do as I say, Logan! Take the money and at least use it to get a cheap room for the next few days. Even if you give the money away after that, I don't care."

I closed my fist around the money, looked up and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you."

She nodded and shooed me away, trying once again to hide behind her image of a rough old lady.

I wondered if Johnnie Wraith knew what had happened. I wondered if he had cooked up more fantastic conspiracy theories for me to buy into. I walked a few blocks, trying to work off the anger that bubbled inside me because someone was playing me for a fool. My whole life was going to the dogs and it all started when I accepted the job from Xavier. I knew I should have looked into the situation a little more closely before taking him on, but I couldn't blame him for this. Not really. I wondered if Kwannon's bald man was in fact Xavier, and his job, the whole thing, was a set up to get me killed. Why? Did he have connections with this Barrington, who paid Kwannon to kill me?

Edmund's speech from the other night rattled around in my head. "You just be sure you know what you're doing"….

This whole situation stank to high heaven. Joe Greenson was scared when he evicted me, so much so that he was physically shaking. I'd never known him to give refunds in the entire time I had known him. His little talk to me a few days back only re enforced my growing suspicion that someone had either paid him off or threatened him, probably the same people who ransacked my place.

I wondered if I should call North, see if he's had his ear to the ground, but with Summers sniffing around and not liking my smell, I thought it would be wise not to. I wished that Johnnie Wraith had given me his number or address; so I could find out if he knew what the hell was going on. I felt like punching him in the face for all his superior, I-know-more-than-you-and-that's-the-way-it-is attitudes. I wanted to hunt Warren Worthington down and I wanted to hurt him, to humiliate him, show him what he was putting me through. I wanted to put the woman named Madelyn on a lie detector; find out what she was hiding….

I shrugged against the tightness welling in my chest, the rage rising. I had been through worse, hadn't I? I'd been down and out before, and I always worked something out. Momentary setbacks. I would fight through all this stuff and come out the other side.

I found a lodging house a couple of blocks away from my old apartment building, nestled away in an alley with a neon sign indicating it was open all hours. I knew what sorta place this was, but with my body screaming for sleep, I didn't like the chances of any grunting from the other rooms waking me up. I paid the sleepy looking young man at the reception desk for a week's worth rent, and he slapped down a set of keys in front of him, eyeing me like I was some exotic animal. "You lose your security deposit if the keys are not returned," He informed me with an air of authority. "Have a nice stay at the All Night Oasis."

I took the narrow flight of stairs up to the third floor, which was a dimly lit corridor of doors, a thick brown carpet absorbing my footsteps. The other good patrons of the Oasis were hard at it, fake moans and banging bouncing down the hallway, assaulting my tired ears. I fought the new looking key into the ancient lock, wrenched the difficult door open and stepped into my new room. The smell of stale sweat and cigarette smoke hit me in a sickening wave. I dumped my bag on the floor at the foot of the bed and sat heavily. The sounds of distant sirens and the growl of the city wafted through the window, which was opened only a crack, the sides painted over with crackling white paint. I fell back onto the too-soft mattress and fell into a dreamless sleep.

"Man, you just have a nose for trouble," Wraith said from the foot of the bed, jolting me awake. I sat upright and rubbed my eyes raw. Wraith was wearing a brown sports jacket which did not do a good job of hiding the shoulder holster underneath. He was studying Kwannon's sword, turning it over in his hands, then dropped it back onto the bed. "I spent a while trying to get a lock on you. At least you're learning to cover your steps better."

"Wraith, not that I don't appreciate your wake up call, but what the hell are you doing here?"

"Heard some bad shit was going down, Logan. I know your little meeting at Flanagan's did not go unnoticed. You and North re-connected pretty fast, huh?"

I threw off the damp sheets and snatched the shirt draped over the chair beside the bed. "I got evicted."

"Yeah, after they tossed your apartment. You're lucky you hid that little pig-sticker," He said, pointing to Kwannon's sword. "It's a pretty fine blade, man. Those things are expensive."

"What were they looking for?"

He fixed me with an amused look. "They would have shot you full of holes had you been there, but I reckon they were looking for information. You're smart enough to keep yourself clear of any of the clutter that most PI's do. You know… files, evidence, tapes…"

I was growing tired of his nonchalance. I pulled on my pants. "They scared the old lady across the hall half to death. I don't want that sort of crap going on around people who don't deserve it." I pulled on my jacket. "You got a ride, Wraith?"

He nodded. "Where are we going?"

"Xavier's school. You know it?"

He nodded, and I caught something in his eyes that I couldn't identify. "I know where it is."

"Let's get on the road then."

We headed down the stairs and I threw the keys back at the kid behind the counter. When he returned my security deposit we walked out onto the street and jumped into Wraith's car, which was a pretty snazzy ride compared to my ol' tin can. He drove too fast, which was fine by me. I cracked the window open so the wind messed my hair. The city sped by like a procession of giants. "So, why Xavier's?" Wraith asked after a long silence that he seemed reluctant to break.

"I think he's involved in something. I just don't know what."

"How could he be involved in anything?" Wraith lit a cigarette and tossed his match out the window. "As far we know, he's just a guy who hired you to find some files."

I sank into the soft leather of my seat, folding my arms over my chest. "Something just hasn't sat right with me ever since I took the case on. Like he wasn't being completely square with me. Those files mean a lot more to him than he said. That much is obvious."

Wraith mulled this over, and shot a glance at me. "So what does this have to do with the matter at hand? If you haven't noticed, you've got guys willing to kill you bursting into your home, watching you all the time, and they are closing in on you, and all you can worry about is this Xavier case?"

"Look, I accepted his case before all of this crap started. It's been like a boulder tied to my feet ever since, and I'd rather cut it loose while I have the chance."

Wraith drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Fair enough, then."

We swung into Xavier's pebbled driveway about fifteen minutes later. My nerves were too raw to explain to Wraith why my gut was telling me I should come here; simple fact is, everyone connected to this mess was lying their asses off to protect themselves. I'd had enough. We marched up to the huge double doors and I used the heavy brass knocker to signal my arrival. The Big Russian answered the door, looking from Wraith to me with confusion. "Mister Logan. We were not expecting you."

Wraith kept his eyes on the big boy as I spoke. We were playing good cop bad cop without even knowing it. "I know I don't have an appointment, but I really need to speak to your boss."

"Regarding?"

"The case he hired me to work. Now, I can stand on this doorstep and freeze my butt off trying to explain, or you could just let me in and I'll explain it straight to the boss man."

"Professor Xavier is with a class."

"We can wait," Wraith growled. "I'm sure the good professor will want to talk to us."