Chapter 6: The Deuce

At seven the bedroom doors unlocked, and I went out on the balcony and looked at the strip under the Wall.

The 7 was dark.

Sometime in the night the men in black masks had come through the service hall and taken him.

The housekeeping door was shut, and the oak bench was back where it belonged.

Six was standing at the rail outside his room.

He looked at the strip, and then at me, and neither of us said anything.

I'd purged camera 31 six years ago because my supervisor told me to, and because Leo was in the cardiac unit on the Marquee's insurance.

That was the only reason I'd ever been able to give myself.

Downstairs Twenty-One was eating eggs at the counter.

He looked rested.

I walked up to the other side of the counter in front of everybody.

"You held the door on him," I said.

The whole kitchen went quiet.

Twenty-One chewed and swallowed.

"I was in my bed when the lights came on," he said. "Same as you, sweetheart."

"I heard you through the wall. 'Should've stayed with your team, big man.'"

He shrugged.

"I hear things in walls too. Old building."

"And you took Five's card at lunch."

"Search me," he said, and spread his arms wide. "Go ahead. Ask the house."

His right hand drifted down to his left and turned the gold ring on his pinkie.

I'd watched that hand on camera for ten years.

He touched that ring every time he was dealt a bad hand.

"Hey," One said gently, and stepped between us with his hands up. "Hey. We're all scared. Nobody in this kitchen killed anybody."