Ghosts of Punktown by Jeffrey Thomas Page A

guess is as good as mine.”
     
         “Is that what you meant? And so that’s why you called me?”
     
         “I thought you’d be interested to know.”
     
         “I’m sure Richard Colores would be interested to know, too – have you called him? Or is it only me you think is a criminal?”
     
         “I am not calling you a criminal, and yes, I was going to call Colores next. Don’t worry, I didn’t mention to the forcers or even my boss about you two coming to view the piece, and how intensely you both want it.”
     
         “So what if I want it intensely? That doesn’t make me so lacking in intelligence or sanity to do something like this!”
     
         But you are lacking in cash, Cynth thought. “Well, whoever did this would be as intensely interested in the piece as you two are. Look, calm down, I just wanted you to know. Maybe you’ll hear of something, someone else who might have wanted the statue enough to do this. In the meantime, like I say, I need to tell Colores, too.”
     
         “Yeah, you do that,” Mendeni said, apparently as shaken by Cynth’s not-so-subtle accusations as he was by news of the theft itself. “Keep me informed.” Then he signed off.
     
         Colores, when she called him next, was clearly stunned but maintained his composure. If he was aware of Cynth’s suspicions, he didn’t mention it or appear defensive or resentful. “This is terrible, just terrible – and so perplexing! Why only that item? I wonder if it could be a Raloom cult; there are still a few of them here and there on Oasis, you know. But I also know of a young man named Mendeni, at P.U., who very much wants that figure, too. And I happen to know his family were Raloom worshipers going way back. You might want to –”
     
         “I know Mr. Mendeni,” Cynth broke in.
     
         “Ahh. Well, if you know him, then I need say no more. But I hope you mentioned him to the authorities, so they might talk to him.”
     
         Cynth didn’t say whether she had or hadn’t. All she would say was, “I’ll let you know if I hear anything. Please do the same, Mr. Colores.”
     
         “Yes, yes,” he said, so preoccupied with worry now that he forgot to remind her to call him Chard.
     
    *     *     *
     
         Cynth wouldn’t have answered the call from Simon were it not for what he said. He seemed shocked to see her face come on his own screen. “What are you saying, Simon?”
     
         “Well, so it speaks at last.”
     
         “I asked you what you’re saying.”
     
         “And I ask you, what was the idea of having me come to Punktown? You can’t really be living in that dump. I should have known from the outside before I even went in, which was stupid of me – I could have been mugged or killed. But maybe that was your intention, huh?”
     
         “Will you please tell me what the hell you’re going on about, Simon?”
     
         “About the text message you sent me, damn it! Asking me to bring your stuff to your new apartment.” He gave the address. He even gave the apartment number: 933.
     
         “Oh my God,” Cynth said under her breath. She fumbled with her thoughts. “You didn’t go in? Inside 933?”
     
         “I rode up the elevator, looked into the hallway, and turned right around again. That is, I tried to ride back down, but the elevator wouldn’t even work again. It almost caught my arm in the doors! It was a joke, you sending me there, wasn’t it? A cruel joke?”
     
         “It was a prank, sort of, but not by me.”
     
         “Who, then? Do you have a new boyfriend? Someone trying to do me harm?”
     
         “Someone who thinks they’re looking out for me,” she muttered. “Are you still in Punktown now?”
     
         “Yes!”
     
         “Don’t go back to that apartment again. You’re right – it isn’t safe there.”
     
    *