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datatime: 2022-09-29 22:31:22 Author:NhuWGyxK

'Tonight, do you mean?'

Garrison turned his head to stare directly at the other, his lenses silver now in the twilight on the sea. 'Yes, I think so,' he finally said. 'Tonight...'

'Again, I'm not sure,' said Garrison, the frown back on his face. 'But I don't think I should want you to use it... fully.'

'Four men, a knife - I'm not sure. But your walking stick was in it, too. And I notice that you brought it with you.' The stick he mentioned was one that Koenig had used ever since Garrison first knew him. An ordinary stick with a crook, the German walked with it in the country and when exercising Suzy, flicked leaves with it, used it to gesture and to point things out. A casual, comfortable sort of stick, time and use had polished it black. But Garrison knew that his friend never left it lying around where idle hands might pick it up.

'I'll decide that,' Garrison answered, his patience wearing thin. 'Now please, what's the name of the place?'

'Richard,' Koenig patted his hand in an almost fatherly manner, 'did Thomas never explain why he employed me? I have this knack, you see - no, not an ESP facility that I'm aware of, just a knack - of sensing trouble before it strikes. Sometimes it lets me down, but not often. Thomas used to say that my prime function was to think bad thoughts before others thought them. Well, since first you told me about your dream I have been thinking bad thoughts. I am prepared-'

'Yes,' Koenig nodded, 'Arenzano. And the time?'

Marcello scratched his chin, shrugged, said, 'Oh, she called Arenzano.'

'Good,' said Garrison. 'What's the town called?'

'She holiday town,' Marcello rumbled. 'Little place. Not good for rich man. Savona better.'

'You're a remarkable and valuable man, Willy Koenig,' said Garrison slowly. 'And you're right - there was violence in my dream.'

Lovi shrugged. 'I have never put in there. A tourist trap, I think. A holiday place. But Marcello will know. He was born in these parts.' He put a hand to his mouth and bellowed, 'Hey, Marcello'

Koenig nodded. 'Then we must hope that the violence was not - will not be - too excessive. But did your dream tell you nothing of the timing of this ... trouble? Like where or when it will take place for instance?'

'She holiday town,' Marcello rumbled. 'Little place. Not good for rich man. Savona better.'

Koenig nodded. 'Then we must hope that the violence was not - will not be - too excessive. But did your dream tell you nothing of the timing of this ... trouble? Like where or when it will take place for instance?'

'Four men, a knife - I'm not sure. But your walking stick was in it, too. And I notice that you brought it with you.' The stick he mentioned was one that Koenig had used ever since Garrison first knew him. An ordinary stick with a crook, the German walked with it in the country and when exercising Suzy, flicked leaves with it, used it to gesture and to point things out. A casual, comfortable sort of stick, time and use had polished it black. But Garrison knew that his friend never left it lying around where idle hands might pick it up.

'I'll decide that,' Garrison answered, his patience wearing thin. 'Now please, what's the name of the place?'

'How much violence?'

Garrison shrugged, the gesture uncomfortable, his shoulders hardly moving at all. 'Oh, soon.'

A huge bearded man came out from the cabin, spoke briefly to Lovi, turned to Garrison and nodded in a friendly fashion. His hairy face split in a smile.

'Good,' said Garrison. 'What's the town called?'

For once Garrison was astonished. 'Now how in hell... ?'

'My stick, yes,' the other quietly answered. 'And did I use it, in your dream?'

'My stick, yes,' the other quietly answered. 'And did I use it, in your dream?'

When the captain went back to his duties and they were alone again, Garrison asked Koenig to sit beside him and said, 'Willy, there's something I still have to tell you.'

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