“Yes, I can see that.” Mooney was nodding slowly. “You’re doing a hell of a lot of thinking.”
Kerrigan took a slow deep breath. Then he said very quietly, “I’d like you and me to take a little walk.”
“Where?”
“To your room.”
“What for?” Mooney asked. “What’s in my room?”
“The water-color paintings,” Kerrigan said. He smiled dimly and added, “Or maybe there’s no paintings at all. Maybe there’s just a bed. I’d like to have a look and make sure.”
Mooney’s face was blank. “You’re checking on me?”
“Sure,” Kerrigan said, and he widened the smile.
For some moments Mooney didn’t move. Finally he shrugged and backed out of the alley and Kerrigan moved up beside him. They walked down Vernon Street toward Third. Near the corner of Third and Vernon they turned down another alley. It was very narrow and there were no lights in the windows of the wooden shacks. Mooney was walking slowly and Kerrigan followed him and watched him very carefully. Mooney’s shoulders were sort of hunched, his arms bent just a little and held away from his sides, and he seemed to be bracing himself for something.
“You there?” Mooney asked.