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'
What
’
s
that
you
said
before
,
Jersey
,
about
this
Riviera
being
wired
?
’
'
A
mixture
of
cocaine
and
meperidine
,
yes
.
’
The
Armenian
went
back
to
the
conversation
he
was
having
with
the
Sanyo
.
'
Demerol
they
used
to
call
that
,
’
said
the
Finn
.
'
He
’
s
a
speedball
artist
.
Funny
class
of
people
you
’
re
mixing
with
,
Case
.
’
'
Never
mind
,
’
Case
said
,
turning
up
the
collar
of
his
jacket
,
'
we
’
ll
get
the
poor
fucker
a
new
pancreas
or
something
.
’
Once
they
entered
the
bazaar
,
the
Finn
brightened
noticeably
,
as
though
he
were
comforted
by
the
crowd
density
and
the
sense
of
enclosure
.
They
walked
with
the
Armenian
along
a
broad
concourse
,
beneath
soot
-
stained
sheets
of
plastic
and
green
-
painted
ironwork
out
of
the
age
of
steam
.
A
thousand
suspended
ads
writhed
and
flickered
.
'
Hey
,
Christ
,
’
the
Finn
said
,
taking
Case
’
s
arm
,
'
looka
that
.
’
He
pointed
.
'
It
’
s
a
horse
,
man
.
You
ever
see
a
horse
?
’
Case
glanced
at
the
embalmed
animal
and
shook
his
head
.
It
was
displayed
on
a
sort
of
pedestal
,
near
the
entrance
to
a
place
that
sold
birds
and
monkeys
.
The
thing
’
s
legs
had
been
worn
black
and
hairless
by
decades
of
passing
hands
.
'
Saw
one
in
Maryland
once
,
’
the
Finn
said
,
'
and
that
was
a
good
three
years
after
the
pandemic
.
There
’
s
Arabs
still
trying
to
code
’
em
up
from
the
DNA
,
but
they
always
croak
.
’
The
animal
’
s
brown
glass
eyes
seemed
to
follow
them
as
they
passed
.
Terzibashjian
led
them
into
a
cafe
near
the
core
of
the
market
,
a
low
-
ceilinged
room
that
looked
as
though
it
had
been
in
continuous
operation
for
centuries
.
Skinny
boys
in
soiled
white
coats
dodged
between
the
crowded
tables
,
balancing
steel
trays
with
bottles
of
Turk
-
Tuborg
and
tiny
glasses
of
tea
.
Case
bought
a
pack
of
Yeheyuans
from
a
vendor
by
the
door
.
The
Armenian
was
muttering
to
his
Sanyo
.
'
Come
,
’
he
said
,
'
he
is
moving
.
Each
night
he
rides
the
tunelto
the
bazaar
to
purchase
his
mixture
from
Ali
.
Your
woman
is
close
.
Come
.
’
