“You deaf?” Alfonso growled. “I said, Yeah. The smokin' fish. What about it?”
“What is it? What's it mean?”
Alfonso c****d his head, ogling me (quite a sight in full clown get-up), his cigar standing straight in the corner of his mouth. Again the gleam in his eyes. “I told you. I need your help, Blake,” the midget said. “I got a case. There's a lady, right here in the circus, is in danger.”
“What sort of danger?”
“How many sorts are there?”
“Brother,” I told him. “You'd be surprised.”
“We're talkin' about a lady needs help.”
“No, Alfonso. You're talking about a lady. I'm still talking about a guy, maybe Mickey, and a fish. Remember?”
“I remember. But I ain't tellin' you, or showin' you, one more damned thing until you agree to help me with my problem.”
“Okay! All right. I'll liste
