；　all　the　same。　He　might　keep　quiet　for　a　day　or　a　week；　continuing　to　calculate　the　odds　on　various　actions；　but　in　the　end　two　things　…　his　belief　in　his　connections　and　his　inability　to　walk　away　from　a　situation　where　he　saw　himself　as　the　loser　would　bine。　When　that　happened；　he　would　spill　his　guts。　We　had　perhaps　helped　to　save　Melly　Moores's　life　by　taking　John　to　her；　and　I　wouldn't　have　changed　that　（〃not　for　all　the　tea　in　China；〃　as　we　used　to　say　back　in　those　days）；　but　in　the　end　we　were　going　to　hit　the　canvas　and　the　ref　was　going　to　count　us　out。　Short　of　murder；　there　was　no　way　we　could　make　Percy　keep　his　end　of　the　bargain；　not　once　he　was　away　from　us　and　had　started　to　get　back　what　passed　for　his　guts。

I　took　a　little　sidelong　glance　at　Brutal　and　saw　he　knew　this；　too。　Which　didn't　surprise　me。　There　were　no　flies　on　Mrs。　Howell's　boy　Brutus；　never　had　been。　He　gave　me　a　tiny　shrug；　just　one　shoulder　lifting　an　inch　and　then　dropping；　but　it　was　enough。　So　what？　that　shrug　said。　What　else　is　there；　Paul？　We　did　what　we　had　to　do；　and　we　did　it　the　best　we　could。

Yes。　Results　hadn't　been　half…bad；　either。

Harry　undid　the　last　buckle　on　the　straitjacket。　Grimacing　with　disgust　and　rage；　Percy　pawed　it　off　and　let　it　drop　at　his　feet。　He　wouldn't　look　at　any　of　us；　not　directly。

〃Give　me　my　gun　and　my　baton；〃　he　said。　I　handed　them　over。　He　dropped　the　gun　into　its　holster　and　shoved　the　hickory　stick　into　its　custom　loop。