"Looks like a map of city streets," said Delacroix. "These black lines run at right angles, like a grid, but warped in places like a topographic grid. Maybe it's a map of San Francisco."
Leej sipped the brandy and turned the map slightly."Then what are the red lines, and the dots and bigger circles?"
"I don't know, Bobby, maybe the dots are buildings..banks, or armories, or something...maybe the circles are ...I don't know...bigger buildings."
"The red lines and these heiroglyphic symbols, then. The lines seem to link the dots and circles." Leej turned the sheets another 90 degrees.
"Where did your half of the map come from, Bob?"
"A few years ago I was in Baltimore staying at a hotel outside the city. Some distance from my room was a Tavern frequented by local merchants, travelling freight haulers, and distinguished by a remarkable paucity of gambling men. I became a regular participant in the poker games there, and on acertain night I decided to stay late, reap a very large pot, and make my way home near midnight. i had noticed two men standing at the bar earlier. One fellow was a short, stocky, mustachioed man who was discreetly observing the other, a tall rather cadaverous individual in a cape and bowler hat. Both men had been drinking through the night, and both had left some time before the game had broken up.
I was cautiously making my way back to my room with one hand on my pistol, half expecting some disgruntled poker player to attempt to rob me of my winnings, when I saw a movement in the shadows and heard a low moan. Producing my revolver, I advanced into the gloom, nearly stumbling over the body of the short man. He had been stabbed several times in the chest, but his eyes were open, and he tried to speak to me. 'My watch pocket' was what I thought he said. Reaching into this pocket, I found a badge. The man was a Pinkerton Agent. With a struggle, helifted his left arm and opened a bloody hand. Inside was clutched this bloody paper. I took it from him as he pleaded 'they are coming. They have to be stopped.'
I took the paper and cut a fast trail to my room. Late that night, I was awakened by a sound. As I lay listening, I determined that the sound was the slow turning of the doorknob, and the stress of the door against its lock as great weight was placed against it. In silence, I dressed, gathered my bag, and made my way through the window and into the street.
In the remaining years, that night has never been far from my mind, and I have lived the life of a hunted man, Charlie. I don't know who they are, but I know they are evil and would have killed me as they several times attempted. And I know that this map holds the key to their identity. And I know that, in this happy carnival where all seems pleasure and gaeity, they have gathered to perpetrate their awful plan."
Delacroix sat back in his chair, taking another cigar from the box."And I suppose, "Charles said,"that its too late for me to excuse myself from this little soiree." Leej snapped a match into fire and lit Delacroix' cigar, then his own, and said "of course. You're already in too deep."
Delacroix' eyes lit up. "Good. Let's get back to the map." Charles eyed the lines again, then suddenly said "Casseiopia." Leej's eyebrows were lifted in puzzlement. "This shape. It looks like the constellation Casseiopia." Leej peered at the shape through the cigar smoke, then walked quickly outside.
Above, the sky was freckled with stars from horizon to horizon. Charles followed, pointing to a brightcluster. "Casseiopia!" Leej exhaled smoke and said softly "I'll be damned."