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And how else were they to survive down there in the Underground? The rich, Harry insisted, would happily pick their bones He did not pretend to be soive to the poor, but Jazz figured the same rules applied If she was to hide down beneath, she had to survive A little petty thievery froant and rich did not trouble her overmuch

And the way she'd been raised --weaned on paranoia, caution, and suspicion--had laid the groundwork for a life of thievery She'd learned to be stealthy and to blend in a crowd, and with her natural agility it alh her past had been the perfect preparation Jazz knew she shouldn't take pleasure in discovering a talent for steal-ing, but the thrill was undeniable

"Well, what's your haul, then?" Cadge asked

Jazz glanced around By now the mark would have noted the theft, but unless he'd done so quickly enough to follow Cadge, there would be no way they would be caught She plunged her hands into her pockets and drew out their contents In her left hand she held the man's wallet She hadn't checked to see howand it wasn't safe to do that here, but it felt thick with cash

In her right hand she held his dom, they hadn't any need for phones No one to call And it would be turned off bywhen they'd find a use for it, so when her fingers had brushed against it in the right-hand pocket of the man's jacket, she had liberated it

"Well done, you," Cadge said

His own hands were e the street with thened to work the lanced nervously at the entrance to the platfore nodded "Wait for the train"

Twoslowness un-til the train pulled into the station People were disgorged and others got aboard, and then it ruain In e led the way to the edge of the platfor to Stevie Sharpe, there were other ways to get to the unused plat-forms at Tottenhareat care, they picked their way along the side of the tracks, retrieved their torches fro they split off along a section of unused track The abandoned tunnel ran past the old platfor platfor it would take them back to Holborn station, and from there they could descend to one of the older, deeper stations that had sheltered air-raid refugees during the Blitz They would meet up with the others and make their way back to Deep Level Shelter 7-K, their sub-subterranean hoh her It was the first tie as ho to her She knew she had to hide, knew that if she ever tried to return to her real ho with truths and revelations she had no interest in ever learning But to think of the shelter as ho there forever, and that she could not do Silently, she proain

Ever since the e had yanked up her skirt, Jazz's heart had been racing, adrenaline puh her Now, at last, far away froan to lessen

And then she heard thein volu horn and then a sudden chorus of histles and lecherous howls so loud that Jazz felt surrounded

"Oh, Jesus," she whispered, and clapped her hands to her ears

Frantic, she whipped around, shining her torch into the shadows on both sides of the old track With the light shin-ing, she saw nothing at all, but when she swung the torch away, she saw spectral ies in the darkness left behind The piano player, the violinist, and the truh And the audience roared

Jazz spun and saw the They were dressed not in the thirties' garb of the spirits she'd encountered before but the clothing of an earlier era Still wartih

Alartie, and above her hung a ghostly chandelier

For a moment the whole room flickered and became a tavern full of lassat the front she could read the reversed let-tering of the name of the place --the Seven Tankards and Punch Bowl Then the moment passed, the tavern blurred, and the hter and those histles

Voices called out a name "Marie!"

"Marry me, Marie!"

"Get yer knickers off, Marie!"

But the voices weren't addressing Jazz She could see in the faces of that spectral audience --e Jazz turned just in tiestively onto the stage A ers down the s

"I didn't like you much before you joined the arot your khaki on"

The audience erupted with hoots and applause

Jazz fell to her knees and slapped her hands over her ears She squeezed her eyes closed tightly The sound of her own breathing filled her head, and her heart thundered in her chest

When she felt fingers on her shoulder, she screa away, she rose to a crouch, ready to flee Blinking, she saw that the apparitions had gone She had left her torch on the tracks a dozen feet away, and the light shone off into the darkness

Cadge stood staring at her, torch trained on her, his eyes ith concern

"Get that light out oftone she'd attempted

He lowered the torch, and they stood staring at each other in its diffused glow

"You hear the at hi? You heard that?"

Cadge h afraid to confess, but at last he nodded

"A song, this ti It's always different Almost always"

Torn between relief that she wasn't mad and astonish-ment at this confirmation, she stared at hilanced away, shifting nervously "Harry hears 'em, I think Just echoes, he says Echoes of old times But he told me never to mention it to the others They'll think I'm a nutter"

"Echoes," Jazz whispered Then she narrowed her eyes and studied hi "So, the way things would blur Once once I thought I saw a face"

Jazz sed and found her throat dry He ht have heard the phantohosts of old London that had manifested to her twice since her descent, but it was obvious Cadge could not see them the way she did

She didn't tell him that Not yet But she wondered about Harry If he heard them, maybe he saw them too

"So, echoes?" she said