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But where to go?

Neddie knew the vast network of underground spaces beneath San Francisco as if he’d designed those secret places himself

For one thing, there were the for Prohibition Along with the speakeasies there had been brothels galore, eways

Many or even e rooms that went out under the sidewalks and sometimes under the streets, too

Even ships were buried don, and Neddie had seen theh and over them It was just fantastic He’d even been to a place under a saloon where sailors had been shanghaied, sold to merchant ships And then there was the entire Embarcadero, with its wide sidewalk built over a beach and a bay

It was all true

Neddie knehere these secret rooms connected and where the tunnels surfaced He had his own private runways and escape hatches under the buildings and paveraphy in his mind He’d done it himself

He was not as dued as he appeared to be in the files and folders about him, in the books that the shrinks wrote about their patients, labeled with nulassy eyes of the nurses who hardly thought of him at all

He tickled the feet of the

in the bunk next to his

“Mike-Mike-Mike”

“What, Neddie? What do you want now?”

“I can’t keep you safe froht, Mikey I have to fly”

“Go, Neddie I’ Loud Mike can take care of himself”

Yesssss