“Indeed. Mister Winter-Winter,” Max sighed. “If I’d known his, ah, connections the first time, I might not have taken the case. But here we are.”
I sipped Kool-aid. “Here we are.”
“Max!” Heloise called, “get the money up front!”
Max glanced over his shoulder and grimaced. “She handles the money,” he explained to me.
“Yeah,” I said. “About that.”
Max sat back in his seat in exasperation. “You’re about to tell me that you have power, not money.”
“Well—”
“Christ save me from good fights,” he muttered darkly.
“I can pay you a little,” I offered. “And Maya can probably scrape together a little something over time.”
“Pay me,” he said sarcastically, “instead of you spending your money helping refugees whose homes were destroyed and children whose parents can’t afford supplemental education in that castle of yours.”
I was impressed. Max really did have more than the usual amount of clue as to what was going on in Chicago.
“I’d owe you a favor,” I said.
Max arched an eyebrow at me, his gaze sharp. “I’m not sure being owed a favor by you is any safer than being in an inflammable building with you,” he told me.
“Maybe not,” I said.
“Have you been out there on the street much lately?” he asked me.
I shook my head.
“Lamar has. So have several good officers I know. Folk of your persuasion… well, let’s say that they aren’t in good odor since the ‘terrorist attack.’ It’s going to get ugly for your people. And it could get ugly for anyone close to them, too.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Scared people can do things they’d never do in normal times.”
“Do you think I’m scared people, Mister Dresden?”
“I think after the battle, it’s reasonable to be afraid.”
“It certainly is.” He glanced from me to my gear in the corner and back. Then he said, “Everything I hear about you says you fight the good fight when you can.”
“Everyone should,” I said.
Max sat back in his seat slowly, his eyes glittering. He took off his spectacles, withdrew a spotless white cloth from his waistcoat, and began polishing them with it, staring down at the spots on his hands as he did. After a long moment, he put the spectacles back on, folded the cloth neatly, and put it away.
“Yes,” he said, and for the first time he smiled at me. His teeth were small and very white. “We should.”
Chapter Twelve
The next evening, I showed up at the nameless son’s office with Maya and Maximillian Valerious in tow. Ms. Lapland, dressed in a grey knit outfit just a little too tight to be entirely professional, looked up as I came in and gave me a look that told me she wanted to grind my bones to make her bread.
“Oh,” I said. “Tripp Gregory must already be here, huh? Because I know how much you like me.”
She glared while smiling at me. “Mister Inverno and Mister Gregory are waiting for you in the meeting room.”
Max was dressed in a linen suit in a number of shades of beige with some light brown oxfords in place of his sandals. Maya looked good in a blue dress. I was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with a Death Star on it made of a Star Wars word cloud （mostly ‘I’ve Got a Bad Feeling About This’）， my leather duster, and carrying my staff.