Pretty Amazonia and her partner gawked at him in silence.
In that situation Jack felt exceptionally uncomfortable, his ears burned, and he was grateful when the Brick broke the hush.
“Bub, I don’t worry easy — even so, dunno ’bout PA, but yer scarin’ me.”
The woman was kinder. “So he’s more of a nerd than us.”
“A truckload more.”
“Speaking of which, what about you and your cars?”
“That’s a diff’rent kettle o’ fish.”
“Horses for courses,” PA muttered. “Moving right along, the Big O decided to make the Equalizers just such a group.”
“Ahh.”
“Ahh?” The woman laughed and now acted a little dismayed. “Don’t you want to know which four?”
Jack was wishing he could be anywhere but right here. The spotlight sizzled. “Sure. Which four?”
The Brick took this cue to hold up his right hand, displaying all the digits there. He appeared to enjoy using them to count.
“The Big O, PA here, me, an’ the Great White Hope — no real option with that last choice, sad t’say. Seniority carbuncle.”
“But inviting me in makes five.”
Pretty Amazonia shook her head. “No, learn to count — it recalibrates us to four. Remember, Sir Omphalos put his head through the giant ad.”
“Ah.” Sense. “Still, I don’t get everything. From what you’re saying, you were having a ball in spite of the crowd — it’s not like anything is serious here. Why institute a big cut in the line-up?”
“The Big O figured things’d changed.” The Brick stared at the floor.
“What things?”
“He lost faith in the outfit.”
Pretty Amazonia went over to her friend and placed a hand on his shoulder. They looked at each other for several seconds.
“He didn’t trust us no more.”
“Why?”
The Brick gazed Jack’s way with sad, puppy dog eyes. “Why? Easy —‘cos some whacko went an’ murdered one o’ our number.”
“The Aerialist,” Pretty Amazonia said, also hitting on despondence.
“A swell kid.”
“As was Little Nobody — yet I hear none of you jumping to defend his honour.”
That last comment came from above, the complete antithesis of the Brick’s crunchy, husky baritone. This was smooth and rich.
Jack followed up his colleagues’ Antarctic fix to view a man on the next level.
He was aged somewhere in his forties and had long, snow-coloured hair combed back straight, falling past the shoulders down his back. Precision-cut cream clothes with suede boots peeked out from beneath a radiant white cloak. While the notion of purity played across Jack’s mind, the man’s expression said this was less a cultivated, philanthropic fellow than an arrogant, self-opinionated Roman-emperor type.
“That probably has to do with the ignominy of Little Nobody’s demise,” Pretty Amazonia spoke up.
As Jack glanced over, she shrugged.
“Being stepped on in the middle of a fight with the Tick — well, we all knew it was a horrible accident.”
The newcomer pursed his lips. “Why, because the Brick did the stepping?”
Jack swivelled to look at the Brick, and then his huge feet. “You stepped on someone?”
“Two people,” the man said above.
“Hey.” The walking slab sat back and held up his right thumb and index finger to indicate a size about half a centimetre. “They were this big. We were in the middle of a bout with the League. How could I see the bastards?”
“What league?”
“The League of Unmitigated Rotters.” Once he knew he had their attention that white-clad man up on the second level started to move. He glided slowly on the stairs, and Jack could’ve sworn his legs didn’t move a single muscle all the way down.
“Ye ol’ el grando entrance,” he heard the Brick murmur. “Surprise, surprise.”
Jack was still reeling with the idiocy of a name like the League of Unmitigated Rotters, but kept his trap shut as the late arrival came over and bowed in curt fashion.
“Southern Cross,” he remarked, like he knew him.
“Yep.”
“I’m the Great White Hope.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
“Oh, indeed?” The man looked perky when he really ought to have been put out, given Jack’s tone. “Welcome to our humble sanctuary. I trust these two misfits have shown you around as well as passed on our rather peculiar rules?”
“All sorted,” the Brick said.
“Then let’s get down to it, shall we?” The Great White Hope pushed out his cape in dramatic fashion in order that it ballooned about him, away from his buttocks, while he took a chair. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming. I hope you brought your latte?”