Asprin, Robert Lynn – Catwoman – Tiger Hunt (With Lynn Abbey)

“He’s one ugly dude,” she said, giving the camera back to Bonnie. “He’s got scars like the ones I put on the— Well, you’ll see them when you get the pictures developed.”

Zippers zipped and buckles buckled, Bonnie announced that she was ready to go home. They could look at the black-and-white pictures in an hour, when she had them developed. The color shots would have to wait until morning.

“Can you get home by yourself, kid? I’ll help you get down to the street, but, there’s someplace else I’ve got to go. . . .” 208 Broad off Tenth in an hour, but there was no need to tell Bonnie that.

Bonnie wilted, but she didn’t whine. “Yeah, I think I’ll take the bus, though. You’ll—you’ll tell Selina to get in touch with me, so I can show her the pictures?”

“Yeah, kid. C’mon.”

Chapter Thirteen

The night was warm, with a hint of summer’s humidity in the haze. Batman traveled crosstown the hard way—without using the streets or sidewalks, just especially with a heavy wooden box clamped under his arm.

He was careful with the box, but not as careful as he would have been if he hadn’t examined it thoroughly and made a few adjustments. Nothing that was visible on the surface—but then, what he’d changed had been well-hidden in the first place. The icon he’d received from the young man in the Russian bakery had been far too ordinary to be the major payment in a bartered-arms deal. The frame wasn’t gold, but thinly gilt wood. There had to be something more, so he’d subjected the icon to close scrutiny in the Batcave, and found the real icon, the seventeenth-century masterpiece, sleeping under a removable veneer.