The bodyguard sank back into his chair, muttering something I was just as glad I didn’t hear, but his hand came out of his coat empty and stayed in sight.
“So what do we do now. Hot Stuff?” Massha sighed.
“The only thing I can think of is to try to locate those witnesses before the execution date,” I said. “What I can’t figure is how to go about looking without getting half the town down on our necks.”
“What we really need is a bloodhound,” Guido grumbled.
“Say, that’s not a bad idea!” Vilhelm exclaimed, coming to life. “Maybe I can help you after all!”
“You got a bloodhound?” the bodyguard said, raising his eyebrows.
“Even better,” the vampire declared. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. The ones you need to get in touch with are the Woof Writers.”
I studied him-carefully to see if this were some kind of joke.
“The Woof Writers?” I repeated at last.
“Well, that’s what we in Blut call them behind their backs. Actually, they’re a husband-wife team of werewolves who are on a big crusade to raise sympathy for humans.”
“Werewolves,” I said carefully.
“Sure. We got all kinds here in Limbo. Anyway, if anyone in this dimension will be willing to stick their necks out for you, they’re the ones. They do their own thing and don’t really give a hang what any of the other locals think about it. Besides, werewolves are second to none when it comes to sniffing out a trail.”
“Werewolves.” I repeated.
Vilhelm cocked his head at me curiously.
“Am I imagining things, Skeeve, or didn’t you just say that?”