[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
"I have it now. I'm the top singer in a top nightclub and I'm on a local
radio broadcast once a week. Slick makes sure I meet the right people
and I keep him happy. When he gets tired of me I'll use those contacts
to move up in the business."
"But are you happy?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Is that why you were working that slot machine so grimly the other
night?"
"That was just boredom. Even this place gets boring. I don't like all
the people here and I get tired of being stared at, but Slick likes me
to mingle. He likes to show me off."
"But he doesn't like you to get too friendly."
"At least with the wrong people. But sometimes it's good, it's really
good, when I'm on stage and the spotlight hits me and the music comes
up--that's what I really want. That makes me feel so alive and I don't
care what I have to do as long as I can stay there and sing."
"He's in a dangerous business. What would you do if something did happen
to Slick?"
"There are always others like him, and he's not so bad. My first
boyfriend used to hit. Slick likes to roughhouse, but at least he
doesn't hit me. Then there's the other owner of the club"-she went very
still--"but I'd never go to him for anything."
"Who's he?"
"Slick didn't tell you? He's the fat poker player, Lucky Lebredo."
"Colorful."
"Just don't get in his way. Slick can be mean, but Lucky is worse, and
he's a lot smarter. He's like some big spider, always watching things."
"He watches you?"
"What do you think? He hasn't laid a hand on me yet, and I don't plan on
ever giving him the chance. I think he and Slick have some sort of
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
understanding about me."
"Nice guys."
"You said it."
"Do they have an understanding about Gordy as well--about who he really
works for?"
"Slick doesn't know about that and neither should I, but sometimes you
overhear things."
"Like what?"
"I just caught the end of it, but Gordy and Lebredo were having an
argument, or something pretty close to it. Lebredo asked him if he were
planning to be awkward in the same way Mr. Huberman had been awkward,
and then Gordy backed down, and I've never known him to do that with
anyone before. Even Slick knows where to draw the line with Gordy."
I remembered the Huberman scandal; it had been the nine-day wonder
tabloid editors dream about. Someone had thoughtfully provided them with
some especially lurid evidence of Huberman's romance with a knockout of
a blond who was not his wife. Tame enough stuff, it happened often
enough, but not always to senior state senators. The real lid came off
when the general public was made aware of the true sex of the blond.
Huberman was found on the floor of his office with the muzzle of the gun
still in his mouth and the back of his skull blown off.
"Does Gordy like girls?"
"Sure, he does. I see what you're getting at, but that's not it.
Lebredo's got something else on him."
"Maybe it's time you left this place."
"Not now, but soon. I'll leave when I'm ready."
"But-"
Her eyes snapped. "Don't go all protective on me, I can take care of
myself."
"Okay, I can see that." She was right, it was none of my business.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Mrs. Smythe didn't raise no dummy."
"I'm not arguing."
She took me at my word and calmed down. "You going to tell me your life
story now?"
"Not tonight."
Her hand went to her throat. "But I want to know about what you did. Is
it because you're really different, or that you know something new that
I never heard of till now?''
"Yes," I chuckled.
"To both? Don't be a kidder."
"I'm not."
"Then what's this about?"
"You ever hear the one about the one-legged jockey?"
"Yeah"
"Well, I kinda have the same thing. It's a sort of condition--"
The sharp cough of the gun was the only warning we got.
Preoccupied with each other, we hadn't heard his approach in the other
room or noticed the light under the door. Perhaps he'd come to check on
Bobbi after she'd missed her cue, and then heard us talking. The second
after the bullet blew off the lock, he kicked the door open and lurched
into the room like a boulder coming down the hill, or maybe I should say
mountain. It was Gordy, playing the watchdog for his boss.
He didn't know me in the dim light spilling from Morelli's room, but I
was a man in a place where I shouldn't be and that was enough of an
excuse for him to break things up. His gun was already up and aimed. I
had barely gotten to my feet. I half expected the impact of a bullet,
but he thankfully restrained himself and didn't fire again. Bobbi's
breath caught in her throat, but she held back the scream. The room was
dead quiet except for the squeaking hinges as the door swung a little in
the aftershock of its sudden opening.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
I raised my hands slowly, uncurling the fingers, tore my eyes from the
silencer-encased gun barrel, and stared hard at his face. All his
attention was on me. Good, I wanted him to ignore Bobbi altogether. A
few seconds had passed, and I listened for the arrival of
reinforcements, but none came. There was a chance for jumping him then.
It was possible despite the distance between us, but there was also a
big, bad chance of Bobbi picking up a stray bullet, so that was out.
He finally spoke. "Walk over here, pretty boy."
Better, he wanted me out of the room. I held his eyes with my own and
moved slowly, hoping Bobbi would know enough to stay where she was. I
didn't speak or look at her; the situation was tenuous enough, and I
wanted Gordy to concentrate on me alone. For each step I took forward he
backed up into the light of Morelli's bedroom. Bad. I wanted it dark.
Pretending to squint, I kept my hands in front of my face. This made it
harder to watch his movements, but by now I'd cleared the door and Bobbi
was safely out of the line of fire.
He sensed I was planning something. The angle of the gun shifted
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]