Moe followed her gaze. “You don’t need to see this, young lady. An unfortunate side of the business, I’m afraid. Benny, why don’t you escort her back to the car?”
“Sure thing, Uncle.” He gently placed a hand on Natasha’s shoulder.
Her eyes were wide as she was led away. I averted my gaze, surprised at the guilt I felt. I couldn’t help but think she saw me in a different light since observing me in my element. For the first time she saw the other side of my world. A world much uglier than the one she was used to.
Moe watched them leave. “The girl. She looks familiar.”
“Her name’s Natasha Luzzatti.”
“Ah, yes. Luzzatti’s daughter. All grown up now. I met Luzzatti once.”
“Wouldn’t have guessed.”
“You’d be surprised who I’ve gotten to know in this business. I tried to buy his apartments in a real estate deal some years ago. He wouldn’t budge. Good man. Stubborn as hell, but a good man. His daughter was just a little girl then.” His expression softened. “They grow up so fast.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Moe gave me a shrewd glance. “Let me guess. You’re keeping her close so she stays out of harm’s way.”
I nodded.
“It never works. Trust me, I know. The best thing you can do for a girl like that is let her go, Mick. Don’t let her be the next Sophia Flacco. She’s already lost enough. Capeesh?”
“I hear you, Flacco.”
Electra sidled over, a smile teasing her lips. “I just had the grandest idea.”
Nate smirked and slid a finger across his golden schnozzle. “Oh, I gotta hear this. Spit it out.”
“If this killer is after all of Mick’s sexual partners, why don’t we give her one to target?”
I froze. “Who?”
She gazed at me from under her eyelashes. “Let’s not be coy, Mick. What’s the matter, afraid you can’t handle me?”
I took a careful step back. “I’m just not sure that’s a good idea, Electra. Putting you at risk like that? There’s got to be a better way.”
Moe frowned in thought. “Electra might have a point, Mick. This killer dame of yours must be jacked into the surveillance network. She has no problem finding her targets and can black out every camera in the area. So we know she likes to watch. Why not give her something to see and maybe get the jump on her at the same time?”
I threw up my hands. “Because Electra might get whacked, is why. Natalie is trained for assassination by the Secret Service, and let’s not forget the other four members of her crew that we don’t even know about yet. It’s too risky. I don’t want to be responsible for any more women dying on my watch.”
No-Nose Nate grinned. “Electra can handle herself. I’d bet on her against any of your Service agents. Any day. You’d be surprised how good she is.” He glanced at her. “You sure you’re up to it?”
“You don’t have to ask.” She looked at me like a cat at a cornered mouse. “If Mick can step to the plate, that is.”
“Sister, I can always step to the plate.” My heart sank behind my brave words. “You just give me the where and when, and I’ll be there.”
She slid her tongue over her glossy lips. “Le Chat Noir. Meet me there at ten tonight.” I barely managed not to flinch when she raised her hand to stroke my cheek.
“Make sure not to shave. I like a little stubble on my men.” She gave my cheek a last pat before sauntering away.
Moe’s smile was apologetic. “My cousin is a bit hot-blooded. Focosa, is what my Nonna would say. You’re a lucky man, Mick. Hope you can handle your business.” His chuckle raised the hairs on the back of my neck.
“You’re ok with putting her at risk like this? I’m not shooting bunk when I tell you these people are pros, Flacco.”
“The take is worth the risk.” Moe frowned, and for a moment looked like a weary old man. I saw the toll the ordeal took on him, the burden of appearing fearless and decisive when his house of cards was on the verge of collapse. “If we can flush these rubes out then we can finally get a shot at them. Electra knows what she’s doing.”
“Ok, Flacco. I hope it pays off.”
His expression turned grim when he looked at Nelson. The poor sap’s eyes were glazed as he stared at the ground. Bloody drool glistened from his bottom lip.
“My boys can mop this up, Mick. I don’t think he’s got anything worth more of our time.”
I took a hard look at Nelson. “This is my mess, Flacco. I’ll clean up after myself if you don’t mind.”
“Suit yourself.” He gestured to his boys. “Clear out. Let’s give Mick a moment.”
No-Nose pulled a snub-nose from his jacket and handed it to me. “This heater is clean. You can drop it when you’re through.”
The gleaming wheelers pulled out as the Borgata took a powder. I was alone with Nelson, the unluckiest man alive at the moment. The realization took a moment to dawn on him. He lifted his swollen, discolored face as I cut the duct tape that bound his hands together. His expression was resigned, that of a man ready to take the express train to whatever lies on the other side.
I pulled out my flask. “Drink?”
He nodded, accepting it with trembling, badly damaged fingers. The booze went down fast and hard until he coughed from the burn.
I patted him on the back. “Take it slow, Mack. Don’t wanna waste it, do you?”
The whiskey dribbled down his chin as he took another swallow. “You gonna hurt me some more?”
I pulled out my deck of smokes. “Nope. Don’t wanna add any more injury to the insult.”
“You gonna kill me?” The question sounded hopeful.
“Not my choice to make, Nelson. Smoke?”
He nodded. I placed the gasper between his lips and lit it, then one for myself. We smoked in silence, listening to the West River lap against the docks outside.
I finally flicked my gasper to the darker side of the warehouse. “Funny how these things work. We never met until now, yet here we are. Victims of time and chance. I got a hunch you might want some last words. Time to spill before the lights go out.”
He stared at me without comprehension. “What…whaddya talking about?”
“I know you’re holding on to something, Nelson. But whatever misguided loyalty or fear that’s keeping you clammed up doesn’t amount to anything at this point. You’re at the end of the line. Your people fed you to the lions. So you might as well tip your mitts and toss out that last card.”
“I don’t know what–”
“Where’s Natalie?”
“I told you–I don’t know.”
“But you know something.”
His shoulders sagged. “Yeah. I know something.”
I gestured with the borrowed pistol. “Keep talking.”
“There’s only so many ways to get into this Haven. Natalie was smuggled in with a cargo shipment.”
“What kind of cargo?”
His voice turned bitter. “The illegal kind. Someone paid top dollar and greased enough palms to keep it off the books. I never got a name. But find out who bankrolled the shipment and you’re one step closer to finding those bastards.”
I opened the cylinder on the snub and emptied the slugs in my hand. “I appreciate you confiding in me, Nelson. That’s why I’m giving you a choice. There’s the hard way: I can let you walk. Try your luck on getting the hell outta here. Now I’m sure Flacco left a couple of lugs to watch and see how things turn out. He might like me, but he can’t afford to trust me. You don’t look like you can outrun a dead dog in the shape you’re in, but who knows? Might be your lucky day. ‘Course if they nab you, it’s gonna be a while before you earn your cement shoes, catch my drift?”
He gave a resigned shake of his head. “Leg’s…busted. No chance.”
I placed a single bullet back in the cylinder and snapped it in place. “That brings us to the easy way.” I offered him the heater.
He hesitated, staring up in my
face. “How do you know…I won’t just shoot you instead?”
I looked him in the eye. “I’ve been plugged by better than you, Ace. You wanna be a legend, better make sure the shot counts. But I think you can come up with a better use for that thing.”
His face crumpled when he took the pistol. Tears slid down his cheeks. “What does it feel like, Mick?”
“What does what feel like?”
He lifted his head. “To be free of them. Be your own man.”
I hesitated. “Still trying to figure it out.”
I tilted my Bogart over my eyes and turned toward the door. Nelson’s heavy breathing and muted sobs followed me as I strode away. I didn’t get ten steps before a clap of thunder boomed overly loud in the empty warehouse.
I didn’t bother looking back.
James and Henry loitered outside, smoking in the rain. Henry nodded. “It’s done?”
“Yeah.”
“All right. We’ll take care of the rest.” They dug into the trunk of their ride and emerged with cleavers and hacksaws before entering the warehouse with docile faces. Just another day on the job for them.
I kept walking.
Benny and Natasha waited outside where Maxine was parked in the cracked and broken empty lot. Benny held a protective umbrella over Natasha’s head to shield her from the light drizzle. The hazy backdrop of massive city structures towered in the distance behind them. Sea gulls screeched and cackled above as they glided over the nearby water on artificial winds. I wondered if they were real or just automatons designed after the genuine article. In the end I guess it didn’t matter. Synthetics become the new reality when you don’t have a choice in the matter.
I jerked my chin at Benny. “Still hanging out?”
He nodded. “My uncle said he was gonna work some things out on his end. I told him I’d stick it out with you and see this thing through.”
“Bet Flacco liked that.”
“He said…” Benny’s face reddened. “He said he was proud of me.”
I clapped him on his meaty neck. “We’ll make a Mafioso out of you yet, kid. Let’s go. Gotta check on Flask and Angel, then follow up on some leads.”
Natasha laid a hand on the crook of my arm. “What happened to that man in there, Mick?”
“Don’t waste your pity on a skel like that, Natasha. He sold out lives for a living. He’s just as responsible for Sophia and Desiree as the killer is, and he had it coming.”
Her grip tightened. “Did you kill him?”
I looked at her. “I didn’t kill him, Natasha. Hope that makes you sleep better at night.”
“Then what happened?”
I stared at the murky silhouette of the city. “He took the easy way out.”
Chapter 15: Letting Go
Lambrou’s Diner was a roadside throwback, designed after better times when tradition and culture meant something. Donny Lambrou had heard stories from his folks about their heritage and the lifestyle of Greek-American diner ownership. Those days had long since been buried in the rubble of the Cataclysm, but Donny enjoyed the stories and decided to pay them tribute in the form of his own 24-hour diner on the edge of Downtown. It was styled in traditional New York fashion, complete with neon lights on the outside and a cozy, relaxed atmosphere inside. The babble of blended conversations mixed with clattering dishes and silverware was a type of music in its own way. Lambrou’s was always crowded, but you didn’t need a reservation if you knew people.
I knew people.
Natasha and I sat in a strategic corner booth where I could keep an eye on the exits in case things got hairy. Benny nursed a drink at the bar, throwing enough shifty glances to make the nearby patrons nervous. The kid wasn’t exactly made for blending in, but that was ok. He had a reason for being a bit on the jumpy side. We were in the exact diner where Flask and Angel had been targeted less than an hour earlier. I figured Natalie wouldn’t have expected me to circle back to the scene, which was why I was there.
The fact that the joint wasn't flooded with coppers and distressed patrons told me no fireworks had gone off. Which meant Flask and Angel must’ve made a clean sneak and gotten out in time. That didn’t mean Angel wasn’t still a target. I just hoped Flask had an airtight lay where he could stash Angel until things blew over.
“Better get a chew while you can, sweetheart. Might not get a chance later.”
Natasha traced a finger around the rim of her glass of lemon water. “I’m just not hungry, Mick. I don’t see how you can eat at a time like this.”
“Gotta keep my strength up.” I dug into my moussaka. The layers of tender lamb mince, eggplant slices and savory custard topping really hit the spot. I gestured with my fork. “You should try the pastitsio. It’s to die for.” I took a frothy sip of ice-cold brew.
Natasha’s eyes met mine. It was a different gaze than I was used to. More weighing, more critical than I had seen before. I didn’t like the feeling that every new revelation drove us further apart.
“When does it end?”
I sighed and set my beer down. “It won’t be long, Natasha. Flask should be here any minute. We’ll recoup and move on to the next lead.”
“And then what?”
I felt a stab of irritation at her insistent tone. I smothered it with another forkful of moussaka. “Then we work at taking out Natalie’s crew. I got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
“I meant after that. Say you manage to come out of this in one piece. What then?”
The fork paused halfway to my mouth. “Dunno. I don’t tend to think that far ahead. All I know is now. What’s happening in the moment. Like this moussaka.” I closed my eyes as I chewed. “Yum.”
Natasha placed her chin on her fist. “How can you live like this, Mick? Doesn’t it get old after a while?”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve been in and out of one jam after another ever since I was fished out of the river. Only time I got a few moments to kick back was–” I paused and locked gazes with her. “You know–with your folks.”
Her eyes drifted to the tabletop. “Those were the days, right?”
“They were.”
“All that’s over now. I finally can face it. I’m coping with it. It’s just all so…strange.”
“How’s that?”
She toyed with her napkin, looking almost shy. “I don’t know anyone but you, Mick. My parents didn’t trust many people. Father laughed and spoke to all his tenants, but you were the only man he invited to the table. My mother had a few friends, ladies she mostly spoke to on the phone. I had no friends my own age growing up. So when my parents were killed…there was only you.”
“Yeah. A down-and-out amnesiac with a knack for shooting trouble. Lucky you.”
Her smile brightened the melancholy for a brief moment. “You say that as a joke, but you’re right. I was lucky. Lucky to have someone like you watch over me. You took care of me when I had nothing and I’ll always love you for that.”
“Aw, I’m getting misty-eyed over here. You don’t owe me anything, Natasha. You know that.”
“It’s just I’ve had time to think things over. Clear my head. I want to do things, Mick. I want to be somebody.” Her voice turned wistful, and for a moment she was the innocent dreamer I knew in the old days. “I want to make friends. Get out and see some things.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What, you haven’t seen enough already?”
She laughed and swatted my hand. “You know what I mean. Places without any dead bodies or bullets flying around.”
“Yeah, I know. I think you should. Get out, I mean. Socialize, see some finer scenery. What’s in your way?”
I realized the truth as soon as the words came out. Her averted gaze told me the whole story. I slowly nodded.
“I get the picture. Really, I do. It’s me, isn’t it?”
Her eyes glistened. “Look, Mick–”
“It’s ok. Honest, it is. I haven’t been thinking things through. Haven’t been looking from you
r perspective.”
“I didn’t know. Or maybe I did and I didn’t want to think about it. People talk about you, Mick. The tenants at the Luzzatti talk about what you did for me and my folks. How you took on the Mob all by yourself. They like you. But at the same time they’re afraid of you, too. I didn’t understand why at first.” She paused to dab the corner of her eye with the handkerchief. “I do now.”
“Because of what you’ve seen.”
She nodded. “You told me once when people have no one else to turn to, they give you a call. I finally know what that means. You know how things work. How to be cold and mean as the people you take down. It’s how you survive. It’s who you are. And I can’t get in the way of that.”
My heart took a tumble to the bottom of my feet. Natasha’s words were an echo of what Esmeralda had told me earlier. It was like looking in two different mirrors. The one I saw was just a hazy image free for interpretation. The reflection they saw was my true self, the one I didn’t want to look at.
“I’m sorry, Natasha.”
She shook her head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I love you, Mick. I always will. I just can’t expect you to change into someone you’re not. We both know the longer I stick around, the greater my chances of being used as a hostage or winding up another corpse to haunt you.”
She reached out and placed her hand over mine as she got up from the booth. “It’s time for me to go.”
I took a wary look around as I stood with her. “You mean now? It’s not safe. Not so long as Natalie and her crew are killing women connected to me.”
“Women intimately connected to you. I’m not one of those targets, Mick.” She forced a smile.
“Still too risky. There’s no telling what might–”
“Mick.” She placed her hand on my shoulder. “You have to let go. You can’t do this and try to protect me at the same time. You do what you have to. I’ll take care of myself. I promise.” She leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. “Check in with me when this is over. Goodbye, Mick.”
For once I couldn’t think of a word to say.
I watched her walk away. My muscles tensed, my heart pounded as I forced myself to sit back in the booth. Her slender frame never looked so fragile as in that moment. I expected to hear the shot, hear the screams of frightened patrons, see her recoil from the force of the slug, run to catch her limp body as she fell.
The Troubleshooter: The Most Dangerous Dame Page 16
