Выбрать главу

Coultaine had also covered their tracks by arranging for Ayliss to go to Cabo San Lucas for a week’s fly-fishing. ‘Some old favours owed between us — don’t even ask the hows and whys. All you need to be assured of is that if anyone checks on Ayliss down in Vallarta, according to his staff he’s simply away for the week. Where, they don’t know — they weren’t told.’

That evening, Morvaun went out to see Alaysha at Pinkies — the only way they could think of safely getting a message to her. Jac surmised that there wasn’t nearly enough for the NOPD to hold her for any length of time, let alone charge her with an accomplice to murder rap.

As she leant close in the middle of a dance, Morvaun whispered in one ear, ‘Jac wants to see you. I know where he is.’

A beat’s pause, then she resumed quickly in case Security thought that Ol’ Man River had just made an inappropriate suggestion. And in the next couple of lean-ins, she got the rest of the details.

A rare treat for Morvaun, Jac reflected; hoping, that is, his heart held out. Part payment for helping out, along with 200 bucks Jac gave him towards a car service and a new paint-job.

‘What, yo’ don’t like the pink and blue?’

Jac smiled dryly and shook his head, not sure if Morvaun was serious. Not sure of anything any more. Two-tone: more or less mirrored his life for the next week.

‘You should have told me.’

‘I tried, Jac. I tried.’

‘When?’

‘That same night Gerry came knocking on my door while you were there.’

Jac shook his head incredulously. ‘What, when the knock came? Oh, that must be Gerry — I just remembered there’s something I forgot to tell Jac. Or when he shouted through the door about your sordid little secret together?’

Alaysha’s hands clenched in exasperation. The struggle for clarity. ‘No, Jac… before. I tried — believe me. But you were too caught up in your own little story about that Archie Teale and your father dying.’ As she saw him flinch, realizing how trivial she’d made it sound, she reached out and gently touched his arm. ‘Sorry, Jac… I didn’t mean it like that. But I did try to tell you then. Just felt like the right time, you know… pouring hearts out to each other time. Probably the first time between us that it had felt right to…’ She cast her eyes down for a second, biting at her bottom lip, ‘… to share a secret like that.’

He nodded with a tight-lipped grimace, starting to understand. She needn’t have come here, he reminded himself. She could have just stayed away, felt that it was just too awkward to explain. Left him wondering. ‘I know. I’m sorry too…’ though he had to pause then to think what for. ‘…For being too hasty.’

All she’d said so far was that she and Gerry had conspired to rob someone that they shouldn’t, and now it was coming back to haunt her — and he’d started putting her on the rack. ‘You said rob someone that you shouldn’t have. What, some defenceless old lady or friend or relative, maybe?’

‘No.’ Alaysha shook her head. ‘I didn’t mean shouldn’t from a moral standpoint; it’s because of the risk involved if we ever got found out. How much our necks would be on the line.’ Alaysha looked down again briefly, swallowing. ‘It was Carmen Malastra we robbed. That’s why we shouldn’t have done it.’

Malastra. New Orleans biggest, most-feared mobster. The name ran a shiver down most spines. ‘Oh, I see.’ All he could think of saying immediately, his head suddenly feeling hot and pressured.

Seeing the shock on Jac’s face, she smiled awkwardly, shrugging. ‘From a moral point of view, my slate’s completely clean. In fact it was that that made me do it, in a moment of weakness, or madness, or both — my mother’s illness.’ She stroked absently at one thigh for a second. ‘And, you see, that’s why it felt right to tell you at that moment… when you were talking about your father.’

Jac just nodded, closing his eyes for a second in understanding, but didn’t say anything. He could see that this was difficult for her to talk about, the right words elusive, hanging by slim threads between them, and if he spoke they might break, the chain of thought lost and her perhaps not able to get it back in quite the same way again. The shadows in her eyes shifted rapidly for a few seconds more before finally settling and focusing, and she started to explain.

Gerry had been telling her for a while about the Bay-Tree’s manager, George Jouliern, needing a courier for a scam he was planning, but she’d initially refused. Gerry had kept on about how much money it would mean to both of them, thirty to fifty thousand dollars each, depending how much of a skim Jouliern was able to get away with — but she’d had no interest or particular need for the money then, felt it was mainly to benefit Gerry, who’d got himself in deep with a twenty-grand debt to a local loan shark, Raoul Ferrer.

‘Gerry kept piling on the pressure — “I gotta do something about Ferrer, otherwise he’s gonna break my legs” — but still I said no; until, that is, I got news about my mother.’ Her mother had been suffering with diabetes for years, but suddenly it had taken a chronic turn, ‘Something called diabetic nepropathy. Suddenly it was life-threatening, she needed urgent, regular dialysis, the costs were sky-high and she didn’t have medical insurance. And so, despite the risks involved — Gerry maintained there were little or none, Jouliern had it all too well-planned — that thirty to fifty grand started to look like a godsend. My only chance of saving my mother’s life. I finally agreed, said I’d do it.’

Jouliern skimmed from people at the tables who wanted extra chips without going to the chip-cashing booths. ‘It happens a lot apparently if they’re in the middle of a game or a roll and don’t want the delay of cashing at the booths.

‘So they’d be cashed at the table, and at the end of the night Jouliern had the responsibility of taking all the cash from the tables and tallying with the chips provided. At that point, though, he’d pocket some of the cash and feed in chips from his own pocket — there was control of cash in the club, but not chips — and then the extra cash would be left in an envelope under the bar with Gerry.

‘The only problem remaining then was that as part of that cash control at the Bay-Tree, each employee, including Jouliern, was searched going in and out, and was allowed no more than fifty bucks in their pockets. So they needed a courier to get those money envelopes out… which is where yours truly came in.’

‘What, you went every night?’ The first question that Jac had asked.

‘No, three nights a week. All I could manage. And Jouliern kept the skimming light too from the tables, so that the fluctuations wouldn’t show.’ Alaysha shrugged. ‘That no-cash-out policy also gave Gerry some problems in paying Ferrer. Often, the only chance Ferrer would get to collect cash off Gerry was at night at the Bay-Tree. So Gerry would put Ferrer’s money in an envelope with his name on, and tell Security that it was to give to Ferrer later. First couple of times Security said, “Okay, we’ll give it to him ourselves when he calls.” But then when Ferrer complained about one of the payments being light, they said that Gerry could give it to him directly. “Just as long as you know that if he doesn’t call by for it, it stays here with us when you leave. He’ll have to pick it up later.” That was the golden rule — no cash out of the Bay-Tree — no matter the circumstances.’

Alaysha eased out a slow, heavy breath, as if glad she’d finally shared some of the burden. ‘The whole thing went well, no hitches. And everyone was happy: Gerry paid off Ferrer, I saved my mom’s life, and Jouliern… well, he never shared with us why he was doing it.’ She pouted thoughtfully, which eased into a faint smile. ‘Maybe half a million good reasons — because that’s what he ended up getting away with.’