Jonn put down the fork in his well-developed hand, the seafood no longer so appealing. “I’ll ask you again, Lilah, what’s the point of this visit?”
“Hey Jonn, no need for the hostility.” The senator didn’t want to antagonize the voters. “Lilah, Georgia, is it a matter that your ever-approachable representative could help with?”
Georgia held his gaze. “Can’t we go someplace quieter to discuss this? It’s a very personal issue, which needs a delicate touch.” Wow, Georgia, don’t be too subtle. But Senator Smythe had already melted over his seat. It suited me fine to be left alone with Jonn.
“We’d like that too,” Jonn piped up, rather nervously. So, he’d understood my train of thought. He’d become a worried man. Good. Even if a bodyguard could be called, they were obviously too far away to be of any use to him. For once, I felt grateful for his overbearing arrogance. He lit another foul cigar and inhaled deeply.
Four glasses of wine hastily finished, the senator ushered us to his suite of rooms in the hotel below. Whether he owned them or they came with the job didn’t matter to me. At that moment, they simply represented an ideal opportunity. On our way, he regaled us with his plans to extend the monorail, which didn’t exactly make for thrilling listening. The line, no, make that lines, would apparently stretch to infinity. Though I’m sure he mentioned the Hoover Dam. Or maybe I simply wished that’s where I could retreat to, not to hear his masterful voice projection.
“I’ve been considering collecting boring old movie posters,” Georgia trilled as we exited the elevator. “You’d be surprised how much money they can cost, and the dullest ones are the most expensive. In fact, it’s the dull ones I look out for.”
“Actually, I’ve just come to appreciate the value of figurines,” I airily confessed. “There’s no such expression as too mawkish for me, and no amount of money I’m not willing to pay. Heck, I’ll even take out a loan to get a particularly sickly looking specimen.”
“A loan, girlfriend? Why stop at a loan? Let’s be honest, if you want the item, why not sell your house?” She smiled.
“Girlfriend, no need to be all cautious. Sell your house and sell your soul in a contract with the devil too, that’s my motto.” I smiled harder.
Smythe and Brooks clearly struggled for a suitable reply to our outbursts, while we strode along the plushly carpeted corridor. I noted that my final comment had seriously turned the heat back up on Jonn’s discomfort, so well done, Georgia. My, didn’t he just run a finger inside his collar, to let out some steam? We came to a halt outside an unnumbered door. The senator tapped out a code on a keypad and we entered his inner sanctum.
The theme of Smythe’s many rooms was a Roman villa, with frescoes of topless Roman lovelies on every wall, mosaics of topless Roman lovelies on the floor, and topless Roman art all over the place. The large entrance contained a fountain, which depicted nymphs badly in need of a decent toga shop. Several shut doors to left and right whispered of secrets that lay beyond. A veritable Hideawayus Maximus, as the Ancients would’ve surely called it. Although I’d definitely call it a mock-Roman orgy of bad taste.
“We can party as loud as we want, these rooms are soundproof. Yeah, thought you’d enjoy the decor, Lilah. Care to see my bust?” Smythe asked Georgia, tugging her towards an inner door.
“Hey, that’s my line, Senator,” she giggled.
“You’ll find out why they call me a big shot.”
“I’m a bit of a collector myself,” Jonn announced, “can we see the bust too?”
The senator looked taken-aback. “Easy, pardner, this is strictly a private senatorial audience.” A consummate politician, he maintained his facade until the moment for action came. He produced a gun and made to aim at Jonn’s back.
“No!” I cried, managing to grab and deflect the arm before the blow could be struck. He shot into the air. I prized his chubby fingers from the handle, then pushed him away. He stumbled, whacked his head against a plinth and fell unconscious. Above him, a toga-clad statue of Senator Smythe struck a heroic pose. Though minus a nose, which he’d just blown away.
“But Lilah, didn’t you want revenge? Weren’t the coins supposed to find a way through to Jonn?”
“This is my revenge, my show, my choreography.”
“I knew you were up to no good.” Jonn’s eyes darted betweenGeorgia and me as he backed towards the door. He reached inside his light grey jacket. In front of me, Georgia fired a warning shot. The hand stopped.
“Stand over in the corner,” she insisted, carelessly pointing with the barrel in what I considered a rather dangerous, frankly unprofessional manner. He complied, enabling me to press the cotton wool, drenched in chloroform, over her mouth. Once more, I’d turned her lights out. Sorry babe. My own gun in hand, I faced Jonn.
“Now what, Lilah? You gonna waste me, that’s it? A little cheap psychiatric help from a bullet? What did I ever do to you?” Bad mistake. He made me remember all the stuff he’d done to me. Which in turn tensed my trigger finger and made me fire. That must’ve been his plan, as next second he hurled himself behind the plinth and through a door. King of skimming be damned, this here was the king of rats. I chased his tail.
In a faux forest clearing I had him pinned, crouching behind a marble discus thrower. Though I couldn’t recall reading of any female discus throwers in Ancient Rome, I strongly doubted that they’d go topless. Wouldn’t it hinder the throwing action? Panpipes softly played from hidden speakers, in amongst the plastic trees and shrubs.
“Look, Lilah, you don’t really want me dead, do you?”
“If you must plead for your pathetic life, get on with it.” My response surprised me. Could I be softening?
“The real loot is in Calico ghost town.”
“Keep going.”
“I’ve got the key right here. Just point it at the correct spot inside Maggie’s Mine and it’s all yours. The map is inside the key.”
“The key. Now.” Another metallic key tumbled through the air to land by my heels. “Step out from behind the statue.”
“A deal’s a deal, Lilah, okay? You leave and I promise not to follow you, okay? You trust me?” When he appeared, the gunshot I gave to his right knee meant that I trusted him. Wow, was I really going all caring and sharing in my dotage? Well, until he loosened off a round at my retreating back, grazing my left thigh and ruining my new gold hotpants, I was. I turned and fired as an automatic defense mode. He slumped, face down, in a growing pool of blood on the artificial turf. Pan, unfazed,played on regardless amongst the green foliage. This sacrifice hadn’t been in his honor.
Georgia and Smythe tottered in, their eyes glazed, leaning on each other for mutual support. At the sight of the body, Smythe let out a piercing scream and turned away, though he still remained propped up on Georgia’s shoulder.
“Is he…” Georgia began.
“Yep, show’s over. The fat lady sang, and she wasn’t even topless.”
“That’ll never do for the Strip.”
“What the hell are you two girls going on about?” He spoke with a tremor and stayed facing the door.
“With the soundproofing, no one heard the gunfire.” I began to stroll around the glade.
“But we can’t leave him here.”
“That thought had crossed my mind, Georgia. By the way, Senator, if you’re so squeamish, how come you were willing to shoot the late Chuckles?”
He looked sheepish. “Go on,” Georgia prompted, “no point trying to keep it a secret any longer.”
Shifty replaced sheepish. “I kinda owe my election victory to Jonn. And lately, well, he’d been asking me to do some, that is to cover up some, very, very bad things.”
“What, worse than vote rigging, you mean?” He let that remark go without a rebuttal. “Yeah, now you mention it, I did wonder about your late surge at the ballot box. You strike me as an early surger.” He swiveled to give me an annoyed look. Good, his grip was returning.