“Good. I want you to go and keep an eye on Dominique. Make sure she does her job this time, will you? And if she doesn’t, kill her.”
He nodded again, but hesitated before leaving, as if wanting to speak, but unsure if he should. Trent noticed.
“What?”
“If I have to kill her, what do we do about her kid?” he asked.
Trent held his gaze without a word, and then simply turned his back on him, staring out the window of his office at the gray skies outside.
Bennett sighed and took his leave, having been given the answer to his question without any words needed.
Trent didn’t think of himself as a monster, despite having done some truly monstrous things in his life. He classed himself as a businessman, nothing more. And he would do whatever it took to ensure the success of his business. If Dominique betrayed him again, he’d have her executed in a heartbeat. As for her child… well, Trent hated loose ends, but he could always find a use for her. In a few years, he could put her to work in one of his clubs maybe. But, he thought, then he’d have to look after her until she was ready, which would be time-consuming and a hindrance.
No… he’d just kill her. He would bury her with her fucking mother.
28
Jimmy Manhattan was sitting at a table in Walkers Sports Bar, cradling a double whiskey in his hand. Next to him, Paulie Tarantina was sending a text message to some of the guys on their payroll, issuing instructions to their respective businesses.
Manhattan looked around. The bar was mostly empty, save for the three men that Tarantina insisted follow them everywhere, the bartender, who was cleaning some glasses behind the bar, and one patron, who sat in the corner facing the door, drinking a beer and reading the newspaper.
He looked at the stairs leading up to the room above. It seemed so long ago that he climbed them, fresh out of hospital and put in motion his plan to take over the city. In truth, only four days had passed. But in that time, he had indeed taken over nearly all illegal activity in Allentown. It was an impressive feat, and it made a bold statement to anyone who would challenge him.
Except Wilson Trent.
He cursed himself for neglecting to consider the bigger picture when making his plans. He looked at things one city at a time. But what he should’ve done was consider the entire state before making his move. Still, you can’t help bad luck. He just needed to make sure he was ready for what was coming.
He thought back to his conversation with Adrian Hell earlier that morning. He smiled at Adrian’s weakness. He’d called him to tell him about Wilson Trent, warning him about his discovery like a friend or colleague would. He allowed himself a moment of pride, as his plan to play Adrian was working better than he’d expected. He had his own issues with Trent, and his involvement would likely cause enough of a distraction that he’d be able to capitalize and take over once Trent had been killed. He knew enough about Adrian Hell to know that you’re unlikely to survive if you’re in his crosshairs. But wasn’t just Trent who’d be distracted by this. When the time was right, he’d take out Adrian himself.
He smiled to himself as he took another sip of his drink and remembered, somewhat fondly, slicing his face with a scalpel. He remembered him saving his life in San Francisco. And now, he’d called up with a warning of a potential attack from one of the biggest crime lords in the United States.
But Manhattan was way ahead of him. As soon as he found out about Trent, he’d prepared himself for some form of retaliation. But for his plan to work, he needed to keep his cards close to his chest. Even from those closest to him. If things went as he expected they would, he’d need people’s reactions to be as believable as possible, to keep up appearances.
“What now, Mr. Manhattan?” asked Tarantina, placing his phone on the table and picking up his glass of water.
“We’re in no position to go up against Trent,” Manhattan replied. “Diplomacy is our only move. I have a feeling our new ally is looking for ways to get to Trent as well, so we just need to bide our time and wait for our moment.”
Tarantina nodded as he sipped his drink.
“I had no idea Trent was this powerful,” he said after a moment.
“Me neither,” conceded Manhattan. “Of course, I’d heard of him, but back when I was running the West Coast with Pellaggio, Trent was nothing compared to what he is now. He was a real slow burner — he took his time and played the game and now he owns everything. You’ve got to admire that, if nothing else.”
“Do you think we can do everything we want to with him in the picture?”
Manhattan took another sip of his whiskey and shrugged. “Honestly? I think we could, but there’s no way he’d sit back and make it easy for us. That would lead to a turf war, and it costs a lot of money if you want to win one of those.”
“So what did this Adrian Hell say to you?”
“He said to prepare for war, because Trent’s after our blood since we ordered the hit on Johnny King.”
“Can we not make it look like Adrian acted independently? Shift the blame away from us? From what you said, those two clearly have history, so Trent might buy it. Then we can bypass the confrontation and seize more power in the aftermath.”
Manhattan smiled. “I’ve always said you were smart enough to run your own business, Paulie. I’ve not forgotten what he’s done to me in the past, and I will make sure he pays for it all. There’s obviously something between him and Trent, and I’m keen to find out what that is. Maybe an opportunity to exploit whatever history those two have will present itself soon, and I’ll be ready if that happens. But until then, we play this smart and patient, and focus on what we do know, which is that Wilson Trent will be looking to us for payback. We need to make sure we handle him correctly. We have the back-up plan of blaming Adrian, should it make sense to do so, but I think we need to focus on working with Trent, not against him.”
Tarantina nodded slowly, as if taking notes from a teacher, and then silence fell between them. Ten more minutes passed without a word, both men enjoying a rare moment of relaxation.
The door swung open, and four men walked in. One walked in first with the other three behind him in a loose semi-circle. The man in front was tall and well built, wearing a tight black t-shirt under an open jacket. The men behind him were all dressed in suits, with no ties. They were a little shorter, but of similar stature.
They all scanned the bar before their eyes settled on Manhattan and Tarantina.
“Boss…” said Tarantina, looking up and seeing them.
Manhattan looked up, too, and silently signaled to the two bodyguards standing near them and the one over by the bar to do their jobs. They all quickly moved to intercept the new arrivals.
Both groups of men squared off to each other, threatening with evil looks and puffed chests, as only hired muscle could do. Manhattan watched for a moment before speaking.
“Can I help you gentleman?” he asked.
The man at the front looked past the bodyguards, directly at Manhattan. He wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. If anything, he was a little bemused.
“You Jimmy Manhattan?” he replied.
“Who wants to know?” said Tarantina, standing and joining the group of men. He stood directly in front of the man who spoke. He was a lot shorter, but what Tarantina lacked in height, he more than made up for in violence. When it came down to it, if he was let off his leash, Tarantina was an animal.
Manhattan suppressed a smile. “Easy, Paulie,” he said. “I’m sure we can avoid any unnecessary conflict here.” He turned to the new arrivals. “I am Jimmy Manhattan, yes. And you are…?”