‘That’s what we all said.’
‘Thing is,’ Friscoe said, ‘if Kershman is out of it like you say — that leaves us in the shit pile with no flyswatter. And if they get smart and get rid of Scardi, we can’t stick them for even runnin’ a stop sign. The best we can do, we go to Jaspers, lay it all out for him, give it to the Feds, and hope to hell they can make something out of it.’
‘No way!’ Sharky snapped.
‘So, her idea’s the best thing we got goin’ there, Shark,’ Friscoe said. ‘After tonight our string’s run out. We’re on borrowed time right now. Anybody tumbles to that junk, Abrams’s body turns up, school’s out.’
‘So what are we gonna do,’ Sharky said, just stand around and hope they make a move?’
‘We freak them,’ Livingston said.
‘How?’
‘I’ll let them see me, then duck back in the crowd,’ Domino said. ‘If I do it often enough, they’ll have to do something. I’ll be in costume and you’ll be in your Sunday suit with a little mask on. It’ll be kind of fun.’
‘Fun! These people don’t play for fun.’
‘Right,’ Friscoe said. ‘And judging from some of their moves the last few days, they ain’t afraid to take big chances. Sharky, you stick to her like Elmer’s glue. We’ll have you wired, and Arch and J will be in the lobby if anything breaks loose. Papa’s gonna try crashing the gate so he can back you up. Anything happens, we’ll be in there like the fuckin’ Marines.’
‘I don’t know. . .‘ Sharky said.
‘Well, let’s make up our minds, troops, because we got about two hours to show time. After that, it’s give it to Jaspers and collect unemployment.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Enormous arc spotlights swept back and forth in front of Mirror Towers, their beams reaching up into a clear, star-filled sky. Live TV cameras rested on tripods beside a red carpet that stretched from the kerb in front of the building to the blazing entrance to Pachinko!
Celebrities had started arriving at six for a private cocktail party in DeLaroza’s penthouse. The regular guests had begun arriving even earlier and now they began filing into the four elevators for the trip to the magic gates of the amusement atrium.
Newsmen crowded around Donald Hotchins as he got out of the black limousine. His wife, Elena, remained in the back seat as usual, waiting for the furore to die down. She hated the public spectacle, hated the press, hated everything about politics.
Hotchins seemed the perfect politico, his longish blond hair flopping casually over his forehead, his broad smile radiating sincerity. He seemed even taller and more handsome than usual in the elegance of a tuxedo.
As he got out of the car into a volley of popping flashbulbs and a phalanx of microphones, all thrust in his face, DeLaroza moved through the crowd of reporters to shake his hand.
‘Is it true, Senator, that you’re going to make an announcement later this evening?’ one of them asked.
‘Well, why don’t we wait for a little while and see? Hotchins said, still grinning. ‘By the way this is Victor DeLaroza. You ought to get to know him. You’ll be seeing a lot of him in the future.’
‘So you are going to be making a statement then?’ someone else asked.
‘Wait another hour or so,’ Hotchins said good-naturedly. ‘I’ve never missed a deadline yet.’
The press contingent laughed and moved back as the senator helped his wife from the sedan. She smiled coolly at DeLaroza, who nodded back, and then led the Hotchinses along the red carpet towards Pachinko!
She appeared older than Hotchins, a stunning woman, tall and straight, although somewhat stem-looking and formal. She had silver-grey hair and the kind of features the magazines sometimes call handsome. She was wearing a glittering white gown and a full-length lynx coat.
As they approached the entrance Hotchins saw through the crowd a woman standing near the doorway, her face inscrutable behind a waxen full-face mask with high, bright-red cheekbones and a thin slash of mouth. She was wearing a gold full-length mandarin dress with a blazing red sun in the midsection and her eyes seemed to follow hun through the slanted cutouts in the mask. He looked back as he entered the building. There was something disquieting about her.
‘So that’s the pair,’ Sharky said, as the Hotchins party boarded one of the bullet-shaped elevators to be whisked up to DeLaroza’s penthouse.
‘He looked back at me,’ Domino said, her voice muffled by the mask. ‘I was afraid for a minute he might have recognized me.’
‘Maybe the gown attracted him,’ Sharky said. ‘It’s gorgeous.’
‘It came from Hong Kong,’ she said.
‘Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?’ They entered the lobby and mingled with the crowd waiting for the elevators to Pachinko! They were a strange couple, Sharky in his tweed suit and black eye mask, Domino in the shimmering gold gown, with the eerie waxen disguise covering her entire face.
‘You sure you want to go through with this?’ Sharky asked.
‘Too late to stop now,’ she said. ‘Besides, I have a little getting even to do myself.’
The elevator opened at the top of Ladder Street and Sharky and Domino stepped out into a carnival of sight and sound.
Several hundred visitors had already arrived and the enormous atrium was crowded. Jugglers roved the steps of Ladder Street, tossing fire sticks back and forth. Music seemed to swell from every doorway. Travelling hucksters offered postcards and trinkets. The smell of barbecuing chicken and ribs drifted up from the food stalls.
‘Look for Papa. He should be close to the top of the steps,’ Sharky said.
The place made him nervous. Too big. Too many people. It was more dangerous than he had imagined.
Papa was standing in front of the first food stall, nibbling a rib. He was not wearing a mask.
‘Have any trouble getting in?’ Sharky asked him.
‘Naw. I could crash a kindergarten party and get away with it.’
‘Where’s your mask?’
‘There’s some things even I won’t do for the department.’
‘The place is bigger than I thought,’ Sharky said.
‘Worry you?’
‘A little.’
‘Not me. Easier to keep an eye on her. Harder for them to spot you.’
‘Maybe you’re right.’
‘You feeling okay?’ Papa asked.
‘I’m fine.’ Only Domino knew that they had stopped at Grady Hospital on the way to the opening, where Twigs had given Sharky a shot of speed. ‘You gonna become a junkie now that you’re off the Narcs?’ Twigs asked him. ‘I just want to stay awake tonight,’ Sharky had answered. The stuff was good. He felt strong and alert and his maimed finger was just a dull ache at the end of his arm.
‘You got everything down pat?’ he asked Domino.
‘Sure,’ she said.
‘Remember, if I tell you to do anything, do it. Don’t ask questions, I may not have time to explain.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said and threw a mock salute.
‘And knock that shit off too, pardon my French, ladies.’
‘I think Friscoe’s cute,’ she said.
‘He’s as peaceful as a split lip,’ Papa said.
‘We’ll go to the bottom of Ladder Street, check out the radio mikes. Could be a lot of interference in here. Put your hearing aid in your ear.’
‘It’s uncomfortable,’ Papa said.
‘Put it in anyway. Let’s. be ready when they get down here.’
Friscoe and Arch were outside, standing apart from the crowd in a doorway to keep out of the wind gusting from the plaza. Sharky’s voice came over the walkie-talkie loud and clear.
‘This is Vulture One to Vulture Two. You read?
‘This is Vulture Two,’ Papa answered. ‘Loud and clear.’
‘Vulture One to Nest. We coming in okay?’
‘You’re coming in clear,’ Friscoe answered. ‘What’s it look like up there?’