Fats raised his glass. “Here’s to doing what you got to do.”
After we sipped, I nodded to where Kane Jackson sat with a long-legged chocolate dame on his arm. “Word is Kane took over Tommy’s op.”
Fats nodded. “Managed to salvage it, anyway. Tommy took a big gamble and lost a lot with that caper you and him were caught up with. Kane was next up, and managed to recover most of what was left without any real fuss.”
I studied Kane from the corner of my eye. “How is he? Think he wants payback for what happened to his boss, or should I expect a fruit basket and a thank-you note?”
“Kane’s a businessman. Not as hungry as Tommy was. He’ll play the cards he has and won’t take any serious risks. Things will settle down with him in the driver’s seat.”
I downed the rest of the bourbon and tapped the bar for a reload. “What about the Gaiden? He inherit that, too?”
Fats’ laugh was more like a contented purr. “Now that’s an interesting situation. Kane didn’t like the conspicuousness of the Gaiden. Put it up for sale.”
“Not a bad joint. A bit stuffy, but I didn’t hate the atmosphere. Plus you were there, Fats. That’s an automatic upgrade. Any buyers?”
Fats just tapped his finger on the trumpet valves and grinned like a Cheshire cat.
I laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Congrats, Ace. The joint couldn’t have gotten a better owner.” I caught the drink that slid my direction and raised it. “To new beginnings.”
Fats downed his tonic with a pleased grin. He gave me a keen glance as he set the glass on the bar counter. “Seeing how it’s Downtown instead of the Uppers, it’s a bit of a financial gamble. Figure it might pay off, though.”
“Pay off?” I barked a laugh. “Folks come all the way from the Heights to hear your sound, man. You got nothing to worry about.”
Fats shrugged his rounded shoulders. “Still, there’s a lot to it. I’m a music man, not a businessman. A lot I still gotta get a handle on.”
“Get yourself a mandroid accountant to tow the business side, Fats. Most folks do that nowadays. I did the same for Natasha when her folks died. She doesn’t have to worry about folks ripping her off or getting in some shady deal. Hell, a synoid will work better, even though I don’t trust those creepy things.”
Fats gave me an impatient look. “I got all that down pat, my man. Look, if you wanna make me come out and say it, I’ll say it. I’m looking for a partner, brother.”
I paused with my drink half-raised. “A partner? You mean… me?”
“Why not? A cat like you is good for business. You pulled in similar work for Luzzatti. Every good joint needs someone to keep an eye on things. Handle the stuff that happens outside the lines, you know?”
“I know all too well. Look how Luzzatti ended up.”
Fats placed a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. “Not your fault, brother. You know that as well as I do. And besides, you might wanna consider laying low a bit. I keep my ear to the wire, and I’ve been hearing your name come up more often than I’m comfortable with.”
My mouth twisted. “Can’t be helped. Comes with the line of work.”
“Maybe it’s time you thought about switching careers.” Fat’s face turned solemn. “I’m serious, man. You can poke a hornet’s nest only so often before you get stung to death. And you’ve been poking awful hard lately.”
I hesitated. A share in a joint like the Gaiden was a tempting offer. And Fats was right — I did like the work I did for Luzzatti before everything went to hell. It fit my temperament like a glove, gave me a sense of purpose. I felt like I belonged somewhere. Like what I did meant something.
“I’ll think it over, Fats. I’ve been sitting on some case dough anyhow, thinking of what to do besides drink it away. Lemme get back with you.”
Fats’ wide, easy grin spread across his face. “Now that’s what I’m talking ‘bout. I’ll save a seat for you at the bar in the meantime.” His expression darkened as he looked up. “Guess this is my cue to blow. Stay outta trouble, Mick.”
Fats abruptly stood and strode away. I almost groaned out loud when Scars took his vacated seat. With his angular face and shadowy stare he looked more like a zombie than a man. The skin stretched tight across his protruding cheekbones and his cheeks were hollow, as if he ate the bare minimum required to stay alive. Sitting there with his black-on-black suit he might as well have called himself Death and gotten it over with.
I gave him my most infuriating smirk. “How’s it hanging, Scars? Anything I can do you for? Howzabout a hot meal? You look like you can use one.”
Scars didn’t even bother to blink. “What are you doing here, Mick?”
I gestured to the crowded ballroom. “Look at all these carrion eaters in their finest blacks, come to lurk over the dead like a bunch of crows. Know they called a flock of crows back in the day? A murder. How’s that for irony?”
Scars’ expression never changed. “What are you doing here, Mick?”
“I’m a friend of the family.”
His gaze turned feverish.
I held up my hands. “Ok, I’m a friend of the deceased. Wanted to show my respects, is all.”
“You showed your respects to my boss the last time I saw you. Put me out of a job.”
“And got you and upgrade at the same time.” I jabbed a finger his direction. “You wouldn’t be working for Flacco if it weren’t for me, remember?”
He continued to stare at me with his serial killer eyes. “I remember. But I don’t owe you nothing, Mick. And I don’t like you sniffing around, either. You’re a loose cannon. Things are good working for Flacco. I’d be awfully upset if anything happened to change that.”
It was my turn to stare. “You think I’m gonzo enough to make a move against Flacco? What kind of a rube do you take me for?”
“Tell that to Pike. Or the Red-Eyed Killer. Or Tommy Tsunami. You’ve been moving up the ladder on takedowns, Mick. A lotta people get nervous when your name is brought up.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “I didn’t knock Pike off, Scars. Flacco did. And I didn’t lay a finger on Tommy, either. He died of a broken heart.”
“A broken heart.” Scars had the kind of cackling laugh made specifically for giving folks the creeps. “You’re a real comedian, aren’t you? Doesn’t matter how they went down, Mick. Everyone knows you had a hand in it. Better watch your step.”
“Yeah, I keep hearing that. You want something, or you just drop by to bask in my charm?”
Scars grimaced, turning his face even more skeletal. “Mr. Flacco would like to speak with you in private. Let’s go.”
“Flacco wants to bump gums with little ol’ me? What an unexpected surprise. Lead the way, Ace.”
I put a little swagger in my walk as we strode across the crowded dining room, since a lot of folks were staring as discreetly as possible. I clapped eyes on the Black Widow as she glided across the other side of the room, coincidentally matching our pace and heading the same direction we did. Then No-Nose Nate excused himself from his table right about when we passed. Not exactly a good sign, but I wasn’t nervous or anything. Just taking note of the situation, was all.
I kept a reassured smile and a casual step as Scars led me down one of the private hallways. But with no heater and no backup I was pretty much as vulnerable as I’d ever been since I was hauled out the river with no memory. And things didn’t look like they were gonna get brighter anytime soon.
Chapter 5: The Godfather
Moe Flacco’s office was an architectural dream of polished wood from his massive desk to the floor, walls, and cornered pillars. There were only a couple of chairs other than the luxuriously padded leather one he sat in, because folks weren’t meant to be comfortable when standing before the Don. Real books lined the shelves behind him, each worth an individual fortune. His desk was spotlighted by a glass-stained aperture in the ceiling, and an entire wall section displayed a scenic view of New Haven from the ceiling-length windows. From that far up the lights looked like an ocean full of iridescent glimmers.