"Doesn't sound like this Manny Levine dwarf has," said Daddy Bruce.
Kurtz nodded.
Pearl took his hand. "It seems like just yesterday that you and Sam were in here every night, all of us catching a late dinner and drinks after the last set, and then Sam not drinking because"
"Because she was pregnant," finished Kurtz. "Yeah. Only I guess it seems like a while ago to me."
The vocalist and the tenor sax player glanced at each other and nodded.
"Rachel?" Beau said.
"With Sam's ex-husband," said Kurtz.
"She must be whateleven, twelve now?"
"Almost fourteen," said Kurtz.
"To good times again," said Pearl in that wonderful smoke-and-whiskey voice of hers. She lifted her glass.
They all lifted their glasses.
It was getting cold at night. As Kurtz walked back through alleys and parking lots to his warehouse, wearing the corduroy trousers and denim shirt Sophia Farino had given himthe shirt worn untucked to conceal the little.38 in his waistbandhe briefly considered heading back to the office to sleep. At least the basement of the porno shop was heated. But he decided not to. What was the old maxim? Don't shit where you eat? Something like that. He wanted to keep business and business separate.
He was taking a shortcut down a long alley between warehouses, less than six blocks from his own warehouse, when a car pulled in at the end of the alley behind him. Headlights threw his shadow ahead of him on the potholed lane.
Kurtz glanced around. No doorways deep enough to hide in. A loading dock, but solid concretehe could roll up onto it if the car accelerated toward him, but he could not slip under it. No fire escapes. Too far to run to me next street if the car came at him.
Not looking back, staggering slightly as if drunk, Kurtz pulled the.38 from his belt and palmed it.
The car moved slowly down the long alley behind him. From the sound of the V-8 engine, the thing was bigat least a Lincoln Town Car, possibly a real limoand it was in no hurry. It stopped about fifty feet behind him.
Kurtz stepped into the corner where the loading dock met brick wall and let the pistol drop into his fingers. He cocked the hammer.
It was a limo. The headlights went out and in the dimmer glow of the parking lights, Kurtz could see the huge mass of the black car silhouetted against distant streetlights, its exhaust swirling around it like fog. A big man got out of the front passenger side and another big man stepped out of the rear left door. Both men reached under their blazer jackets to touch guns.
Kurtz set the hammer back in place, slid the small pistol back up into his palm,
and walked toward the limousine. Neither of the bodyguards drew weapons or moved to frisk him.
Kurtz walked past the man holding the rear door open, glanced into the rear seatilluminated by several halogen spotsand got into the car.
"Mr. Kurtz," said the old man seated there. He was wearing a tuxedo and had a Stewart-plaid lap robe over his legs.
Kurtz dropped into the jump seat opposite him. "Mr. Farino." He uncocked the pistol and slipped it back in his waistband.
The bodyguards closed the doors and remained outside in the cold.
CHAPTER 21
Kurtz made a rude noise. "Some investigation. I interviewed your former accountant's wife for about five minutes and she ended up dead within the hour. That's all I've done."
"Investigating was never your real purpose, Mr. Kurtz."
"Tell me about it. It was my idea, remember? And my real purpose seems to be working fine. They've made the first move on me."
"You don't mean Carl?"
"No," said Kurtz, "I mean whoever called the cops and set me up after they murderedbutcheredMrs. Richardson. They'd arranged a yard-shank job on me as soon as I got in general population."
Don Farino rubbed his cheek. It was a particularly rosy cheek for such a sick old man. Kurtz wondered idly if the don used makeup.
"And have you determined who set you up for this?" asked Farino.
"It's been suggested that it was a mook named Malcolm Kibunte who sometimes works for your lawyer, Miles. Do you know this Kibunte or the knife-man he hangs with? Cutter?"
Farino shook his head. "One is not able to keep track of all the black trash that comes through town these days. I presume these two are black."
"Malcolm is," said Kurtz. "Cutter's described as albino-like."
"And who told you about the shank job and suggested these names to you, Mr. Kurtz?" Farino's eyes were rapt.
"Your daughter."
Farino blinked. "My daughter? You've spoken to Sophia?"
"I've more than spoken to her," said Kurtz. "She bailed me out of jail before I went to County, and then took me home with her and tried to fuck me to death."
Don Farino's thin lips pulled back from his teeth and his fingers clenched on his knees under the robe. "Be careful, Mr. Kurtz. You speak too candidly."
Kurtz shrugged. "You're paying me for the facts. That was the setup we agreed to through Little Skag before I got outI'd be point man and Judas goat for you and flush out whoever's betraying you. It was your daughter who actedboth in the bailing and fucking departmentsI'm just reporting."