2

Back at the hotel things are going to hell in a handbasket. JT sits on the narrow desk beside the coffee maker. I remain standing. I’ve filled JT and Monroe in on what happened at the park. Now JT and me are watching Monroe as he paces back and forth across the room. His black suit is crumpled, his tie crooked.

‘What the hell – there isn’t a plan B?’ I say. ‘I don’t get it. This was never a dead cert anyways.’

Monroe shakes his head. Keeps pacing side to side across the room. It’s a nice room in a mid-price chain hotel – big enough for JT and me to remain anonymous but small enough for us to make a quick getaway if we need one. And even though it’s got a decent square footage, with a king bed and a good-sized closet, with all Monroe’s frenetic energy it’s suddenly feeling a whole lot smaller.

‘We should go home,’ says JT, running his hand over the dirty-blond stubble on his jaw. ‘No sense staying if they’re not going to play.’

‘No.’ Monroe stops mid-pace. Turns to JT. ‘Not yet.’

JT frowns. ‘Why not? The guy just—’

‘Look, Cabressa is totally OCD about things. It’s a well-known fact. Something he’s made a part of his image – nothing overlooked, every issue dealt with.’

I take a step closer to JT. His muscular bulk and chilled attitude is a whole lot more appealing than Monroe’s angry mania. ‘Maybe he just doesn’t want these chess pieces all that bad,’ I say.

Monroe turns to face me. ‘He wants them, believe me.’

I frown. ‘A man like that, head of the top mob family, can buy anything he wants. There are other valuable chess sets out in the—’

‘Not like this one,’ snaps Monroe. ‘Cabressa was in Vegas for the game back in eighty-six. He took his favourite son, his youngest, Roberto – a hell of a chess player himself, so I’m told, and a real fan of the game. It was the boy’s seventeenth birthday.’

‘So he wants it as a present for the son?’

Monroe shakes his head and runs his hand through his over-long red-brown hair, making it stick up. It makes him look like a greying rooster. ‘Roberto died a few days later back in Chicago. There was a pile-up on the freeway outside the city, nine vehicles – the boy never stood a chance. Cabressa was still in Vegas when it happened. The last time he saw his son had been the night of the chess match.’

I bite my lip. Hell, losing a child, that’s the kind of pain a parent can’t ever recover from. ‘Cabressa wants the chess pieces to remind him of that last time with his son?’

‘He’s been after these pieces a long time,’ says Monroe. ‘You gave Critten the pawn, yes?’

I nod. ‘I told you that I did, but that he gave it right back.’

Monroe mutters something to himself then looks back at me. ‘Then we’ll have to hope it isn’t all lost.’

‘But the man just walked away,’ says JT. ‘That’s a pretty clear demonstration of not being interested.’

‘Sure,’ I say. ‘But if what Monroe’s saying about Cabressa is true he’ll still want this chess set.’

Monroe nods. ‘We need to wait. He’ll get in touch.’

JT looks from me to Monroe and lets out a long whistle. Doesn’t look a whole lot convinced. ‘Maybe.’

Monroe frowns. The tension between Monroe and JT hangs thick in the air. JT doesn’t trust Monroe an inch, and right now they look like two stags ready to lock horns.

I move over to the bed and sit down as I change the subject. ‘So who’s Herron?’

Monroe looks real worried. ‘Who told you about him?’

‘Critten asked if I worked for him. I said no.’

‘In truth, we don’t know who Herron is. My sources tell me the rumours started a couple of months back, every time a shipment went missing, stashes got robbed, or a club got turned over, the word on the street was that Herron was behind it. They’re saying he’s the new man in the city, with a fresh crew, and that’s making everyone twitchy.’

‘Even Cabressa?’ JT says.

‘Especially Cabressa.’ Monroe rubs his hand across his chin. ‘And when Cabressa gets twitchy, there’s usually a bloodbath.’

A wave of nausea floods through me. I swallow hard. Fix Monroe with my gaze. ‘I didn’t sign up for that.’ I glance at JT. ‘We didn’t sign up for it.’

Monroe gives me a crocodile smile. ‘But you’re here, and you got a job to do.’

‘This is a sting, not a combat operation.’ JT’s expression is real serious. His tone no-shit determined. ‘Things get messy, we’re out.’

Monroe glares at him a beat longer than is comfortable. Then he laughs. ‘Yes it’s a sting, for sure, and you’re not here as cannon fodder, but I don’t want any mistakes, you got to make sure you do the job right.’

I can tell from the firm set of his jaw that JT’s pissed. I’m feeling the same way. I catch Monroe’s gaze. Raise my eyebrows. ‘You doubting us now?’

Monroe sighs. ‘Look, for the Bureau the pieces are the tip of the iceberg. You do your job right, and we arrest Cabressa for handling stolen goods. Taking him into custody will send a ripple through the mob’s world, and word will get around fast to the other crime families here in the city. When we’ve arrested him before there’s not been enough evidence to make things stick, but we do this right and we’ll be able to hold him. That’ll disrupt the power he has over the city.’ Monroe’s getting more passionate as he speaks. ‘People will see he’s in trouble and they’ll want to talk, cut a deal, before they get pulled in. The crime eco-system will be in flux, and that’ll give us the chance to get more dirt on Cabressa. Then we can lock him up for good.’

I’ve never seen Monroe so passionate about catching a criminal, and I know for a fact that he’s only really interested in doing things where he personally benefits. I tilt my head to one side. ‘Why this guy; why not one of the others?’

‘What the hell does it matter to you?’ Monroe growls.

‘I’m curious why you’re getting your panties in such a wad. And if I’m risking my hide for this, why don’t you humour me?’

Monroe is silent for a long moment. Shakes his head. ‘Look, I lost a promotion when the sting I planned last time failed … That made this personal. If I lose again this time, my career’s over.’ He glares at me. ‘That a good-enough reason for you?’

‘Sure,’ I say. But, as I watch him start to pace again, I wonder if he’s told me the whole truth. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s lied to me. And when he does lie, things have a habit of getting real dangerous, real fast.