GOLDILOCKS SEEMED AT A loss for words, so I jumped right in. “Mr. Apprezziano wants to see me when his meeting is over. Plus … he wants to be sure nobody knows I’m here. Got it?” The man seemed to be thinking—a real struggle, from all appearances. “You know who I mean by nobody?”
“Nobody means nobody, I know that. But how do I know you’re telling me the truth?”
“You don’t. So … you put me in a room somewhere out of sight. Then, when the two nobodies in question are gone, you take me to Mr. Apprezziano.” I stopped, to let his brain catch up. “And then, if I’ve been lying, he lets you kick the shit out of me. How’s that?”
It made sense to Goldilocks, although a dark, overheated three-by-three-foot closet off the kitchen wasn’t the sort of room somewhere out of sight I’d had in mind. And I’d handed him the Beretta, so the handcuffs seemed a little excessive.
It wasn’t all that long, though, before the door opened again and I was blinking into the bright lights of the kitchen.
“How the hell did you get in here?” It was Gus, looking like an ordinary human being in tan wool pants and a dark green sweater.
“Your stooge locked me—”
“I don’t mean in the closet. I mean onto my property, for chrissake. There’s a wall, and dogs, and—”
“Ah,” I said. “That’s why you hired me, isn’t it? I have my ways.” I twisted around to show him the cuffs. “You have a key?”
He didn’t, but he called out and Goldilocks came in, unlocked the cuffs, laid my gun on the kitchen table, and left again.
Gus poured coffee. I hadn’t noticed before, in his Cadillac or at Melba’s, how tanned he was, as though he’d just returned from two weeks in the sun. I hung my parka over the back of a chair and we sat across from each other, the Beretta between us. Gus picked it up, checked the magazine, and saw there were seven live rounds. Then he handed it back to me and I stuck the pistol back into the sweat-soaked holster below my left armpit.
“Nobody brings a piece onto my property,” he said. “Nobody. It’s my rule.”
“Sorry. Coming here was sort of a last-minute decision.” I poured milk from a cardboard container into the dark coffee. “But, speaking of your hiring me, maybe I should give you your money back.”
Gus’s eyes narrowed, and darkened somehow, and it was suddenly clear again that he wasn’t just an ordinary person in a green sweater at all. “Fuck the money.” He was almost whispering. “Who is she?”
“I don’t know. I’m drawing a blank.”
“And … you’re sure you been trying?”
“I put people on it.” He started to say something, but I held up my hand. “Discreet people. Not to worry.” I shook my head. “But so far nothing. Seems very strange.” What I was saying was all true. I’d put Herb Gatsby on the job. Great Gatsby Investigations was expensive and I might lose money on the deal, but Herb’s people were the best.
“You only been at it a few days,” Gus said. “Something has to—”
“I know. My people say they need a little more time.” That part wasn’t true. Gatsby’s woman had told me they’d hit a blank wall so far. She’d also told me what the blank wall probably meant, which I’d already guessed. Gus might have guessed, too, which is why I wasn’t ready to tell him the search was over.
Gus stared down into his mug, then looked up. “You know Steve and Dominic were here tonight, right?” He’d changed again, seemed more relaxed.
“I, uh … I followed them here.”
“Where’s Rosa? And the kid?”
“I don’t know.”
He nodded, believing me immediately. “They told me the cops say you killed that priest.”
“Is that a question?”
“No. It’s what they told me.” He drank some coffee. “You’re a walking dead man, they say.”
“The cops?” I knew better, though.
“Steve and Dominic. They’re hoping they get to you first. Figure they can do the cops a favor. Steve especially. He’s pissed you’re helping that prick that tried to fuck little Trish. But Dominic, too. He’s kinda pushing Steve to do something. I guess ’cause he’s family. And maybe ’cause he likes … excitement.”
“What about you? You’re part of the family.”
“But I’m not young and hotheaded like those two. I’m way past the age to give a shit about goin’ after some mope who’s just doing a job.” He sounded sincere enough. You’d think Gus was beyond the age of bloodletting, if you didn’t know better.
“So, did you call off Dominic and Steve? Tell ’em to let this particular mope slide?”
“Call ’em off?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “My promise was I’d keep Steve away from your pervert buddy for now. I made no promise about you. Like I just said, I don’t give a shit. Long as they don’t mix me up in anything, which they know better than to do.” He downed the last of his coffee. “You oughta drop this Fleming thing. Cops think you maybe killed Tina … and now the priest. The security guard at bingo ID’d you. Gives Steve an excuse. Him and Dominic get to you first … well … they’re kinda strange, them two. Cops aren’t your big worry. You oughta take a trip or something.”
“Right.”
“Except, don’t forget.” He stood up. “I want some word on that Colter broad. Otherwise, your list of problems keeps growing.”
I followed him to the front door, with Goldilocks not far behind.
“You got a car somewhere outside the gate?” Gus asked.
“No. I … uh … hitched a ride. But that guy’s long gone by now.”
“Too bad.” He opened the door and pointed. “Long as you stay on that road, the dogs won’t bother you. Push the button on the post twice when you get there and wait for the gate to open up. After that you’re on your own.”
The dogs let me be, although they were never far away, moving through the brush on either side of the road. I walked over a wooden bridge that crossed a stream that was frozen, and eventually came to the iron gate. It was bathed in light and set in a high wall that disappeared into the darkness in either direction. I found the metal post and pushed the button twice, waited while the gate slid open, and then walked out.
Gus was right. The gate slid closed behind me, and after that I was very much on my own.