| |
TONY MOVED HIS STUFF to the Pacific Manor, then waited until nightfall. His first stop was his apartment, or at least he meant to go to his apartment. As he approached the building he recognised a couple of Carlos’s men in front. It was lucky that it was dark and Tony wasn’t wearing anything they’d recognise. He left in the most conspicuous way he could. He jumped into a nearby cabriolet and told the driver to take him to the temple on Sting Street. It rode past the men who were watching the building. Even if they recognised him, he was travelling too fast to catch. They wouldn’t have looked though. If they were waiting for him, they wouldn’t think he’d be sitting in a cabriolet, riding past them in plain sight. This was a careful move. Tony hated luck.
It took twenty minutes for the cabriolet to get to the temple. Although Tony didn’t have the slip with the details, he hoped the recital was more than one night. He paid the driver and went to find out.
It was one of the progressive temples, a kind of an all-purpose temple for whatever god the parishioner wanted to honour. Although sacrifices were no longer carried out, there were still altars where the faithful could lay down sacrificial cash and purchase the attention of their god of choice. Some of the gods worshipped demanded their cut of the money, but most were content with the good will its collection fostered.
Tony greeted a bored-looking blonde adolescent girl in the cashier’s booth. She was reading a romance novel and probably wanting to be somewhere else. “What ya here fer?” she asked without looking up.
“I’m here to hear some music,” Tony said.
“Yeah, so what god are you here to appease?”
“Aphrodite.” Tony smiled.
That made her look.
“Seriously,” Tony said. “There’s meant to be a recital here, piano trio if I remember.”
“Tickets are ten Crown Tokens,” the girl said.
“Even for a follower of Aphrodite?” Tony asked.
She scanned him carefully. “I don’t think you’re one of them,” she said. “If you were, you’d be wearing something tighter than that.”
“Belonged to a jealous husband.”
“Ten Crown Tokens.” She smiled.
Tony handed her the money.
“To the left. It’s out the back,” she said.
Tony went through the door, turned left and followed the music.
The recital was in a small auditorium. There were six rows of chairs with an aisle down the centre. The chairs were mostly occupied by elderly couples who sat and watched the musicians. There was a thin young woman playing the violin, a chunky older woman sitting at the front playing the cello and Nolan, one of Carlos’s doormen, was at the piano. They were playing something that Tony didn’t recognise but the faces of the audience said he should.
Tony found a seat toward the centre. The music continued for longer than Tony wanted. He liked it, but there were other things on his mind. He made a point of giving them a standing ovation when the trio stood to take their bows. Nolan looked surprised to see him.
As the audience was leaving, Tony made his way to the musicians.
“I thought you were dead,” Nolan said.
“Pleased to see you too,” Tony said. “That sounded marvellous.”
“Thanks,” the chunky older woman said. “You like this sort of music?”
Tony smiled at her. “This is only the second or third time I’ve been to something like this,” he lied. “It’s really begun to grow on me.”
She smiled, then looked at Nolan. “Are you going to introduce me?” she asked.
“This is Tony Sharpe,” Nolan said, “an associate of my employer.”
“Oh,” the woman put her hand toward Tony. “I’m Clara, Clara Mankowitz.”
Tony took her hand. “I’m pleased to know you.”
“What happened there?” She pointed to Tony’s left shoulder.
“Nothing much. Just a small bullet wound.”
She laughed and looked at Nolan. “Charming and has a sense of humour.”
Nolan nodded to Tony. “We have some business to discuss,” he said. “Will you excuse us?”
“Only if you promise to give him back once you’re finished.”
“Of course,” Nolan smiled.
Clara went to tend to her cello.
“You enjoyed that a little too much,” Tony whispered.
“What’re you doing here?” Nolan asked.
“I told you I was going to come to one of your recitals one night.”
“It’s not to listen to music though.”
“What’s happening?” Tony asked. “Why’s Carlos after me?”
“Carlos?”
Tony glanced at his injured shoulder.
Nolan shook his head. “That wasn’t Carlos. It was one of Mendel’s men.”
“Mendel? From Alverton?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“The mark you took down the other night.”
“Yes, I know. How did he know that—”
“When you left the other night with the cheating woman, they saw you. Half the casino was watching her, waiting to see what we were going to do about her. Then you walk her out.”
“What are you going to do about her?” Tony asked.
“What’s it to you? You sweet on her?”
“What if I was?”
“Well stop it now,” Nolan said. “That relationship won’t be long term.”
“So Carlos is after her. What about me?”
“Carlos and Mendel both think you’re dead. It’d be convenient if you stayed that way.”
“So you won’t tell him?”
“Mendel wants Carlos to produce your body to avoid a war between the families. He thinks you’re dead too. I’ll let Andy know you’re fine but get out of Orsvonton.”
“There’s no other way?”
Nolan shook his head.
“I’ll miss the rest of your recitals.”
“And I’ll miss you at them, now get out of here before people see you.”
Tony left.
“Enjoy the music?” the girl at the ticketing booth asked as he left.
“Inspiring,” Tony said. “Now I need to go find somewhere to worship.”
“You could worship here.”
“I would, but you’re too young for me.” He smiled.
Outside he hailed a cabriolet. “Pacific Manor Hotel, on the Strip,” he told the driver.