can’t stop it, maybe the environmental groups can tie up Florio with a lawsuit. The way the courts work, it’d take years, and by then, he could lose his financing or be focused on other deals. It happens all the time.”
That sounded familiar. “That’s what Gina said Nicky was worried about, an environmental suit. Nicky must have been infuriated that somebody he considered a pipsqueak could wield such power…”
“Motive,” Charlie mused. “Would that be sufficient motive to kill a man, to keep him from suing?”
I didn’t answer. My attention was diverted.
“Jake?”
Charlie’s gaze followed mine. On a balcony above us, uniformed employees scanned the floor of the bingo hall. A man and a woman stood at the railing. He was in his thirties with thick sun-bleached hair tied back in a pony tail. He wore one of those shapeless black sport coats with the sleeves pushed up. Thick, veined forearms. Even from here, I could make out a diamond-stud earring sparkling in the glare of the overhead lights.
Pretty-boy looks with a bonecrusher jawline to keep from being too pretty. He wasn’t smiling, but I imagined perfect pearly whites, one of those guys with a natural ease with women. I’d been around enough to recognize the type, an oily charm, all his brains in his bikini briefs.
The man said something to the woman, who touched his sleeve and laughed. She said something back to him, and it must have been hilarious, too. If this were the 1940s, you would say they were laughing gaily. I’d been right. The guy had a great grin.
Their eyes locking on each other, they didn’t look our way. Or any other way. There is the cliché about lovers being alone in a crowd. But like a lot of clichés, it is based on truth. The rest of the world be damned. Sirens could be wailing, the building could be ablaze. No matter.
I had seen the look in a woman’s eyes before. I had seen the look in
this
woman’s eyes before.
Next to me, Charlie was stirring. “Say, Jake, isn’t that Star…?”
“Gina,” I said.
“Whatever. Unless my old eyes deceive me, that ponytailed gentleman is not her husband.”
“Rick Gondolier, and he’s no gentleman,” I said. “He handles Nicky’s gambling business.”
“Perhaps that’s not all of Nicky’s that he handles. Goodness, boy, do you know your neck and ears have turned quite red? Either you have a touch of dengue fever, or…”
Gondolier leaned close, and the two of them gently kissed. Not a passionate kiss. Only their lips touched. But the kiss lingered and seemed to reflect a silent affirmation of something more. I am not an expert on body language, but I know a thing or two about kissing. This one spoke of a comfort level between the two, of a naturalness. It clearly said that they were lovers.
“Jake, you’re not involved with that woman again, are you?”
That woman
sounded like a communicable disease. I didn’t answer him.
Charlie sighed. “
Amantes sunt amentes.
Lovers are such lunatics.”
They turned around, Gondolier’s hand lightly falling across Gina’s shoulder, guiding her. Then they stepped away from the railing and disappeared.
“Well, now,” Charlie said, “isn’t that the man you wanted to see, the one in charge of the gambling?”
“I’ve seen enough,” I said, and started for the exit. I didn’t stop to fill out a raffle ticket or try my luck at the electronic slots.
Charlie trundled after me, straining to keep up. “A bit huffy, are we?”
I didn’t say a word.
“If you ask me—”
“No one has,” I told him.
“…Nicky’s the one who should be jealous, not you. What’s the legal term, Jake? You have no standing, isn’t that it? You’re not a party to the transaction.”
I pushed through the door to the parking lot with Charlie on my heels. I stopped short, turned, and looked down at my old friend. “Charlie, do me a favor. Stick to the fingerprints and the bodily fluids, and the other stuff you know. You’re out of