Free The Devil's Due by Monique Martin Page B

follow the man from Musso & Frank last night, but the man just disappeared on him. Not that he would have gotten too far on foot anyway. By the time he'd circled back to the restaurant, Simon and Elizabeth were already gone.
    Jack made a few inquiries, but people were pretty tight-lipped and he didn't have enough grease in his pocket to loosen them up. He'd recognized Sam Roth from Mammoth Studios and the girl, Ruby, he'd seen her in a few pictures. He'd never seen Roth's brother, but he'd heard about him before. With that mug, he had to Benny Roth.
    Jack tried to bide his time until he was supposed to check in, but if he was honest with himself he was worried, and hungry. It was a bad combination.
    The house of cards he'd started building at seven that morning lay flat on the coffee table, having been besieged by an onslaught of flicked peanuts. The shells littered the edges of the table.
    Jack's stomach growled. Just the thought of food made him hungry. He'd eaten most of the ammunition after the house fell, but he saw one that got away tucked under the edge of the side table. He picked up the linty peanut and blew off the bit of fluff before popping it into his mouth. What he wouldn't give for a short-stack of buttermilk pancakes from The Pantry or a big plate of steak and eggs from Clifton's. Elizabeth would love that place.
    Jack tossed aside Lupe Valez and hoisted himself off the sofa and checked his watch, again. It was early, but he didn't care. He picked up the phone and tapped the cradle. The hotel switchboard operator put through the call to the Ambassador.
    “Cross?” Jack said, more relieved than he wanted to admit to hear Simon's voice. “You two all right?”
    Simon assured him they were fine and brought Jack up to speed on what little they'd learned last night at the Biltmore.
    “Sam Roth's a tough old bastard, but a straight shooter, I think. His brother, Benny though, keep an eye on that one. He's pretty well connected.”
    “Connected, as in the mob?” Simon asked.
    “Sort of. He's heavy into bootlegging and the rackets. I remember some buddies telling me stories about Benny Roth. Not pretty. He's got some powerful friends too. Be careful with him.” Jack scratched his stubbly chin. “Maybe I should do a little digging, see if I can find out what he's caught up in.”
    Simon was silent on the other end of the line. Jack could almost hear Simon thinking. “You'll be discreet?”
    Jack grinned. “Like seamless underwear.”
    “Wells—”
    “I did this for a living, remember?”
    There was another pause before Simon spoke again. “All right. After breakfast, we're going back to Grant's. We'll be out most of the day, but I'll call back for messages. If you find anything, call us.”
    “I'll check in with you by six, all right?”
    “Agreed.”
    Jack pulled his jacket from the back of a nearby chair and slipped it on while he talked. “And be careful. I don't know Grant or what he's mixed up in, but if Benny Roth's involved, you can bet it's shady.”
    “I understand.”
    “Give Elizabeth a big kiss for me.”
    “Wells—”
    “Just lay one right on her—”
    ~~~
    Simon hung up the phone and glared at it. Not that he was genuinely angry; he knew Wells was just having a go at him. Despite Simon's misgivings about bringing him with them to 1933, he trusted Jack. He'd proven to be a valuable ally in England and, much to Simon's surprise, a good friend to them both when they returned home to California. It was a bit chancy to let him wander around the city, but if what they faced here was remotely as dangerous as the things they'd faced before, having Jack work with them was well worth the risk.
    Simon moved the phone to the far side of the table and flexed his bruised knuckles. He felt a far sight better than he'd imagined he would. Elizabeth had apologized for most of the night. The memory brought a smile to his lips.
    He shook the memory away and reached for a silver cloche-covered plate