The Most Dangerous Dame

Ben the Bear smirked, working his fingers so the tendons cracked like walnuts. No-Nose Nate shifted behind me, no doubt placing his hand on the concealed pistol in his pocket. I had forgotten about Scars because he had slunk into the shadows in the corner of the room like some half-starved vampire. His eyes glimmered with the anticipation of violence. The Black Widow wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, gazing at me with smoldering passion for something other than sex. I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know what it was. I guess a normal person would have felt pretty intimidated right about then. But I was neither.

I looked Flacco in the eyes. “Yeah, that’s how it went down. And I’m not a shade sorry for it, either. When someone crosses off folks I care about, I’ll put them down by any means necessary. I apologize if my business got mixed up in yours, but I’d do it again if the same situation repeated itself.”

Flacco stared at me for a long, stress-building moment. Then he laughed. “You see? This man has a major set. You were right, Nate. Your friend: oobatz.” He made the appropriate whirly gesture as the others laughed on cue, killing the tension in the room.

The laughter cut off as Flacco got serious, leaning over the desk. “Ok, Mick. Here’s the lay: Pike’s enterprises proved fruitful, so I benefited from your case of temporary insanity. He was eating alone anyway, didn’t want to be taxed. I would’ve had to come after him sooner or later anyway. And the crew that took the hit were animals — bad apples that were attracting too much attention. So the benefits to me outweighed the losses in your mad little caper. But whether you intended or not, you screwed me over and got away with it. The only people who know that are in this room, which is why you’re sitting there instead of being hauled out of the West River with your major set stuffed in your mouth. See? But don’t think that means you can walk around with your chest out like you’re untouchable. You’re not. From this point on until my daughter’s killer is found, you work for me. Capeesh?

I shrugged. “I got no kick with that, Moe. I was on the case regardless.”

“That’s the second reason why I’m willing to give you a pass. You’re a man that gets to the bottom of things. I remember that missing kid case — the Mannering girl. Brass was all over that, but you were the one who turned the right stones over. Got the job done. I got all kinds of operatives, but they don’t exactly have a subtle touch. But you… you got a knack for these type of situations. So you do whatever it is you do. Just make sure you report back to me. Because I’m not looking to put nobody behind bars. No deals with the brass, no lawyers, no trial. This is Omerta, you understand? Whoever made a move against my little girl is gonna pay in blood, and I want to be right there when it happens. Whether it’s a single person or an entire family, mark my words: they are going down.”

I stood, making sure to tilt my Bogart just the way I liked it. “I’ll make sure to stay in touch.”

“You’ll do better than that.” Flacco jerked a thumb behind him. “Benny here will be your partner. You’ll work the case with him, and he’ll keep me informed.”

Ben the Bear’s face split in a wide grin. “I appreciate this honor, Zio. I’m all over this, I swear.”

No-Nose Nate rubbed a finger alongside his metallic prosthetic. “You sure you don’t want someone else, Moe? The kid hasn’t had a lotta experience with these kind of gigs.” He ignored Benny’s sullen glare.

“Benny won’t let us down.” Flacco gave his nephew a meaningful glance. “Will you, Benny?”

Benny shook his massive head. “No sir. I’ll do whatever it takes to help Mr. Trubble out.”

I didn’t say anything, but inside I winced big time. Flacco had just handicapped me with an obvious rookie and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. You didn’t just refuse the Don of New Haven. Not if you wanted to keep all your parts inside of your body.

A gleaming floater slid up outside the window via the transparent lift from the garage. It was an onyx dream of sleek curves and vintage design. The chrome gleamed, reflecting the winking city lights, while the interior was cushioned red leather. Although the floater was equipped with the standard propulsion kit to fly across the city, the shell was a throwback — Bentley Mark VI Cabriolet, if memory served me right. Which it always does. I remember everything except my past, and when you have a talent like that you take full advantage by stuffing it with trivial nonsense like antique cars and weapons from the pre-Cataclysm age. What else is a photographic memory good for?

“Benny will take you where you want to go,” Flacco said. “Consider him your personal soldati. He’ll watch your back just as he would mine.”