The Madam had this set of sharp, sword-like hairpins the Willow girls all knew. She’d used them for all sorts of fun purposes. Poking, prodding, and threatening, mostly, but she’d also removed a girl’s fingernails with them once, too. She must have dropped this one in her haste to get away the other day, and now it was sitting here among Junior’s scalpels, saws, clamps, and forceps. An accidental gift from one sadist to another.
The man moaned thickly on the gurney, reminding them all he was still conscious, like one of those guys who had lost half his body in an explosion but still had the lack of luck to keep on breathing, even with all of his organs on the outside of his body. There was a point where such a thing stopped becoming an admirable will to live and started looking more like a very cruel joke.
“Why won’t you just let him die? Don’t you understand he wasn’t here to hurt anyone? He was just looking for me.” God knew why. Had her mother sent him? Unthinkable but not exactly impossible. Kali’s fingers dug into her shoulder as a warning, but Nina barely felt it this time. She was too pissed at what she was seeing here. Kali was afraid too, but Kali was a coward.
Junior glared at her and walked over to his tray of instruments, picking up a scalpel. Kali yanked Nina’s hands behind the chair and started binding them with the rope of the leash still around her neck in sort of a half hog tie. “What are you doing?” Nina asked.
“You will never learn compliance,” Kali said.
A nightmare of images flashed through her mind as Junior leaned in closer, the blood-crusted metal of the blade still managing to gleam in the sickly light. She thought she understood now why Junior brought her down here. He wanted her to witness what he was capable of, how far he could take someone to the edge of madness and agony and still keep them alive. He could turn living muscles into puppet strings, he could melt off skin with caustic chemicals, he could take their eyes out and replace them with painted white balls.
He could make life cling to his victims like hungry leeches.
He’d just been toying with her before, doing some sick and twisted version of a Mother Theresa act because for whatever reason, he felt soft toward her, even as he mutilated her womanhood and kept her strapped to the bed or tied ropes to her limbs and made her dance with his dead daddy. He was telling her she had to find a way to endear herself to him again, that he would take every single thing she could live without, just enough to keep her heart beating so he could take the baby inside her. And after he did that, then what?
Probably turn that into one of his little puppet people, too. Hell, it’s already attached to its own little string.
As the blood crusted scalpel blade neared her eye, she said the only thing that came immediately to her mind. “I love you.”
The scalpel stopped and then faltered.
“I love you,” she said again. “I’m sad no one else has loved you, and that you have to hurt people in order to get the same feeling most of us get when we love each other. If you…”
Come on, you idiot, finish the deal!
“If you show this man mercy by killing him, I will stay with you. Forever. I will marry myself to you and have your child. We can live here. Like a family. All four of us.”
She felt herself growing colder as she spoke, her stomach doing flip-flops. But the scalpel wasn’t getting any closer, which was something. To her astonishment, the Beauty and the Beast routine was actually working. She took a deep breath and leaned forward and kissed the cool flesh of his arm. He grunted and jerked, but she kissed him again higher up, and his hand gripped the back of her head, pulling her hair painfully. She used to like that, long ago, but now her skin rippled in revulsion. Suddenly, his mouth was on hers, and she tasted the fetid depths of him as he breathed into her mouth and jabbed his tongue forward in a rotten meat kiss. His sharp teeth cut into her lips and she immediately tasted blood, but she closed her eyes tight and kissed him back, the collective voices in her head, including Janie Quick’s, screaming from pain and sheer disgust. She hoped her moans and hardening nipples passed as arousal rather than the chills currently worming like maggots through her gut.
Finally, he ripped himself away, his mouth covered in blood like clown makeup, and yanked her up from the chair by her arm. All strength. His nails dug into her flesh as he turned her around and cut the binding away from her wrists. She had just a moment to see Kali’s face, a mixture of fright and suspicion. And something else . . . Jealousy? He whirled her back around and pushed her toward the man.
She stumbled forward and crashed into the tray of instruments, which tumbled to the floor in a metallic clatter. But she’d acted just quickly enough to save herself from falling, and to grab the thing she had been eyeballing a moment before. She concealed it carefully in her fist, hoping beyond all reason they didn’t see it. A magician she was not. Her clumsy hands had netted her a brief stay in jail when she’d attempted to pick pockets in her early New York days. Before Joey. Before everything. But in the bare seconds she had with her back turned, she deftly slid the hairpin in the only place available to her: beneath one of her breasts. Easy enough due to the sleeveless gown she was wearing. She just hoped there was enough sweat there to hold it in place. The cold metal so close to her heart was both comforting and exhilarating.
Junior grabbed her again and turned her around. He sniffed her, running one of his fingernails down her chest, toying briefly with the nipple of the breast that was now concealing what she hoped would be her ticket out of this place. She didn’t dare breathe. If the two inches of steel slipped loose right now, he would flay her open without a second’s hesitation. But then Junior did the inexplicable. He placed the scalpel into her hands.
Kali called out. “No, don’t!”
Nina wasn’t sure if the woman was referring to the scalpel or if she was trying to alert him to the thievery, but Junior turned to her and growled, baring his pointed teeth at her. Kali fell back a step and bowed her head. Then Junior looked at Nina and said, “You. Kill it.”
Her heart sped up and she looked at the mutilated man, who now appeared to be unconscious. His breath was coming out in slow rattles. He might have come here to save her, and she would see to it that he hadn’t failed in his mission, even if he lost his life in the bargain. Junior was testing her loyalty right now, though. If she wanted to, she could just as easily turn the blade on him, open up his throat and let the poison running through his veins spray out.
But she would not do that. Not yet.
Nina had done a lot of bad things in her life, but she’d never killed anyone before, at least directly. She noted the irony that in doing so, it would probably be the most compassionate thing she ever did. After all, this was her fault. The series of events leading to this man’s death all began when she decided it would be a good idea for her and Joey to rob some mobster’s warehouse in Queens. She grasped the handle of the blade in her hand, still warm from Junior’s hand, and stepped up to the man. There was no question about the quickest way to make it end for him.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured and raised the blade to the man’s neck, where the flesh was, for the most part, still intact. She could even see a few days’ worth of beard growth.
The scalpel was sharp, but it still took a little work to get through the flesh. Nothing was ever as easy as it looked on TV. He made a gargling sound as the gash in his throat grew deeper. Then the artery opened and his blood flew out and warmed her face. He shuddered on the gurney for a moment, the air filling with the stink of his urine and whatever remained in his bowels as they let go. Then he lay still. Dead.
She turned to Junior, letting the scalpel fall from her blood-soaked hand.
“Thank you,” she said. And she meant it. He looked at her for a moment and then pushed her back toward Kali. The freak and his assistant seemed to understand one another without speaking, for Kali took her by the remainder of her leash and led her away.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I don’t like it. I
don’t like it one little bit,” the woman said.
“I’m trying to save our asses.”
“You don’t need to worry about mine.”
She pushed Nina toward the stairs and she climbed them, her legs trembling as she went. When she reached the top, Nina stopped and reached under her breast and clasped the Madam’s hairpin. “You know, I think you’re right.” She turned around and, hoping with every fiber of her being she wouldn’t miss, aimed the pointed tip of the little dagger right at the bitch’s eye and stabbed.
Kali screamed and Nina felt a squish. Bullseye. Junior’s screams echoed up from down below. The woman’s arms flailed, grabbing for purchase as she reeled backward over the abyss of the basement steps. Her eyes adjusted well over time to dim light, and Nina could see the end of the miniature handle of the knife jutting from Kali’s eye socket. With the heel of her hand, she pushed it all the way in, burying it in the woman’s brain. Kali spasmed, her grip tightening on the rope around Nina’s neck as she fell back the way she came, pulling Nina with her. Her air cut off as she gripped the doorjamb.
Just then, Junior appeared at the bottom of the steps, fury branding his horrible face. Risking everything and gambling on her last deep breath, she yanked herself back as hard as she could and slammed the basement door shut just as he reached the top of the stairs.
The rope had loosened around her neck, but it was still shut in the door. Nina pushed her weight against it as Junior beat against the wood, screaming, nearly pushing it open, his hand groping out to grab her. Nina’s mind a racing terror, she clawed at the doorknob to check for a lock, but found nothing. Soon, her strength would give out and he would break through and he would end her.
Just as the last of her strength ran out and Nina surrendered to her fate, bright light filled the kitchen that, to her sensitive eyes, was as powerful as the sun.
Chapter 18
Ramón and the Madam
He didn’t have a precise plan when he walked into the Blue Diamond. Just a final destination in mind. He quickly glanced into The Nile Tavern and wasn’t surprised to find a young man working behind the bar. Of course Jessie wouldn’t be there, but he had to scratch the itch. He walked up to the reservation desk, where a young woman in a dark blue jacket and red scarf stood waiting with a professional smile. “Can I help you, sir?”
“I’m Ramón Gutierrez. Here to see Mr. Rosen. I have an appointment.”
“Certainly. Follow me.”
She led him past the bank of elevators to a room filled with dark wood and leather. It reminded him a lot of the Madam’s office at the Weeping Willow, only without all the nude paintings. “Mr. Rosen will be down shortly. Help yourself to a drink, if you like. The bar is over there.”
“Thank you.”
He watched her walk off, taking a second to admire the pretty legs coming out of her skirt, but he did not help himself to a drink, nor did he sit. This wasn’t a sitting man’s errand. He intended for this to be quick.
“Mr. Gutierrez?”
Ramón turned around to see a young man, a kid really, with a thinning head of dark curly hair standing in the doorway. He was short. Shorter than the Madam, Ramón thought, and wearing a gray suit that looked like it had been tailored for someone forty pounds heavier. Maybe he’d recently lost weight, or maybe he was too cheap to have his clothes properly fitted. So this was Benny Rosen, the lunatic Jonny Spank told him about? Ramón wanted to laugh. Instead he said, “Yeah, that’s me.”
Rosen closed the door and walked over to shake his hand. Ramón obliged. The man’s grip was overly tight, like he was trying to compensate for being puny.
“I have to say, I was a little surprised to get a call from you. I’ve heard about you.” He walked to the bar, casual and seemingly ignorant of what was about to befall him. This was not a real Mafia man. If he was visiting Victor Cassini, he would have been frisked for weapons first thing, and they wouldn’t be alone. There would be two or three beefcakes guarding the door, hands hovering over holsters in case something went wrong. This man didn’t even appear to have an entourage. Ramón didn’t know if he should celebrate these favorable conditions or be more cautious. Maybe this right here was evidence Rosen was crazy. Or maybe he was just stupid.
“I bet the Madam spoke highly of me,” Ramón said.
“Hardly. Would you like a drink? I have some primo tequila here, and you look like a tequila man.”
Ramón actually hated tequila, but he was thrown a little off his game by the sudden shift of his expectations. “Sure.” He watched as Rosen pulled the cork out of a squat rounded bottle of liquid fire and poured them each a shot.
“One of my guys brought this stuff back from a little village near Baja. You know Baja?”
Ramón swallowed. “I do, yes.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t there right now. Man who got away with a steal like you did should be living it up on some unknown beach. But I guess you’ve had troubles getting out of the country.”
He didn’t like this. Rosen was controlling the conversation, and Ramón suddenly wasn’t sure what his next move should be. This was obviously the smaller man’s strength, and he understood now why there was no need for the extra manpower.
“Yeah, troubles.” He took the drink from Rosen’s outstretched hand and tasted it. Even for tequila, it felt good going down.
“How can I help?”
“Help?”
Rosen sipped his drink and gave a satisfied sigh. “Smooth as silk. Yes, help. Though I suspect you came here to kill me, which would be a very foolish thing to do.” His eyes glanced up to the ceiling, where a tiny black fish eye was looking down on them. “I have no fewer than thirty security guards with their eyes on this place. And you don’t strike me as a fool, Ramón.”
He wasn’t sure what to say. All of his intentions suddenly seemed very hollow. “Look, I have nothing left to bargain with. The money I had, which I would have used to pay for your assistance, was taken from me.”
Rosen laughed. “Stolen money is cursed money. If that’s not a famous proverb, it should be.” He carried his glass over to the humidor sitting beside one of the big leather couches and took one. “Cigar, Ramón? They’re the good kind.”
He shook his head. “No. Look, this was a mistake. I think I should just leave.” Yes, leave. Just take the two hundred bucks to a casino floor—not this one—and see if he could make it grow big enough to help him live for a while. He could get by. He’d survived on far less before.
“Leave? Listen, Ramón. I don’t believe in mistakes. I believe in opportunities. Serendipity. I don’t play sides. I’m not one of these mia familia types. Tradition is far too limiting. I’m a businessman, and I’m a futurist. You need to cut the apron strings once and for all and look at the opportunities.”
Ramón swirled the tequila in his glass and downed it. “What’s your opportunity?”
“Now we’re talking. Have a seat.” He gestured to the couch and Ramón sat. He felt the press of the concealed pistol against his back and ignored it. Rosen probably knew it was there, and he was too intrigued now to consider murdering the guy. At least for now.
“I don’t know for certain, but I think there’s been a big shakeup in the house of Cassini. Or there’s going to be. Contessa—you know, the Madam—has been out of touch for a couple days. She and I had grown close, but my instincts are telling me the business relationship we were forming is dead in the water.”
Ramón frowned. “How so?”
“I had a talk with one of my drivers, and let’s just say she had a bit of a scare at a place upstate I’m sure you know and love.”
A cold chill rippled through Ramón’s body. She actually went up there? Even after all this time, she wanted to try and get what was hers. Christ.
“What happened to her?”
“Can’t say for sure. My man only saw so much from his vantage point, and I believe him. She did make it out alive. Barely. But she’s been refusing my calls ever sinc
e. Something definitely rattled her. I had no choice but to call Victor in on the matter, out of concern for her wellbeing, you see. He and I have been finalizing an investment on the construction of a casino in Shanghai, so naturally, I felt it my duty to let him know that his sister was in danger. Despite my better sense, I do have a soft spot for the lady. But I have a theory. Would you like to hear it?”
Ramón found it hard to believe Victor would be dealing with a man like this, but if it was true, then Rosen had considerably more power and pull than Ramón anticipated. He was fascinated in spite of himself, and still not entirely sure what Rosen had planned for him. “Sure,” he said.
“I’ve gotten to know Contessa a bit over the last several weeks, and I can say that when she feels threatened, she can get more than a little . . . feisty. That made for some fun moments between us in bed, but I won’t titillate you with the details.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Suffice to say, I believe I may have effectively set into motion a bit of a chain reaction, and if I were a betting man—and I guess I am, considering my line of work—I would put my chips on the Madam coming out on top. Would you agree?”
He thought about it a bit. Victor was a ruthless dog, or at least had been back in the day, but he suspected the Madam had bigger axes to grind, having been forced to run the family brothel while her brother controlled everything else. She was also younger, and even weakened by her recent injuries, he thought she might have the edge if the knives came out.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Now, let’s assume she does manage to win in her little dogfight with the boss man. What does she do next? The woman was left without a dime. Victor cleaned her out, and who knows where he stashed her spoils. It’s why she came to me in the first place. I guess I have a welcome mat out for the northern syndicate’s newly downtrodden, but I digress. Keep in mind the dear Madam has some unfinished business at that house and not a cent to her name. And there’s a veritable goldmine just an hour’s drive from her doorstep. Granted, there’s a lunatic troll guarding the keep, but I don’t think that’ll faze her the second time around.”
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