by Carsen Taite
Her hand was back on my arm. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Another woman warning me away from my own tendencies. Get in line. I shook her hand off. This one didn’t have the power to tell me what to do. “No worries. I have a plan. Maybe I’ll pay Geno Vedda a visit. You may not care about the truth, but I bet he will.”
I strode past Blondie and willed a plan to form. Nothing about weddings and dates, only business. I’d been kidding about Vedda, but maybe it wasn’t a joke. After all, who would have the biggest stake in finding the real killer? Geno Vedda, of course.
Was he even missing? Funny how Diamond didn’t seem as hot on finding him as she had when she’d shown up on my doorstep over a week ago. I may not know where to find Geno, but I knew where I could find his dad. Lunchtime tomorrow, I’d be pitching my theory about Petrov to the head of the Vedda family, hopefully over a big platter of Mangia crab claws.
After I left the federal building, I did what was becoming my usual loop around Dallas looking for signs of Shaw, including a trip to Black Lace. The girls there recognized him, but they didn’t have a clue about how to get in touch. Maybe his night away from Shante and Dalia had been a one-night stand. Hope he’d worn a condom or there’d be one more baby mamma waiting on him to get out of the pen.
Tired and hungry, I picked up a pizza and a six-pack and headed home. I changed into sweats to watch TV on one of the two channels that came in on my ancient TV. I was the best date I would ever have.
*
When I woke up close to lunchtime the next morning surrounded by empty beer cans and dried up pizza crusts, the thought of crab claws made my stomach turn. Maybe I wasn’t my own best date after all. The pain in my head at the sound of my ringing phone confirmed it.
“Yeah?”
“Luca, it’s Bingo.”
I sat up, surprised. I didn’t think he’d ever called me on the phone before. Then I remembered that I’d left my number on the note with the names of the lawyers Hardin had provided. “Whatcha need?”
“I talked to a couple of those lawyers. They want big bucks to take a murder case. I’m thinking I should just go downtown by myself, talk to the cops, and see what we can work out. Can you talk to your friend? The one who came with you the other night?”
That was a loaded question. “Probably not a good idea. She’s not on the case anymore. The Feds have taken over and you definitely don’t want to go marching into their offices. Best advice. Sit tight and don’t talk to anyone.” Too bad Ronnie Moreno wasn’t still in town. I’d make her take Bingo’s case pro bono after all the trouble she’d been. But she was in D.C., so I’d have to solve this one on my own. Guess I’d have to try to stomach the crab claws. “I have an idea. I’ll call you when I have some news.”
Mangia wasn’t too terribly busy yet, but again I told the hostess I’d order from the bar instead of taking a table. The same blond bartender was pouring drinks, and she still reminded me of Jess. I ordered a beer, mostly so I could take my time scoping out the place, but I enjoyed the fact she was easy on the eyes. I was surrounded by folks that looked hungry, not vigilant. Not a one of them looked like guards for a mobster. Maybe Anthony Vedda was having lunch somewhere else today. A half a beer later, I left my barstool to find out.
The unmarked room was where I remembered it, but this time it was guarded by a tall, bald guy with big bulges under his suit coat. I had bulges of my own, but the kitchen of a popular restaurant is no place for a shootout. I decided to start with words and resort to guns only if necessary. “I’m Luca Bennett. I’d like to talk to Mr. Vedda.”
He stared at me, through me really, but didn’t move a muscle. Acted like he hadn’t even heard me. I stared back, feeling a little foolish for engaging in this childish game. Just when I was about to break—damn, this guy was good—the door opened. I recognized the guy who came out. He was one of the ones around Vedda’s table when I’d been here the last time. He glanced between me and Staring Man, apparently undecided about the situation.
I stuck a hand out at him and he took it on impulse. “Luca Bennett. I’m here to see Mr. Vedda.”
He nodded and ducked back in the room, shutting the door behind him. I wasn’t sure whether to wait or give up, but he was back before I could give it a lot of thought. He told Staring Man to frisk me, and a minute later, he’d taken all my guns. All the ones he found anyway. I had a tiny .22 and a switchblade in my boots. No one ever seemed to check there.
I was ushered into the room, but I could tell right off the bat, hospitality was not the word of the day. Cruel and unusual punishment. The table was full of wonderful food, but I wasn’t offered a seat. Anthony Vedda slowly chewed his food and carefully wiped his lips with a linen napkin before deigning to address me.
“Ms. Bennett, your former calling card is no good to you now.”
Bingo. “I think that’s a mistake.”
“Oh, you do? Are you saying that I make mistakes?”
“Everyone makes mistakes. Especially if they don’t have all the available information.”
“Indeed. What a wise observation.” He was mocking me. He waved a hand to the other men sitting around the table. “Why don’t you enlighten us? Tell us all the information, so that we may refrain from making mistakes in the future.”
“Bingo didn’t kill Geno’s—” I searched for a word that sounded more acceptable than hoods. “Employees.”
“And I suppose you know who did?”
“I have a good idea. Based on my observations.” I couldn’t help myself. “I think Yuri Petrov had Amato and Picone killed. Dumped them at Bingo’s place to shut him down. Petrov was trying to take over the house for his own purposes, and Bingo resisted.” Okay, that was a slight exaggeration since Bingo wasn’t a resisting kind of guy. “Amato and Picone were in the way. He had them killed and left them at Bingo’s place to teach him a lesson.”
“Interesting story. You have proof of this?”
“Bingo is not a killer.”
He waved a hand, dismissing me. “You have no proof.”
“I have no proof.” Pretty sure that even if I’d held on to the gold coin, it wouldn’t have made an impression. “Only my word that Petrov personally told me about his interest in Bingo’s business, and we both know Petrov can be very persistent about his business. He wanted sole control.”
“Yet, you thought it was a good idea to come here today?”
I almost cracked that I’d hoped I could wrangle a good meal out of it, but the sense of humor in the room was lower than low. I took my best shot. “I guess you don’t care if Petrov takes over your business.”
“I am no longer a businessman. I am retired. I do not have interests outside of good food”—he picked up a glass—“good wine, and spending time with good friends. Perhaps you should develop similar interests instead of pursuing matters that do not concern you.”
What had started as a friendly sounding spiel ended with a harsh tone, and I could tell I was being dismissed. No crab claws for me. But I didn’t want to leave empty-handed. “Okay, I get it, but what about Geno? Don’t you think he’d be interested in hearing what I have to say?”
“My son is not your concern.” He paused to take a sip of wine. “And if you choose to make him your concern, you will become mine.” He offered a fierce stare that turned into an engaging smile so quickly I had to question whether it had happened in the first place. “I trust you will find other pursuits. More profitable ones, less dangerous.” He raised his glass in a mock toast. “To life!”
I got it. Both the overt and covert threats. And the dismissal. Keep asking questions, keep looking for Geno, and they would take me out. The Vedda family had something to hide, and I’ll be damned if I was going to let it stay hidden.
Chapter Twenty
Thursday morning, after my run, two giant cups of black coffee, and a donut the size of my head, I took to the Internet to find out whatever I could about Geno Vedda. Nothing pisses me off more than being to
ld not to do something. I got why Anthony Vedda might not believe my theory, but I’d be damned if he thought he could wave me off the case. I was damn frustrated at the lack of response from anyone. Vedda had pretty much ignored my theory, Diamond had moved on to other matters, Jess and John were off the case, and so far Petrov hadn’t taken the bait I’d left for him.
My searches didn’t turn up anything I didn’t already know. Geno’s front was the restaurant industry, but everyone assumed he ran a ton of underground enterprises that made him the big bucks he was known for. He probably had at least a dozen setups like the one at Bingo’s. I’d need to be a lot better connected if I wanted to find Geno, let alone talk to him. Guess I’d hoped that I’d get his father all riled and then he’d call his son and unleash him on Petrov. They’d duke it out and Bingo would be vindicated.
Not a very well thought out plan. Even if Vedda took on Petrov, whoever emerged victorious wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about Bingo. Did I really think one of them would march up to the Feds and say, “Hey, it was so and so, not Bingo. Make sure you clear his good name, okay?”
Not gonna happen. But if one of them admitted it to me, I could be a witness. Maybe someone would believe me.
In an effort to keep from getting riled, I told myself I’d worry about it when the time came. Right now I needed to focus on finding Shaw. I inspected my coffee can and pulled out some cash. The bank was getting low. I’d need to find Shaw if I was going to keep eating, and I’d need to eat if I was going to have the energy to take him down. Chicken, egg. Looked like a trip to Maggie’s was first thing on my list.
After a stare down, she compromised by bringing me a cheeseburger and a salad. No fries. On the house. Since I wasn’t paying, I didn’t gripe, but the salad went untouched. I’m always hearing news stories about salmonella from lettuce, but I’d never heard of an outbreak of food poisoning after French fries. Give me a good batch of grease any day of the week.
Maggie sat across the table and stared while I worked my way through the non healthy portions of my meal. She had a goofy grin on her face, so between bites I asked, “What’s up?”
“I’m excited about the wedding. Aren’t you?”
Uh no, I wasn’t. Nervous maybe, but excited? Not really. I knew that wasn’t the appropriate answer. “It’ll be nice. I guess.”
“It’ll be more than nice. Fancy flowers, fancy church. Mark’s bride is beautiful. It will be a splendid day.”
I almost threw up a little in my mouth. Who knew Maggie was a sentimental freak? Did I dare tell her I was kind of dreading the big event? I was supposed to wear a tux, give a toast, and who knows what else, but everything on the list was completely foreign to me. I risked a tiny overture. “I’ve never been to a wedding before, let alone had to do anything at one of them. Any pointers?”
Should’ve kept my mouth shut. Or brought along a notebook and pen to write down the long litany of tasks and pointers Maggie reeled off. When she finally stopped talking, all I could remember was I was supposed to hold on to the ring until Mark needed it, make sure he didn’t chicken out, and say something nice to the happy couple in front of loads of people during the reception. Tall list. No wonder I was anxious. Friend in trouble, big role at wedding, Jess in the clutches of a viper. I had a lot going on.
As if on cue, more trouble walked in the door. Petrov had sent the same two guys. Probably their punishment for not getting me to comply the first time. I pushed my now empty plate away and stood. Maggie followed my gaze and said, “Uh oh.”
I pointed a finger at the booth. “You stay here. I mean it.” I didn’t trust her not to fly at them like a bat out of hell. I’d started this rumble. If anything happened to her because of it, I’d never forgive myself.
I met them halfway from the door. “Gentlemen, let’s take this outside.”
Thug Number One nodded and waved a hand to usher me out. Petrov’s Bentley was waiting. Thug One patted me down, took the Colt and a look down my shirt, probably making sure I wasn’t wearing a wire, and then motioned for me to climb in. He crawled in after me, and I found myself in the middle of a thug sandwich, facing Petrov and his fancy dog.
Petrov spoke first. “You know where I live, yes? You cannot just come to see me instead of causing trouble at my club?”
“I have a phobia about big houses. Besides, your house isn’t a good place to speak freely.” He raised his eyebrows. “The Feds are listening in.”
“And you know this because?”
I wanted to establish credibility, but I didn’t want to go so far as to throw Diamond under the bus. Petrov had a lot of reasons to want her completely out of the picture. I pulled a lie out of my ass. “Bingo is my friend and his lawyer has connections. Not everyone is so good at keeping secrets. You arranged the hit on Vedda’s guys and set Bingo up to take the fall. I get that it’s all just business to you, but like I said, Bingo is my friend.”
A slow smile crept across Petrov’s face and I wanted to punch it off. The thugs seated next to me must have sensed my agitation because they leaned forward, like they were ready to body block me from the big guy.
“You have a lot of nerve, accusing me of murder.” He flicked a glance at his bodyguards.
“It’s not like it’s a secret. Since your house is bugged, the Feds already know. Just a matter of time until they arrest you.”
“Yet, they haven’t.” He leaned forward. “My house is clean. I spend good money to make sure it is a safe place. Daily. And I didn’t set up your friend. He was my friend as well, and working with him was profitable. I do not cut off my nose to spite my face. But there is nothing I can do for him now. His situation has attracted too much attention, and he is no help to me anymore. If you want someone to blame, you should look elsewhere.” He waved a hand at his burly friends and the one closest to him opened the door while Petrov dismissed me. “Now, I suggest you go find something else to do. My business is no longer your concern.”
I stood in the parking lot, slowly digesting what he’d had to say. He had to be bluffing. Of course, I was probably crazy to think he’d cop to murder. I guess I just thought he might do a little bragging. Guys like him think they are untouchable. But something he said lingered: “working with him was profitable.” He hadn’t worked with Bingo. Vedda was working with Bingo. Petrov wanted in, had even come to me to get Bingo to work with him, had shown up at Bingo’s with his you-owe-me gold coin, but Bingo was too scared of Vedda to get in the middle. The only way Petrov could’ve been making a profit at Bingo’s was if he were in business with Vedda and that was unlikely. Guys like Vedda and Petrov don’t share.
Vedda. Maybe his guys were working against him and he offed them himself. Maybe Vedda thought Bingo was helping Amato and Picone betray him. The more I maybed the situation, the more I liked the idea. Neat and tidy. Now, someone just needed to prove it and Bingo would be in the clear.
Wait a minute, if the Feds knew Amato and Picone were dead based on chatter and they weren’t listening to Petrov, then they must have been listening to Vedda. Which meant Diamond and her seeking justice pals already knew Vedda had taken out his own guys. She had the means to clear Bingo right now, but instead she’d ripped the case from local law enforcement and was holding on until she could get something bigger out of it. She wasn’t worried about Bingo getting charged because she knew he wouldn’t be, but she didn’t care if she left him twisting in the wind.
If this was all true, then I should be relieved that Bingo would come out okay. Problem was I didn’t trust Diamond. Not enough to leave Bingo’s fate in her hands. I could think of only one person I trusted completely, and I dialed her number before Petrov even made it out of the parking lot.
*
Jess showed up only twenty minutes after I called. Considering she lived thirty minutes away, I guess I’d exaggerated the urgency of the situation.
I’d thought about asking her to meet me at my place, but my place was for fucking, and since we didn’t do that anymore, I
settled on Maggie’s. Only risk here was Maggie asking nosy questions about why I didn’t ask the nice, pretty cop on a date. After Jess had helped her brother out, Maggie thought she was golden. She didn’t understand why I didn’t put a ring on her finger and march down the aisle.
Whatever.
Maggie practically skipped on the way to seat us in the best booth in the place, and then hurried off to get our beers. Likely she’d show up with her own and try to dominate the conversation so I launched right in.
“Petrov just came to see me. He didn’t have anything to do with Bingo’s situation. At least not the dead guys in the living room part of it. You need to talk to whoever you can and yank this thing back from the Feds.”
Jess held up a hand. “Slow down. You’re talking crazy. What? Petrov paid you a visit and charmed you into thinking he’s a great guy?”
“It’s not like that.”
I managed to get the story of my visit to Diamond and Petrov’s visit to me out before Maggie reappeared. In addition to three beers, she served up a big plate of fried onion rings because she knew they were Jess’s favorite. Sucking up to potential girlfriends for me meant healthy eating went out the window. I was cool with that. Maggie settled into the booth next to me and motioned for us to continue our conversation. “Eat, talk. Don’t mind me. I’ll just keep you company.”
She stayed put through my annoyed stare, so I kept talking. “It makes perfect sense. Diamond said they’d heard chatter about Amato and Picone—the guys found dead at Bingo’s place,” I added for Maggie’s benefit. “I assumed they’d had Petrov’s place wired, but they’re listening in on Vedda.”
“I thought you said Geno Vedda was missing.”
“I think she lied to me about that. Maybe she was just trying to get me interested, like if I thought by looking for his guys, I might also find Geno, then I’d be more likely to take on the case.”