"Maybe he was lying," Jerry said. "Trying to hurt you."
"The nrisoners were all kept in the warehouse," Cody said. "If he was still alive, he would have been freed in the raid, along with the rest of us. He's dead, Mr. Strauss. Denying it only prolongs the pain."
Jerry figured she was right. He put his hand on her shoulder, then walked back over to Ackroyd.
"Trying to pick up Cody at Tach's memorial service is a gesture he'd probably understand," Jay said, smiling. Jerry's shoulders slumped. "I wasn't trying to pick her up."
"I know, I know," Jay said. "What is it about tombs that makes people lose their sense of humor? Let's get out of here before someone asks us to make a speech."
Jerry sighed. "How about dinner?" He didn't feel like being alone.
"Now you're talking," Jay said. "Being morose gives me an appetite."
The pair made their way to the edge of the crowd and out onto the rain-slicked concrete. A rainbow arced over Staten Island. Jerry wondered if there would be a pot of gold on his doorstep when he got home. It was the last thing he needed.
Jerry sat alone in the private room of the Haiphong Lily. Half the Gambione family had died in this room, and he wasn't happy about the apparent thinness of the walls, but he could live with it. His look was burly, middle-aged, and Italian. The person he was meeting thought he was a Mafia kingpin from Vegas. He'd been laying the background for the disguise for several weeks.
The door slid open, and the Lily's owner ushered in a young man in a pressed dark gray suit. The man looked more Greek than Italian. His eyes and mouth were impassive and deadly. Jerry studied his face and build. Never could tell when it might come in handy.
The door closed. "Sit down," Jerry said.
"Thank you." The man unbuttoned his coat and quietly took his seat. Jerry passed him the menu. "No, thanks. I'm not here to eat."
"Whatever." Jerry ran a finger cautiously along his lower lip. "You come highly recommended."
The man shrugged. "There aren't many of us left. To still be around, you have to be the best."
Jerry nodded and pulled an envelope out of his coat pocket, then slid it across the table. Inside was everything he'd managed to find out about Latham's habits and associates in the past months and twenty thousand dollars in cash. He'd removed his fingerprints when handling the paper and didn't have any now either. "How soon can you start?"
The man opened the envelope and slowly went through the contents. "Soon as I'm out the door."
"He's heavily guarded most of the time," Jerry said. "Watch out for the kids especially."
"I'll want another twenty when I'm done." The killer carefully tucked the money back into the envelope.
Jerry nodded.
The man stood and took a step toward the door, then turned and smiled. "Want any souvenirs? I do that for free."
"No," Jerry said. "I'll save the news clippings."
The man nodded and left.
Jerry sat in the Tomlin International Airport, fidgeting in one of the plastic chairs. A newspaper was folded across his lap. Mafia Killer Found in East River was a front-page headline. Next to the story was a picture of Alex "Buttons" Parylos. Jerry should have known Latham would be too tough for one man, even a professional.
"Delta Flight twenty-three now arriving from Chicago at gate nine," came a soft voice over the public address.
Jerry bounced up from his chair and shouldered his way through to the front of the receiving area. Latham would have to wait; this was more important.
After a couple of minutes, the passengers began trickling out of the plane. After fifty or so had passed by him, Jerry panicked and wondered if he'd gotten the wrong flight number or come the wrong day. He'd made that sort of mistake before. She was almost in his arms before he saw her. She'd grown her blond hair out several inches and dropped some weight, but her smile was the same.
"Hey, bro," Beth said, setting down her blue overnight bag and giving him a big hug. "Long time no see."
Jerry squeezed Beth hard and kissed her on the forehead. Her touch and smell were both wonderful and familiar. "Too long, as far as I'm concerned. I can't believe Chicago has that much to offer."
Beth took a step back and rolled her eyes. "We're not going to go through how I don't love you anymore before dinner, are we?"
Jerry laughed. "No, before dinner is for your presents. Later on, I had you penciled-in for some serious doting. How long are you in town for this time?"
"At least a month." Beth picked up her bag and tucked her arm under his. "Presents, huh? After the baggage handlers are done with me, you can have me practically all to yourself "
Jerry knew that wasn't really true. Beth still seemed married to his brother, Kenneth, although he'd been dead for months. "After showering you with gifts, it's dinner wherever you want tonight."
Beth nudged him as they walked down the concourse. "Why, sir, you're positively the most generous multimillionaire I know," she said, in a bad Southern-belle imitation. "I'm sure you're going to spoil me for anyone else."
Jerry straightened his shoulders and let his voice slip into Clark Gable. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."
Jerry pulled the Olds up to the gate and punched in his code. He changed it every couple of days, just in case. The wrought iron creaked and opened. He eased up the drive and pulled up to the garage. The door there had a coded entry as well.
Beth wrinkled her forehead. "Is this going to open up on the Jerrycave?"
Jerry pulled into the garage and waited for the door to close again. "Rich people have been getting jumped, you know" Beth nodded. "I thought that was mostly high-profile types like Dixon."
"Mostly," Jerry said. "But you can't be too careful. They might decide to go slumming on us old-money types." He got out of the car and trotted around to her side to open the door. "Just one more set of coded locks, and we're in."
"And just in time. I need a shower." Beth ran her fingers through her hair. "This stuff needs help."
"Want any company?" Jerry had made several tame advances, but Beth had always gently declined.
She sighed and stroked his face. "I'd like that a lot, Jerry. That's the main reason I'm here."
Jerry stood motionless for a second. He hadn't really considered the possibility that she'd take him up on it. "Really?" Two syllables were all he could manage.
"Really," she said. "Now get us inside."
Jerry walked up to the door and paused with his hand over the keypad, the combination momentarily gone from his mind. His fingers took over and punched it in. The locks clicked, and Jerry opened the door.
They kept their clothes on until they got upstairs. Jerry watched her undress. Her legs were a little heavy, and she didn't have much of a waist, but he couldn't imagine a more desirable female body.
The bathroom was big enough to pitch a tent in, one of the perks of being fabulously wealthy.
"How hot do you like it?" he asked, turning on the shower. Beth smiled and gave him a peck on the lips. "Can't stop talking in movie dialogue, can you? I like it really hot to begin with. We can cool it down a bit after a while." She slid open the glass door and led him into the shower.
Jerry picked up the soap. "Want me to do your back first?"
"Sounds good." She leaned forward and let the water run over her head as Jerry began to soap her shoulders.
He worked his way down her back and paused at the base of her spine. "I hope you're not planning on missing any spots," she said.