High tea with Tony Marcus.
“Can’t prove he was behind it.”
“You know he was. Was me, I’d do something about that.”
“I’m not you.”
Tony sipped more of his tea. At least he didn’t stick out a pinkie.
“Here’s what I know about Roarke,” Marcus said. “He’s getting his nuts squeezed by the Feds.”
“So let them finish the job.”
“When?” Tony Marcus said. “On the twelfth of never?”
“I heard he’s into crypto,” Jesse said.
“Big-time,” Marcus said. “Running as fast as he can before the Feds regulate that shit and take all the fun and profit out of it for guys who do it like Roarke and me do it.”
“Is it worth it,” Jesse said, “turning money over that way?”
“Hell, yeah, if you know what you doing.”
“And he does.”
“Hell, yeah.”
“Why doesn’t Roarke transition to doing it legally?”
Tony Marcus snorted. “Sunny didn’t tell me how fucking funny you are.”
“Tell me what you know,” Jesse said.
“What I hear is that the big white boy is looking to cash out, settle as many scores as he can on his way out the door, then go someplace where the Feds can’t get at him. They froze a lot of his assets already. But the boy ain’t stupid, he began diversifying a few years ago. Farming his shit out, so to speak.”
“He could see how the story was going to end.”
“Everybody calls him the new Whitey Bulger? He didn’t want to end up like Whitey, on the run till they caught him living in some shit place in Santa Monica.”
“Is it worth asking what Roarke might have done?”
“Not might. Did get done. I got that part solid inside my own brain. Just can’t prove it quite yet. You ever get one like that?”
“Right now. Maybe more than one before I’m through.”
“Listen up here,” Marcus said. “A few months ago, I beat him out of a building we was both after, the South End. I ended up with it. Till it got torched; somebody knew what he was doing. One of my troopers, over there checking it out, didn’t make it out in time. Boy I was quite fond of, you must know. Up-and-comer.”
He sipped more tea. “But I got to be sure, ’fore I start a Mob war with the wrong guy. There was some others in the bidding, so to speak. Coulda been them. I just don’t think it was.” He grinned. “Haven’t concluded my investigation yet.”
“So many gangsters, so little time.”
“Tell me about it,” Tony said.
“If you’re just waiting to nail him yourself eventually, why do you need me?”
“He’s in the way of a new thing I got going, another part of town. I’m thinking that if you can light him up, it might pre-cip-i-tate him getting out of the way, and I don’t have to get my hands dirty if I don’t have to. Or till I’m ready to.”
“You live a complicated life, Tony.”
“You got no idea.”
“But I have to say it seems to be working for you.”
“All’s I’m saying is, you already lit Roarke up once, without hardly trying. What would it hurt you did it again?”
“It’s a gift,” Jesse said. “Something I try to be a force for good.”
Marcus shook his head. “You talk the same kind of shit as Sunny. Care to tell me how you made a mess of that with her?”
“No.”
Then Jesse said: “Why would you move on Roarke later rather than sooner?”
“Next time you talk to Sunny Randall, if you do, ask her what I told her one time about how you handle a damn grudge.” He paused. “You wait.”
Jesse waited. “But sounds like you want me to settle my grudge with him sooner rather than later.”
Tony flashed him a big smile now. “You said it already. I’m one complicated motherfucker.”
Marcus stood now and looked down at his suit, for possible wrinkles. Flicked what Jesse was sure was imaginary lint off a lapel for effect.
“And you do owe me,” Marcus said.
“Sure,” Jesse said. “Go with that.”
“Just givin’ you a heads-up, case you need it,” Marcus said. “Roarke don’t look crazy. But is all kinds of crazy. He don’t believe in just getting even, you cross him. Ain’t no even with him.”
Ty Bop had already opened the door. Tony Marcus got there and turned.
“All’s I’m asking you to do, even having laid out the risk, is what I hear comes naturally to you,” Marcus said.
“And what might that be?”
“Fuck with him a little.”
Marcus smiled again.
“Or a lot, as the situation warrants.”
Sixty-Six
Jesse, Molly, and Nellie were at Molly’s. Jesse had brought pizza. They’d finished it by now. One slice each for Molly and Nellie, then they said they were done. Jesse couldn’t understand a person stopping after one slice of pizza any more than he ever understood one drink.
“Where’s Crow?” Molly asked.
“He said he had some tracking to do,” Jesse said. “It’s in his blood, you know.”
“I hadn’t heard that,” Molly said. “Tracking whom?”
“He told me it was need-to-know.”
“I need to know,” Molly said.
“You will when I do,” Jesse said.
“I hate when you do this,” she said.
“Join the club,” Nellie said.
“I actually started this particular club,” Molly said.
Jesse said he wanted to hear more about Molly’s conversation with Ainsley Walsh. Molly asked why she needed to tell it again. Jesse said because he wanted to hear it again, especially the part where Ainsley had F-bombed her into outer space after Molly had questioned her about Jack’s sexuality.
“Actually,” Molly said, “I might have left out the part about her calling me a grandma bitch.”
Nellie giggled. Molly gave her a look.
“I never heard those two words together before,” Nellie said. “They’re actually kind of funny.”
“Did you get the feeling that her reaction was genuine when you asked the question about him being gay, or was she overreacting for show?” Jesse asked. “And by the way? I should have asked that question already.”
Molly said, “No shit, Sherlock.”
Nellie said, “Maybe you haven’t evolved as much as you think you have.”
“So what do you think about the way Ainsley went off on you?” Jesse said.
“I raised four girls,” Molly said. “When they were too over-the-top, I didn’t think they were overreacting. Just acting.”
“Say he was gay,” Nellie said. “How does it change the circumstances surrounding his death?”
“Maybe he was ripped up about the thought it might get out,” Jesse said. “Or coming out. And killed himself because of that.”
“Sadly,” Nellie said, “he wouldn’t be the first.”
“The world’s gotten more accepting,” Molly said. “But that doesn’t make it any easier if you’re the one dealing with it, I don’t care how much people love you. Or how much of a jock you are.”
“What did finally make you ask the question?” Jesse said.
“I just kept asking myself just how many deep, dark secrets a high school senior boy might have, since we were all convinced there was some deep, dark secret going on,” Molly said. “Then no recreational drugs turned up in his system.”
“Or did he get a girl pregnant,” Molly continued. “But unless Ainsley is lying about a lot of things, there was no other girl in his life.”
“Doesn’t mean there wasn’t,” Jesse said.
“On that one, I feel as if she was telling me the truth.”