Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [117]
“Dressed as Elena might have been dressed last night, if she was on a dinner date that went bad.”
“My goodness! Do you realize, Esther, that we have learned something useful, after all, from interviewing the doppelgangster? Or, rather, you have. This ‘girl talk’ is most informative!”
“But Buonarotti . . . Is he the doppelgangster-making type? Is he the subtle, inventive, devious sorcerer you’ve talked about?” I shook my head. “I just don’t see that.”
“No. Whereas he is well-suited to be the accomplice whose role is to finish the work, so to speak. And evidently he asked his partner in crime to duplicate the widow,” Max said. “I suppose her violent death might contribute to the eruption of tribal warfare, considering that Lucky is so fond of her—”
“Apparently Don Victor is also fond of her.” I shrugged. “And, who knows, perhaps Don Carmine Corvino is fond of her, too. She married two Corvinos, after all.”
“So the mysterious partner might see a benefit in cooperating with Don Michael Buonarotti’s demand, which would explain why he complied. The widow’s murder might push the two families even further toward the war that our adversary is trying to bring about. Even though, for Don Michael, the duplication was inspired by personal motives.” Max thought it over and nodded. “A rejected and humiliated suitor, a violent man with a short temper and the capacity for brutal, opportunistic murder . . . Yes, if Don Michael is in league with the sorcerer, then the temptation would be irresistible to ask his colleague to duplicate the widow.”
“Maybe you were right, Max.” My heart started pounding. “Maybe the solution is just around the corner. I mean, we’re saying . . .”
“We’re saying,” Max said, “that we think Don Michael knows who’s creating the doppelgangsters.”
“So how do we make a Mafia killer tell us what we want to know?”
My phone rang, startling me. I pulled it out of my purse and looked at the LCD panel. “It’s Thack,” I said. It seemed as if I had been trying to talk to him since forever. “Probably calling to tell me the role on The Dirty Thirty that I wanted to audition for has already been filled by now.” I flipped open the phone. “Hello?”
“I meant to call you earlier, Esther, but it’s been another crazy day!” There was a lot of noise in the background.
“Uh-huh.” I glanced at my watch and noticed it was past nine o’clock already.
“A vodka tonic, please!”
“What?”
“I’m talking to the bartender,” Thack said. “It’s intermission at Long Day’s Journey Into Night on Long Island. My God, the things I do for my clients.”
That explained the background noise. I knew that play. Everyone would be racing for the bar. And if Thack was there to watch a client’s performance, he couldn’t even leave early. He’d have to sit through the whole thing.
“I’m afraid I’ve got bad news,” Thack said.
“I thought so,” I said with resignation.
“But the good news,” he said gleefully, “outweighs the bad!”
“There’s good news?” It was about time.
“Absolutely! But bad news first. You didn’t get the part of the grad student on Dirty Thirty.”
“No surprise there,” I muttered.
“They liked your audition, but they just didn’t think you were right for the part.”
“What?”
“Hey, I said they liked your audition. So don’t obsess about the other half of what I said.”
“But, Thack, I didn’t au—”
“God, actors. You guys kill me. So insecure.”
“But I—”
“Hold on, Esther.” Evidently speaking to the bartender, he said, “Can I get ice and lime with that, please?” After a moment, he said to me, “Send help! I’m in a place where you have to ask for ice and lime with your vodka tonic.”
“Thack, what are you—”
“Where was I? Oh, right, so you didn’t get the part. But the Crime and Punishment casting director—oh, what’s his name? You know who I mean? The one who liked you last year but didn’t think you seemed like a killer? Anyhow—drumroll, please!—he wants you for a different guest role on Dirty Thirty.”
I sat up straighter. “He does?”
“Yes! It’s later in the season, an episode they haven’t finished casting yet. My notes are back at