Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [47]
“Uh-huh.” Who married these men, I wondered?
“And two minutes later . . . Guess who enters the club and sits down at our table, fresh as a daisy? You got it! Danny the Doctor. And his pockets are full of dough! What’s even stranger is, he don’t remember a thing. He thinks we’re nuts when we talk about what just happened with him, right at this very table. And us, well, we figure he’s nuts, going senile or something. But his cash is real.” Johnny smirked and added, “And you know what? Mickey Rosenblum cleaned him out all over again!” Johnny guffawed long and loudly, occasionally pausing to repeat this last bit. Several times. “Cleaned him out all over again!”
Max and I looked at each other. Then we both looked at Lucky.
He nodded. “What did I tell you? We got us another doppelgangster somewhere out there. Only this one’s a Corvino.”
It proved to be impossible to have an intelligent conversation with Johnny Be Good Gambello in the room, so it was a relief when he suddenly asked Lucky to loan him some cash so he could go enjoy himself elsewhere while the night was still young.
After Johnny left, Lucky said to Max, “I put the word out after talkin’ with you and Esther yesterday morning. I know you thought Charlie’s doppelgangster was a one-time thing, Doc, but my gut told me otherwise.”
“And your gut seems to be very wise,” Max said respectfully.
“So by this morning, the whole famiglia knew to report anything unusual to me. And since Johnny ain’t never been able to keep his yap shut,” Lucky said, “it didn’t take long for me to hear about him seeing two Danny Dapezzos last night. That’s when I figured I better get you two together with him in someplace discreet.”
“Like the crypt of a church?” I muttered.
“Well done!” Max beamed at Lucky.
“I don’t see what’s wrong with meeting in an ordinary coffee shop,” I said.
“You are so naive,” Lucky said dismissively.
I decided to shelve that argument and move on to an obvious question, one that I felt sure Lopez would bring up if he were here. “Look, it’s no secret that Johnny Be Good has killed a few billion brain cells with booze and narcotics. So why shouldn’t we assume that Danny Dapezzo simply went to an ATM and returned to the poker game, and Johnny has fantasized the rest of the incident?”
“Wiseguys don’t use ATMs!” Lucky said, looking shocked. “Not for our own money, anyhow.”
“Okay, so maybe Danny had a stash nearby. Or mugged someone outside the club. Whatever,” I said. “And then maybe he pulled Johnny’s leg a little when he saw he could get away with it. My point is, how do we know that Johnny’s story is accurate?”
“Because after I talked with Johnny, I talked to Mickey Rosenblum,” Lucky said. “We grew up in the same neighborhood, I known him all my life. His family is where I learned some Yiddish words.”
“Ah,” I said.
“Mickey’s sharp as a knife,” Lucky said. “And his story is exactly the same as Johnny’s.”
“Why isn’t he here?” I asked.
“It’s a parole violation for him to be out of Nevada, so he’s on his way back to Vegas right now. Before some nosy cop finds out he’s been here.” Lucky gave me a warning look. “Which I’m sure we can assume won’t happen.”
“You need to stop telling me things you don’t want my boyfriend to know,” I said firmly. “I don’t like being put in the middle.”
“So I gather Mickey Rosenblum is a reliable witness,” Max said, “and we can rule out the possibility that Mr. Be Good is speaking out of delusion?”
“That’s right,” said Lucky.
I said, “So if they both saw Danny the Doctor’s doppelgangster . . .” Then Lopez was wrong, I realized. Chubby Charlie had not been having a manic episode. He had really seen own his perfect double. And I had seen it, too.
“This Danny the Doctor,” I said to Lucky. “He’s an enemy of yours? An enemy of the Gambello family?”
“Yeah. Like all the Corvinos.”
“But Chubby Charlie was one of your own,” Max mused.
“Which means,” said Lucky, “that someone’s hiring these doppelgangsters to whack made guys on both sides of the street.”
“If you’re right,