Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [56]
When Nelli picked up her head and stared coldly at Lucky, he said to her, “Hey, it’s wasn’t me. I’m just repeating what Johnny’s wife said. And she don’t know from dogs, so let it go.”
Nelli sighed and put her head back down on her paws.
“And that,” Lucky continued, “was the last time Johnny’s wife saw him. He left the house at some point the next day, while she was out, and he ain’t been home since. Ain’t called, neither.”
“So Johnny’s doppelgangster hasn’t visited his home,” Max mused.
“Unless that was his doppelgangster,” I said. “Pretending to have seen itself.”
“Huh?” Lucky said.
“I mean—”
“Oh! Never mind, I get it.” Lucky added, “Based the estimated time of death, I figure Johnny was whacked sometime after his wife saw him and before Mickey Rosenblum played poker with him.”
And according to the morning papers, Johnny was knocked unconscious before being dumped in the river, so his death did indeed seem to be murder.
“So Mr. Rosenblum was playing cards with Johnny’s doppelgangster,” Max mused.
“If that really is Mickey I been talkin’ to on the phone.” Lucky rubbed a hand over his face. “I hope so. I like Mickey.”
“And now we know both victims saw their perfect doubles shortly before dying,” I said.
“Doppelgängerism.” Max’s voice held conviction. “Charlie knew he’d been cursed. Johnny Be Good just didn’t understand what he was seeing.”
“That’s easy to believe,” muttered Lucky.
“But what is the purpose of these doppelgangsters?” Max wondered.
“At a guess,” I said, “murder.”
“Yes, but why has such an elaborate phenomenon accompanied the murder of these two individuals?” Max asked. “Were they especially important men? Did they have unique powers?”
Lucky shook his head. “Charlie was a good earner, but he wasn’t hard to replace. We moved someone up into his spot by yesterday, and we expect Charlie’s, uh, branch of the business to continue running smooth without him. And, God forgive me for speaking ill of the dead, Johnny was a useless momzer. It’s not like his death is a kick in the nuts for us, even though the boss is upset about it.”
“Hey,” I said. “Could the guy you promoted to Charlie’s spot be behind this?” And then Johnny’s murder, I supposed, would be misdirection, an attempt by a rising Gambello mobster to keep suspicion off himself.
Lucky shook his head. “No, he’s in Charlie’s spot now because we trust him. He was headed for something good anyhow, so he sure didn’t have to whack another Gambello to get it. Plus he knows what would happen to him if he did that and we ever found out. And he ain’t the doppelgangster-creating type. You can trust me on this.”
“So we’re back to regarding the Corvinos as the most likely suspects for killing Gambellos?” I said.
“The most likely,” Lucky agreed.
“Unless Doctor Dapezzo had indeed been replicated, too,” Max pointed out.
“We need to find out for sure,” Lucky said, casting an accusatory glare at his silent cell phone.
“And there’s something else we need to find out,” I said. “Where are Charlie’s and Johnny’s doppelgangsters now?”
Lucky’s jaw dropped. “Holy Mother!”
Max’s eyes widened. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Charlie ate dinner a second time at Stella’s on Thursday without being aware it was his second visit of the evening. Or so he said. So we can theorize that Lucky and I saw his doppelgangster that evening, though we still have no idea which diner was Charlie and which was the double,” I said. “Johnny’s doppelgangster was talking to us yesterday. And now, as far as we know, no one has seen either of them since the hits. So where are they?”
“Hey! Hey, wait! I got it!” Lucky skimmed his book, and then rested his