Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [71]
“That sounds normal,” Lucky muttered.
“I wonder if this is all because Mercury is in retrograde?” Max mused.
“Okay, what does that mean?” I said.
“It’s astronomy,” Lucky said.
“Astrology,” Max corrected. “When Mercury, the astral body that rules communications, is on the other side of the sun from Earth, then communications here become confusing and difficult. It happens three times per calendar year, on average, because Mercury’s solar orbit is so much smaller than Earth’s. And while Mercury is in retrograde, which typically lasts for about three weeks, letters get lost, messages get garbled, comments get misinterpreted, people have trouble keeping their appointments, and so on.”
Lucky looked alarmed. “Let’s hope everyone keeps tonight’s appointment. We got serious business to discuss!”
I thought about how hard it was for Lopez and me to get together lately, and about my trouble communicating with my agent to get the audition I wanted; I’d left another message on his answering machine late this afternoon. I also thought of my missing evening wrap and the lack of communication about it between Father Gabriel and Mrs. Campanello.
“How much longer did you say will Mercury be in retrograde?” I asked anxiously.
“Oh, another ten days,” Max said. “I wonder if the IRS will stop harassing me then? Or at least make more sense?”
“You want I should take care of this little problem for you?” Lucky offered.
“No!” I said sharply, forgetting about my communications problems as I envisioned the implications of Lucky’s question. “I will look over Max’s IRS correspondence when I have time. You will stay out of it, Lucky.”
Lucky looked annoyed by my tone. “Whatever. Max and I will go downstairs and have a word with Father Gabriel now. Esther, you stay up here and direct all the arrivals to the crypt.”
“Of course,” I said. “It’s how I’ve always longed to spend a Tuesday evening.”
14
After everyone arrived at St. Monica’s for the sit-down, I wasted an hour of my life watching wiseguys stuff their faces (and, boy, can wiseguys eat) and listening to them brag about the women they had bedded and the punks to whom they had taught a lesson. Realizing that if I was alive at the age of one hundred, I’d still look back on tonight and regret this squandered hour of my sojourn on this planet, I took Lucky into the stairwell to have a quiet word with him.
“I thought we were here for a sit-down,” I whispered.
“This is a sit-down,” he whispered back.
“No, this is more like a family reunion in hell.”
“It’s a process,” Lucky said. “This ain’t a meeting between lawyers and accountants, you know. We’re blood enemies. You gotta allow time for everyone to get comfortable with each other and get used to makin’ eye contact without reaching for their pieces.”
“I thought no one brought pieces!” I whispered in alarm.
“Relax, no one did. I searched ’em as they came in. That was a figure of speech.”
“Well, it’s been an hour. Aren’t they comfortable yet?”
“It ain’t a good idea to rush things,” Lucky said. “Anyhow, officially, Danny’s the one who called for this sit-down. So protocol is, it’s up to him to bring up our mutual business.”
“Our ‘mutual business’?” I repeated sharply. “You mean the killings, Lucky?”
My tone annoyed him again. “Madonna, you’re edgy tonight. Maybe you shoulda stayed home.”
“No, I’m just wondering how you could have . . .” I bit my lip and reined in my temper. Lucky’s ruthless murder of Elena’s husband was not a subject to be discussed in whispers in the stairwell and under these circumstances. “Never mind. Let’s go back in.” I avoided his eyes and brushed past him.
When we reentered the crypt, my gaze sought out Max, who was sitting with Father Gabriel. The priest seemed to be accepted here as a sort of referee. And Lucky had been right to insist that Max and I adjust our appearances. I looked exactly the way the Corvinos (and most other wiseguys) thought a woman should look, so they found me unthreatening and