Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [73]
As the conversation continued, Jimmy Legs passed around a photo of his new love—a snazzy boat he’d recently acquired.(Not bought; acquired.)
Lucky accepted the photo, stretched out his arm to hold it farther away, and squinted at it. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?” Jimmy repeated, offended. “She’s a beauty!”
“Give it here,” Danny the Doctor said, reaching into his pocket for a pair of reading glasses. As he put them on, he said, “You’re getting old, Lucky, you should get a pair of these.”
Lucky shrugged off the comment and petted Nelli, who burped at him.
Danny studied the photo and said, “Yeah, I used to have a little boat like this, before I upgraded.”
Jimmy’s predictable response was interrupted by Fast Sammy, who said to Danny, “Hey, ain’t those glasses new boss? They look good.”
“I hate them,” Danny said curtly, handing the photo back to Jimmy. He took off the offending spectacles and gave them a contemptuous glance before putting them back in his pocket. “But my old ones are missing, goddamn it. Those frames were real gold, you know.”
Mikey Castrucci, speaking with his mouth full, looked at the rack of costumes along the far wall and said, “So what’s with all the fuckin’ bunny costumes?”
“The children wore them in our Easter play,” Father Gabriel said.
“That’s fuckin’ stupid,” said Mikey. “When did you ever see a fuckin’ pink rabbit? For real, I mean?”
“My six-year-old granddaughter was in that play,” Danny said quietly. “And she was adorable, so watch your goddamn language.”
Mikey shrugged. “I’m just saying, boss. In nature, there ain’t no such thing as a pink bunny, so why—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Danny ordered.
Mikey complied.
Although Corvinos and Gambellos rarely ate in the same restaurants, apparently the church was neutral enough turf that members of both families could be parishioners without violence breaking out in the middle of Mass.
“Yo, buddy,” said Fast Sammy to Max, who was telling Nelli apologetically that the prosciutto was all gone now. “Uh . . . Doc Zadok, right?”
“Sure.”
“What the hell kind of a dog is that, anyhow?”
“Well, she ain’t precisely a dog.” Max did not sound like a wiseguy. He sounded like Lord Peter Wimsey or Sir Percy Blakeney (a.k.a. the Scarlet Pimpernel)—some fictional historical aristocrat with a man-about-town speech affectation. And his slight Eastern European accent made the overall effect seem almost surreal. “She’s actually my fa—”
“She’s part Great Dane,” I said quickly. “And part, um . . . we’re not really sure.”
As the men looked my way, Mikey and Fast Sammy gazed lasciviously at my legs. I considered telling them I was dating a cop.
“So she isn’t a purebred animal?” asked Danny Dapezzo.
“No,” I said.
“I only have purebreds in my house,” Danny said fastidiously.
“Whatever,” said Max.
Busy enjoying another cannoli that Lucky had just slipped her, Nelli ignored us all.
“Why are parts of her blue?” Tommy Two Toes asked.
“There was a slight accident in Doc Zadok’s laboratory a couple of days ago,” said Lucky, reddening a little. “The mess ain’t worn off the dog yet.”
My own blue stains had finally faded. But I washed regularly with soap and water, and I doubted Nelli did.
“You should be more careful where you let your mongrel roam,” Danny said to Max.
“Bite me,” said Max.
Danny rose to his feet with menace on his cold face. “What the fuck did you just say to me, you prick?”
Max looked at Lucky in confusion, obviously wondering why one of his newly-acquired phrases had caused such offense.
“Hey, you insulted the guy’s dog,” Lucky said to Danny. “You expect Max to just take that from you? With the dog sittin’ right here?”
Danny glanced from Max to Lucky to Nelli. His eyes were like a snake’s, beady and empty of expression. After a long, tense moment, he said to Max, “You overreacted.”
“Sure,” said Max.
“I’ll give you a pass. This time.” Danny sat back down and added, “What the fuck did you bring a dog to sit-down for, anyhow?”
“She’s necessary