Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [74]
“How is a dog necessary?”
“Are you opening the floor for discussion?”
Danny grunted. “Yeah. Enough of this bullshit. I’m opening the floor.” He cleared his throat, glanced at Jimmy Legs and Tommy Two Toes, then looked at Lucky again. “We want to make it clear, before any unnecessary and unjust retribution occurs, we got nothing to do with the unfortunate hits that your family has experienced. As God is my witness, no Corvino had a hand in these deaths.” He crossed himself.
Father Gabriel, looking uncertain about the etiquette, crossed himself, too.
“Why should we believe you?” Lucky asked.
“What would we gain from these hits?” Danny challenged.
“One of our capos is dead, and he was a good earner. The don’s nephew is dead, so the boss is in mourning.”
“Like I said, what do we gain from any of that?”
“You think if we get distracted by a few mysterious hits,” Lucky said, “there’ll be an opening for you to move up and become the number one family in this town.”
“We are the number one family in this town,” Danny shot back.
“In your dreams!” said Tommy Two Toes.
“Watch your mouth, you babbo,” Mikey Castrucci snapped.
“Whoa, hang on,” said Lucky. “Danny and me is senior here, we’ll do the talking.”
Danny cast an angry glare over the assembled group and said, “Let’s stick to the point.” He looked at Lucky. “We ain’t done these hits, and we ain’t seekin’ another war with the Gambellos.”
“Okay, let’s say for a minute that I believe you,” said Lucky.
“Really?” blurted Fast Sammy.
Danny hit him in the head. “Go on, Lucky.”
“I’m gonna cut right to the chase and ask you a real specific question, Danny.”
“I got nothin’ to hide.”
“Have you seen your own perfect double lately?”
There was a puzzled silence. Then Danny said, “Huh?”
“Although my boss thinks you guys probably did these hits and we should just wipe you off the city map once and for all . . .” Lucky shrugged, ignoring the muttered curses of the three Corvinos at the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down, too. “We got an alternative theory about these hits that we want to discuss. And my friend Doc Zadok is the one who’s gotta explain it to you.”
Recognizing his cue, Max stood up, straightened his tie and adjusted the rakish angle of his fedora. “Thank you, Lucky.” He looked around the room for a moment, then punched his fist into the air and said, “Yo, fellows! Listen up!”
I blinked.
“Oops, I nearly forgot. Before we begin,” Max said, “I need to ask: Are any of you Lithuanian?”
“Lithuwhat?” said Jimmy Legs.
“To be clear, I have absolutely nothing against Lithuanians,” Max assured them. “Well, not personally. But there are certain professional boundaries which I am honor bound to respect.”
Danny the Doctor looked at me. “Are you Lithuanian? I know you ain’t Italian, anyhow.”
“No, the Diamonds came from Russia,” I said. “A century ago.”
Max had a thing about Lithuanians. It had come up before a few times, and I had meant to ask about it, but it tended to slip my mind when stumbling across, oh, doppelgangsters and evil sorcerer’s apprentices. Anyhow, I vaguely had the impression that, for Max, being Lithuanian was sort of like belonging to a different famiglia.
“Relax, pal. Everyone here is Italian,” said Danny. “Except for Miss Russki, that is.”
“Very well, then. Er, I mean to say, sure. Whatever.” Max cleared his throat. “Yo, fellows, there’s an evil entity in town that’s whacking guys on both sides of the street, whether they’re Gambellos or Corvinos,” he began. “Now look at me. Look right at me. Good. This is not like any other hitter you’ve ever, um, mattressed against. This hitter’s got juice like you ain’t never imagined. You had better respect what I’m saying.”
Max paused to consult his notes.
I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. There was a kind of excruciating fascination to his performance.
“I’m going to explain what you don’t know about these hits,” he told the wiseguys. “And then we will talk about, er, some suitable precautions that I strongly feel are advisable.”
As Max laid out the facts