Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [75]
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa,” said Mikey Castrucci. “You’re saying you met with Johnny Be Good after he was dead?”
“That’s right,” said Max. “So you can understand why we thought this phenomenon worthy of investigation.”
Mikey shoved his chair away from the table. “That’s it. I’m outta here.”
As the gangster stomped out of the crypt, Max said, “Nelli? If you please.”
In a frightening burst of speed for so large a beast, Nelli leaped across the room, jumped on Mikey, and knocked him down to the floor. He screamed in terror. Except for Lucky, everyone in the room jumped to his feet.
Tail wagging, Nelli started sniffing Mikey all over.
Obviously afraid to go near an unpredictable dog that big, Danny demanded, “What the fuck is going on? What is that mutt doing?”
Nelli paused in her task long enough to glance at Danny with open dislike. Then, enormous ears flopping, she went back to examining Mikey.
“Yo, listen up,” Max said. “I have instructed Nelli to frisk you guys.”
“We been frisked!” protested Fast Sammy. “So you know we ain’t packin’ heat!”
“I ain’t looking for your heaters,” said Max. “I’m attempting to ascertain if any of you is a doppelgangster.”
Nelli finished sniffing Mikey, then turned her back on him and returned to Max’s side.
“So,” Danny said. “I guess he’s not a dopp . . . whatever.”
“Doppelgangster,” said Max. “No. At least, we hope not. In truth, Nelli’s never encountered one, and she’s very new to this dimension, so we’re not positive she can identify one. But it does seem worth trying, don’t you agree?”
Danny guffawed. “You think one of those doppelgangsters is here?”
“It’s certainly possible,” said Max.
“This is bullshit!” Mikey Castrucci hauled himself off the floor, dusted himself off, and stormed out of the crypt, radiating wounded pride.
Lucky looked at Danny, who did not stop his subordinate from departing. “Are you staying?”
“Hell, yes,” said Danny. “I ain’t heard anything this funny since Bob Hope passed away. Hey, make my day and tell me he’s been doppelgangstered, too. What I wouldn’t give to see him perform again! I loved that guy!”
Who would have guessed that Danny the Doctor had a sense of humor?
Fast Sammy said to Danny, “Come on, boss, this Zadok guy is a whack job.”
“Shut the fuck up,” said Danny. “I’m enjoyin’ myself.”
Since it wouldn’t look good to leave the capo alone at a sit-down with three Gambellos, Fast Sammy grumbled but stayed in his chair.
“Now what?” Danny prodded.
“Now,” Max said, “Nelli will frisk everyone here, while I finish what I was saying before that babbo created a commotion and left.”
“Watch you your mouth,” Danny warned.
“Madonna,” Max said.
So Nelli walked around the room sniffing everyone, which Danny found quite amusing. And he couldn’t contain his hilarity when Max reached the crux of the matter.
“Me? Me? A doppelgangster of Johnny told you he’d met a doppelgangster of me?” Danny laughed so hard that his beady eyes watered. “Oh, no! Oh, my God! It’s too good!”
When Max explained that we’d had some concerns until Nelli examined him, that he could be the doppelgangster, I thought Danny would fall off his chair laughing.
“I assure you, my dear fellow . . . er, buddy,” said Max, “this is not a laughing matter.”
“You’re killing me!” Danny cried, pressing his hands over his stomach as if it ached, while he continued to laugh uproariously.
He had not struck me as a mirthful person. I guess you never can tell.
“The only reason we’re having a sit-down with you, you schmendrick,” Lucky said in exasperation, “is that if your doppelgangster is out there somewhere, then we’re willing to believe you guys ain’t behind these hits.”
“So we need . . .” Max sighed, sat down, and took off his hat. Since the sit-down was going so far off course anyhow, he evidently decided to abandon his attempts