‘I don’t know. . .‘ Sharky said.
‘Well, let’s make up our minds, troops, because we got about two hours to show time. After that, it’s give it to Jaspers and collect unemployment.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Enormous arc spotlights swept back and forth in front of Mirror Towers, their beams reaching up into a clear, star-filled sky. Live TV cameras rested on tripods beside a red carpet that stretched from the kerb in front of the building to the blazing entrance to
Celebrities had started arriving at six for a private cocktail party in DeLaroza’s penthouse. The regular guests had begun arriving even earlier and now they began filing into the four elevators for the trip to the magic gates of the amusement atrium.
Newsmen crowded around Donald Hotchins as he got out of the black limousine. His wife, Elena, remained in the back seat as usual, waiting for the furore to die down. She hated the public spectacle, hated the press, hated everything about politics.
Hotchins seemed the perfect politico, his longish blond hair flopping casually over his forehead, his broad smile radiating sincerity. He seemed even taller and more handsome than usual in the elegance of a tuxedo.
As he got out of the car into a volley of popping flashbulbs and a phalanx of microphones, all thrust in his face, DeLaroza moved through the crowd of reporters to shake his hand.
‘Is it true, Senator, that you’re going to make an announcement later this evening?’ one of them asked.
‘Well, why don’t we wait for a little while and see? Hotchins said, still grinning. ‘By the way this is Victor DeLaroza. You ought to get to know him. You’ll be seeing a lot of him in the future.’
‘So you are going to be making a statement then?’ someone else asked.
‘Wait another hour or so,’ Hotchins said good-naturedly. ‘I’ve never missed a deadline yet.’
The press contingent laughed and moved back as the senator helped his wife from the sedan. She smiled coolly at DeLaroza, who nodded back, and then led the Hotchinses along the red carpet towards
She appeared older than Hotchins, a stunning woman, tall and straight, although somewhat stem-looking and formal. She had silver-grey hair and the kind of features the magazines sometimes call handsome. She was wearing a glittering white gown and a full-length lynx coat.
As they approached the entrance Hotchins saw through the crowd a woman standing near the doorway, her face inscrutable behind a waxen full-face mask with high, bright-red cheekbones and a thin slash of mouth. She was wearing a gold full-length mandarin dress with a blazing red sun in the midsection and her eyes seemed to follow hun through the slanted cutouts in the mask. He looked back as he entered the building. There was something disquieting about her.
‘So that’s the pair,’ Sharky said, as the Hotchins party boarded one of the bullet-shaped elevators to be whisked up to DeLaroza’s penthouse.
‘He looked back at me,’ Domino said, her voice muffled by the mask. ‘I was afraid for a minute he might have recognized me.’
‘Maybe the gown attracted him,’ Sharky said. ‘It’s gorgeous.’
‘It came from Hong Kong,’ she said.
‘Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?’ They entered the lobby and mingled with the crowd waiting for the elevators to Pachinko! They were a strange couple, Sharky in his tweed suit and black eye mask, Domino in the shimmering gold gown, with the eerie waxen disguise covering her entire face.
‘You sure you want to go through with this?’ Sharky asked.
‘Too late to stop now,’ she said. ‘Besides, I have a little getting even to do myself.’
The elevator opened at the top of Ladder Street and Sharky and Domino stepped out into a carnival of sight and sound.
Several hundred visitors had already arrived and the enormous atrium was crowded. Jugglers roved the steps of Ladder Street, tossing fire sticks back and forth. Music seemed to swell from every doorway. Travelling hucksters offered postcards and trinkets. The smell of barbecuing chicken and ribs drifted up from the food stalls.
‘Look for Papa. He should be close to the top of the steps,’ Sharky said.
The place made him nervous. Too big. Too many people. It was more dangerous than he had imagined.
Papa was standing in front of the first food stall, nibbling a rib. He was not wearing a mask.
‘Have any trouble getting in?’ Sharky asked him.
‘Naw. I could crash a kindergarten party and get away with it.’
‘Where’s your mask?’
‘There’s some things even I won’t do for the department.’
‘The place is bigger than I thought,’ Sharky said.
‘Worry you?’
‘A little.’
‘Not me. Easier to keep an eye on her. Harder for them to spot you.’
‘Maybe you’re right.’
