'Course she might lie.'
'She might. She's Marty Anaheim's wife.'
Hawk stared at me for a moment, which was as much surprise as he ever showed.
'Anthony got a death wish,' Hawk said.
'Marty and Anthony had some kind of deal going.'
'Did it include Mrs. Anaheim?'
'No, he ran off with her after, as far as I can tell, double crossing Marty.'
'Be quicker for Anthony,' Hawk said, 'he just stepped in front of a train.'
'And more pleasant,' I said.
'How's he doing?'
'Don't know,' I said.
'Right now I think he's counting, and betting progressively.'
'If he loses doubling the last bet?' Hawk said.
'Something like that,' I said.
'I don't study his technique.'
'He'll find a way to lose,' Hawk said.
'Anybody double-cross Marty Anaheim and run off with his wife knows how to lose.'
I sipped a little more club soda. Refreshing. Hawk gazed absently at Anthony Meeker across the room at one of the blackjack tables. He was dressed today in a black blazer and a white silk shirt with vertical black stripes like a successful referee.
'Cops still holding out for a random rape and murder?' Hawk said.
'I doubt it. They don't like to complicate things if they don't have to, but Romero doesn't seem stupid to me. Of course they'd have a better chance if I told them all I know.'
'Why don't you?'
'I'm trying to protect our client,' I said.
'And I'm trying to figure out who did what to whom before I sic the cops on them.'
'Just who is our client,' Hawk said.
'And why we still working for him? Shirley's dead and Julius knows where Anthony is.'
'Well, we can't let Marty Anaheim run around loose here,' I said.
'Why not?'
'His wife took off with Anthony because Marty abused her,' I said.
'You're surprised Marty Anaheim would abuse his wife?' Hawk said.
'He'll abuse her more if he finds her here.'
'So we working for her now?' Hawk said.
'She hasn't hired us. But I sort of told her we wouldn't let Marty get her.'
'Sure you did,' Hawk said.
'She's probably good looking and sad and you do four or five back flips and say we gonna eat Marty's lunch for him, he comes near her.'
'I didn't do that many back flips,' I said.
Hawk signaled to the bartender and ordered a glass of champagne.
'Marty Anaheim,' he said thoughtfully, 'is the meanest man I ever knew. He lost his hands, he'd bite you to death.'
I didn't say anything.
'Marty Anaheim,' Hawk said again, shaking his head slowly.
I shrugged.
The champagne arrived. Hawk drank half of it, and toasted me with the remainder.
'You often been a headache,' he said.
'But, babe, you never been a bore.'
CHAPTER 24
I was in my room reading Simon Schama's new book about landscapes when Anthony called me.
'Spenser,' he said, 'get up here.'
'You're awful bossy, Anthony, for a guy who's not paying me.'
