way.'
'What the hell way do you think of me? We've been going out with each other for more than a year now.'
Kathleen sighed heavily. 'Gus, you pay me to go out with you. You're a steady customer. Is there something seriously fucking wrong with you, or what? Whatever gave you the idea I'd wanna marry you? For Christ's sake, I'm a prostitute.'
'I don't understand,' he said quietly. 'You said you cared for me – '
'I'll say I want to have your kids if you pay me enough.'
Something tapped the glass on the driver's side window.
Startled, Kathleen jumped. 'Fuck, is that a cop?'
'Don't worry, we're not doing anything wrong.' Gus turned and saw a fat man in a suit and trench coat standing next to the car. 'I'm right in the middle of some personal business here, all right, pal?' The man smiled and tapped the glass again. Gus rolled down the window, felt the cold air rush in. 'We're having a conversation here, there something I can do for you, buddy?'
'Gus Lemieux, right?' the man asked happily.
'That's right. Who's asking?'
'Vincent told me to give you this.'
By the time Gus realized the man had leveled a gun at him it was too late.
It made an odd buzzing sound as the bullet fired through the chamber and out the end of the silencer, piercing Gus's forehead.
Blood, tissue and brain matter sprayed out the back of his head as it exploded. Most of it landed in Kathleen's lap, and as she opened her mouth to scream the man leaned in closer and fired a round between her eyes.
Kathleen's head snapped back in a halo of blood, crashed against the window and shattered it.
Gus was making disturbing gurgling sounds. He convulsed, and bright red blood poured from his lips, coating his chin. Vic DeNicco calmly slid more than an inch of the silencer into his victim's already open mouth, and pulled the trigger again. The body vaulted back then lurched forward, and Gus hit his forehead on the steering wheel, his wig sliding from his head as he slumped over between the passenger seat and dashboard.
After he had holstered the gun, Vic removed a brick of heroin wrapped in plastic from his coat pocket, tore it open with gloved hands, and tossed it into the car.
A black Lincoln Continental silently glided up alongside the GMC Jimmy. Vic DeNicco climbed inside, and they pulled away, slowing for a stop sign before turning at the top of the block.
Frank had eventually managed to fall asleep, but only in short spurts. Harsh morning light poked through the holes and slashes in the window shade, and the sounds of the city slowly coming to life convinced him to at least entertain the idea of getting up, splashing some water on his face and venturing out in search of coffee.
His beeper went off, and he sat up straight in bed. Still attached to his belt, he pulled it free and quickly read the numbers as they rolled across the digital display. Odd, he thought, recognizing the office number.
He went to the payphone in the lobby and returned the call, convincing himself that if it were some elaborate trick, he would simply hang up and find somewhere else to hide. One night at the Wellington Hotel was more than enough.
'Good morning,' Vincent's voice answered cheerfully. 'Entertainment Enterprises.'
'Good morning,' Frank said reluctantly.
'Frank! Man, are you all right?'
'I'm fine.'
'Come on in. Everything's been taken care of.'
Frank glanced over his shoulder at the empty lobby. 'That was quick. What happened?'
'I can go into detail once you get here,' he said. 'But I spoke to Michael and he managed to straighten things out. I also found Gus. I ran into him and that broad at his house.'
'And?'
'I was wrong, Frank.' Vincent breathed heavily into the phone. 'I'm sorry.'
'I knew it,' Frank said, managing a smile.
'Our leak came from somewhere else. I've got a few ideas, but we'll cover that when you land.'
'Where's Gus now?'
'He's meeting us here in a few minutes,' Vincent told him. 'So get here as fast as you can. There's still a few loose ends we need to take care of, know what I mean?'
Frank nodded into the phone. 'I'll be there in about an hour.'
'Great,' Vincent said smoothly. 'I'll be waiting.'
CHAPTER 16
Frank arrived at the office a little after nine o'clock. Vincent's car was the only one in the lot. The reception and telemarketing area was empty, and Frank checked his watch. His employees should have been there by now, but weren't. The office was quiet.
'Vin?' he called out.
'You made it.'
Frank turned and saw Vincent standing in the doorway to his office. 'Where the hell is everybody?'
'I didn't know how long our troubles were going to last so I gave everybody a couple days off.'
'Oh,' Frank sighed, the knot in his stomach loosening. 'I got a little nervous there for a minute.'
Vincent started off down the hallway, waving for Frank to follow him. 'Come on, we'll talk in your office.'
Frank slid behind the desk and sat in his leather swivel. Vincent remained a few feet from the front of his desk. 'Let me get you up to speed on what's happening.'
'Please do.'
'I haven't exactly been honest with you, Frank.'
'What about?'
'Quite a bit, actually.'
Frank swallowed. 'Where's Gus?'
'He won't be coming.'
Were it not for his physical exhaustion, Frank would have reacted more violently. 'Please tell me you didn't hurt him.'
'No more lies, Frank. Gus didn't make it.'
'You motherfucker!' Frank sprang from his chair. 'I fucking told you – '
'You told me? No, I tell you.'
'What the fuck did you do?' They stood staring at each other, chests heaving, fists clenched but held at their sides. 'What the fuck did you do?'
Vincent pulled a gun from his jacket and pointed it directly at Frank, arms locked. Stunned, Frank took a step back from his desk. 'What… what the hell are you doing? What is this?'
'This?' Vincent asked, motioning to the gun. 'This is a military-issue nine millimeter Beretta. It's a great piece. Weighs a little over two and a half pounds – fully loaded, of course. A round from this mother goes almost thirteen-hundred-feet a second, Frank. Tag somebody with this and they go down every time. Now, do me a favor and sit the fuck down on your own so I don't have to prove it.'
Silently, Frank lowered himself back into the chair.
