'Any that you know of, that he mentioned to you.'
'Enemies? Yeah — you guys. That is, guys like you, cops. Cops and government guys. Marty was always going off about the government. Ours, that is, not his. The U.S. He kept sounding off about the FBI and the CIA, two of his pet peeves, and how they were always trying to bug him and follow him, and how they were the tools of the rich in this country and they only wanted to take back Venezuela from the revolution so they could go back to stealing the oil like they'd been doing before his crowd got in, and so on and so forth, and all that kind of crap. I didn't listen when he'd start spouting off; he could go on like that for hours.'
Jack said, 'Any other enemies. Apart from the government, that is. Any personal rivals, men he'd crossed in love or business?'
Dorinda shook her head. 'Marty didn't talk about his business with me. He's one of those macho types who thinks a woman has no business being in business. But he had bodyguards with him all the time — well, not quite all the time, if you know what I mean. In bed,' she added, just in case Jack didn't know what she meant.
'So he must have had enemies, or he wouldn't have had bodyguards with him all the time,' she went on. 'And I guess he was right, because somebody did try to kill him after all.'
Jack asked, 'What about friends? Did he have any of them?'
Dorinda's green cat eyes widened, then narrowed. In calculation. And malice.
'I know one!' she said. 'Raoul — Raoul Garros.'
Jack knew who Garros was, all right. CTU's GCR Center had a file on him, a big one. He said mildly, as if the matter was of little interest to him, 'Raoul Garros? I believe I've heard that name. He's that big Venezuelan oilman, the one that's in the papers?'
'The very same,' Dorinda said. 'He and Marty were thick as thieves for a while. In fact, Raoul first brought Marty into the club.'
Jack silently noted her familiar use of Garros's first name. 'An odd couple. Paz is a roughneck and Garros seems like a smoothie. From what I read about him in the papers.'
'Smooth? Slippery, that's the word you're looking for,' Dorinda said, with no small bitterness of voice and expression. 'Or oily, that's even better. Yeah, oily. That describes Raoul to a T.'
'Sounds like you don't like him.'
Dorinda's face was a porcelain mask, flawless, unlined, expressionless. Only the eyes were alive. Green eyes. Glittering, though, not sparkling. 'Raoul? I don't like him or dislike him. I don't think about him. He's nothing to me. Less than nothing.'
Jack couldn't help asking, 'What was it about him you didn't like? His good looks, money, or celebrity?'
'All of the above,' Dorinda said, her teeth clenched. 'Raoul's greatest love is himself. He's vain, he's more stuck on his looks than any of the gals who work here. He's full of himself, a big bore.
'He didn't fool me with those phony manners,' she went on. 'He's a sneaky guy. I wouldn't trust him. He's always got a lot of big deals cooking, according to him.'
'What kind of deals?' Jack asked.
Her shrug was dismissive. 'How would I know? I'm not into that kind of crap. Men talking about business, to me it's boring.'
'Were Raoul and Paz in business?'
Dorinda snickered. 'Marty's not what you'd call a businessmen. He's a hard guy. A soldier. But he and Raoul were in pretty good together. Sometimes something would come up and they'd have to talk in private, so they'd tell us girls to go powder our noses or go shopping or get lost until they were done talking about whatever they were cooking up.'
She fell silent, studying her nails. After a pause, she looked up. 'Come to think of it, maybe Marty and Raoul are enemies at that.'
'You said they were buddies,' Jack said.
Dorinda said, 'They were — but they had a big falling out.'
'Why?'
'The oldest reason in the world.'
'Money?'
'No,' Dorinda said, irritated at his obtuseness, 'a woman.'
'Which woman?'
'Guess.' Not waiting for his reply, she said quickly, 'The one you're looking for. Vikki Valence.'
'Why her?'
'Good question. I couldn't see the appeal, myself. But Raoul and Vikki used to play around. They were going at it pretty hot and heavy. Then she dropped him and took up with Marty.'
Jack's tone was skeptical, disbelieving. 'She dropped Garros for Paz?'
'Sure, why not?' Dorinda challenged. 'It's the Bad Boy Thing. Raoul's a pretty boy. He's in love with his looks. If I didn't know better, I'd say that he and Vikki broke up after too many fights over who was hogging the mirror.'
'But you know better.'
'I know that Raoul stepped out of the picture when Marty made a play for Vikki.'
Jack said, 'Vikki was with Raoul, then Paz? Men you'd been intimate with? That didn't make you mad?'
Dorinda said, 'Be serious. I had them first, then I got bored with them and moved on. All Vikki got out of it was sloppy seconds. My leavings. She could have them. They're her problem now. And it looks like it turned into a hell of a problem, too. A killing affair.'
'Raoul tried to have Paz killed because he was jealous of him over Vikki?' Jack had a tough time maintaining a neutral tone and keeping the disbelief out of his voice.
Dorinda recovered some of her cool. 'That's your spin on it. Don't put words in my mouth. I'm just saying that Marty took Raoul's girl away from him and Raoul was sore about it. After that, he stopped coming in the club. Raoul's rich and well-connected; I guess if he wanted to, he could find some guys to take his money for knocking off Marty. Especially in this town. Without looking too hard, either.'
Jack, noncommittal, said, 'Well, it's an interesting theory and we'll certainly follow it up.'
'You do that,' Dorinda said. 'Just don't tell Raoul that it was me who put you on to him, okay?'
'Your confidentiality will be protected, just as we protect all our sources.'
Jack stood up, indicating the interview was over. Dorinda's face lit up with a smile of genuine delight. 'I just thought of something,' she said.
'Oh? What's that?'
'With Vikki gone, that makes me the headliner!'
During her interview, redheaded Francine threw a different slant on things: 'Dorinda had it bad for Raoul.'
Jack said, 'That's not what she says.'
'She's kidding you, or herself,' Francine scoffed. 'She was real gone over the Caracas Romeo. Raoul's catnip to women, and he had Dorinda purring. But a guy like that is too good-looking to be good. Rich, too. He's a playboy; he's not going to settle for one woman. Besides, his family are big shots back in Venezuela; they'd never stand for their sonny boy marrying a Bourbon Street titty dancer.'
Francine grinned, relishing her own malice. 'Not that he was ever going to marry her anyway. He's not that dumb. That was Dorinda's fantasy — she is that dumb. To him, she was strictly for laughs. That goes for Vikki, too.'
Jack said, 'Did Raoul and Paz get along?'
'They palled around.'
'I heard they had a falling out after Paz took Vikki away from Raoul.'
'You must've heard that from Dorinda. What else is she going to say? She's just trying to save her face,' Francine said. 'Listen, friend, nobody could take any girl away from Raoul until he was good and done with her. Take it from one who knows.'
'You were with Garros, too?'
'A lady never kisses and tells,' Francine said, smirking. 'Vikki had nothing to do with Raoul throwing over Dorinda. He was tired of her long before he ever laid eyes on Vikki. He dumped her at least a month before Vikki
