Tony didn’t usually say much, which was something I liked about him. Anyway, the noise level was too high for conversation. His attention was on the dance floor, and it looked like he was content to keep it there. Since entering the club, I’d had my eye out for large Ukrainian types, but so far hadn’t seen anyone who fit that description. The crowd was made up for the most part of young professionals, people in their twenties and thirties. They looked like they had money, like they had devoted themselves to acquiring it, and having accomplished that, were now bereft of imagination. I suppose I wasn’t being very charitable.
I hadn’t expected to just walk into the club and bump into one of the Ukrainians, so what happened next was something of a surprise. Leave it to Mio to be the catalyst of the unexpected. I noticed that both she and Karla were attracting a certain amount of admiring attention from the other dancers. A small but noticeably disproportionate space had grown around the two of them as a result of the others watching. At one point, a young man, maybe in his late twenties, moved in between the two women, with the obvious intention of appropriating Karla. Mio simply danced around him, and as she did, Karla turned away from the guy, reestablishing her position with Mio. When the guy tried it a second time, Karla made an unequivocal gesture of dismissal and I could read her lips as she told him to fuck off. The guy stopped dancing and intentionally brushed her with his shoulder as he walked past. Karla lost her balance and almost fell.
Tony may have seen what happened next. I don’t think anyone else did. While Karla was staggering to catch her balance, ninety-one pounds of haute couture blur flashed low and fast across the intervening space. Mio swung her right arm, driving the entire force of her body through her fist and into the side of the guy’s right knee. There was a loud crack, probably not audible to human ears over the noise of the music, then a much louder scream that definitely was audible, and the guy went down. The best part came after Mio hit him. She spun around a full turn and a quarter in a kind of figure skating-kung fu-tango move, and melted inconspicuously back into the dancers. Neither the guy, nor anyone else around them, seemed to have a clue as to what had just happened. By the time Karla had regained her balance, Mio had calmly taken her by the arm and was walking her toward the stairs.
“Mother of God!” Karla said, when she got back to our table. “I need another drink!” She wiped the sweat off her forehead with a napkin and beckoned at a nearby waitress. “How about you, Tony? You want another beer?”
Tony nodded and Karla ordered his beer, along with another Screaming Orgasm for herself. She daubed more sweat off her face and looked at Mio. “Damn, woman! You haven’t even broken a sweat!”
“Sweetheart,” Mio said calmly, “I’ve barely warmed up.”
Mio’s words were directed to Karla, but her eyes were on me. I’d noticed the endearment, “sweetheart,” but I was more interested in what was happening on the dance floor.
“What do you see, Shake?” Mio asked.
I had to admit, it was a little too good to be true. I stood up and moved to the rail for a better view. Mio followed. “The guy whose leg you tapped,” I said, “you see the big guy helping him off the dance floor? When he turns, check out the back of his right hand.”
The big guy was helping the injured man to the front of the club where a waitress had brought down a chair for him to sit on.
“Four-o-four,” Mio said. “One of your Ukrainians?”
“Very possibly,” I said, pointing. “He came through that door behind the bar.”
The big guy was on his cell phone, probably calling an ambulance. The one with the knee problem was clearly in a lot of pain. He was gripping his injured leg by the thigh, his face constricted in agony, his head rocking forward and back as if he were emphatically answering a question no one was asking. The waitress who’d brought the chair had gone and come back with a glass of something strong for him to drink. Meanwhile, the guy with the tattoo had been joined by a second large specimen, also possibly Ukrainian, but younger and without the tattoo. These two milled around the front of the club until an ambulance pulled up outside. An EMT came in, assessed the situation, then radioed for her partner to bring in a wheel chair. When they’d rolled the guy out, the two maybe-Ukrainians went back through the door behind the bar.
“What do you want to do?” Mio asked.
It was a little after 11:30. The club closed at 2:00. “I think I’ll just watch for a while, see if one of them leaves. If he does, depending on what time it is, Tony and Karla can stay here while we have a talk with him outside.”
“And if they’re both still here at 2:00?”
“Don’t know yet. I’ll think about it.”
Mio and I returned to our table. I sat down but she wanted to dance some more.
“Rested up?” Mio asked Karla.
Karla had finished her drink and was eating the ice. “Maybe Tony would like to dance some?”
All three of us looked at Tony. His eyes moved slowly from Mio to Karla and back again. “I’m happy right here,” he said.
“Tony’s not too keen on dancing,” Mio said. “His idea of a good time usually has something to do with fuel injection.” She stood up and placed her hand on Karla’s shoulder. “Come on. I want you to show me some of your moves.”
Chapter 18
Just before midnight, the tattooed Ukrainian came out from behind the bar. This time he was wearing a leather jacket. After a
