The room began to spin again, and I lay down on my side. Canino didn’t move. “I just want to ask your boss a couple of questions,” I said half into the mattress. “This doesn’t have to get any more complicated than that.”
“What makes you think I have a boss?”
I rolled onto my back and draped an arm over my eyes. “Because you’re muscle, not brains. A smart guy would’ve sent someone to pretend they were Andrew Reese, and then I would’ve left without a fuss.” I gestured at the room. “ This sort of thing happens when a legbreaker has to suddenly work from the neck up.”
“You’re trying to hurt my feelings,” he said, amused.
“I’m trying to make the room hold still.”
Someone knocked. I raised my arm to see the girl bartender who’d suckered me open the door and peek in. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah, please, come in,” Canino said genially.
She slipped in and kissed Canino on the cheek. “How’s it going?” she murmured.
“He’s being obtuse,” Canino said. To me he said, “Isn’t she beautiful? She was a student in a private all-girls school before I met her. She had no idea of the effect she had on men. Gretchen, show him how effective you are.”
With a smile as vicious as any carnivore, Gretchen stepped away from Canino, turned her back to me and let her dress slide languorously to the floor. A lesser man would’ve applauded or cried at the sheer beauty she presented. Every muscle was perfect, every inch of delectable skin flawless. In the candlelight she seemed golden, and her dark hair shimmered. She had a multicolored dragonfly tattooed across the small of her back.
She looked over her shoulder at me. “I think he’s too old and fat to appreciate it,” she said.
Canino handed her the water jug. “He’s a thirsty man. Maybe you should give him a drink.”
She turned to face me. This angle was even more magnificent. She raised one bare foot and placed it on the edge of the bed in front of my face. Her toenails gleamed with dark polish. She rested the jug on her knee, then tipped it forward until water trickled down her shin. It sparkled in the candlelight as it ran off her toes and soaked into the mattress.
I met her eyes. I saw no compassion in them at all.
She straightened, poured some water into her palm and sprinkled it on her breasts. Then she handed the jug to Canino. “I think he must prefer boys,” she said mockingly. She bent to collect her dress.
As she reached down, Canino swung the half-full jug in a vicious uppercut right into her face. It shattered with a noise that made my teeth shudder. Water sprayed everywhere.
The blow knocked Gretchen upright, and she stumbled back into the door. Her hands flew to her face, and her breath came in little gasps. Blood seeped between her fingers and ran down her arms.
It took all my restraint not to jump up and do… something. But in my battered shape, Canino would have easily taken me apart. My heart thundered in my chest, but except for a slight start at the noise, I didn’t visibly react.
Gretchen began to whimper as her fingertips gingerly explored her face. The damage she found made her sobs grow louder and louder.
Canino’s expression remained impassive. “Think about this, Mr. Johnson. I’m actually very fond of Gretchen. You, I don’t even like.” He picked up her dress, then dragged her out into the hallway. I heard her first scream just as the door slammed shut.
TWENTY-THREE
I went back to sleep. What the hell else could I do? I had vivid dreams of both Cathy and Janet berating me for my idiocy.
I had no sense of time, but I awoke at the sound of another key in the lock. This one was furtive, though, and the door only opened enough for someone to peer in. I didn’t recognize the eyes, but I knew the distinctive voice. “Hello?” Spike whispered.
“Yeah?” I answered softly.
She stepped into the room. “Canino’s on his way back down. You don’t want to be here anymore.”
I nodded. I got to my feet, shook my head to clear the last of the cobwebs, and followed her into the hall. “In here,” she said, and gestured at the open door to the next room.
She locked the door behind us. It was dark except for the hallway’s flickering lamplight around the edge. We both put our ears to the wooden surface.
Canino’s measured steps approached down the hall and he stopped just outside my cell’s open door. He stood silently for a long time, and we did likewise. I just knew my every breath sounded like a bellowing ox and would give us away at any moment.
I did not hear a footstep, but the doorknob directly across the hall outside rattled. Then I heard a key, and the slight creak of hinges. After a moment the door closed again, and the lock slid back into place.
Again he moved so lightly I couldn’t hear it. He rattled the door beside the one he’d just checked, unlocked it, closed it. I listened so hard for his movement that I nearly yelled when the doorknob right beside me rattled.
In the dark, Spike clutched my hand.
The key slid into the lock. There was no place to hide, and nothing to be used as a weapon. I felt so weak that if he blinked hard at me, I’d fall over.
The key began to turn.
“Boss!” a muffled voice called, and rapid footsteps approached. “We’ve got a situation upstairs. That naval attache won what he’s supposed to win, but he’s drunk and won’t stop playing.”
Canino did not respond, but the key slid from the lock and two sets of footsteps receded.
Spike sighed. She struck a match and the flame rippled in her shaky hand. She lit the room’s single candle. Its furnishings and ambiance were identical to the one I’d just left.
I grabbed the water jug in the corner. It was only about a third full, and warm, but to me it tasted like damn ambrosia. I poured the last bit on my face and rubbed it into my eyes.
“You smell pretty bad,” Spike observed.
“Yeah,” was the only comeback I could manage.
“He’ll figure out where you went. But not for a few minutes. The only thing he likes more than pain is money. Here.”
She gestured at the bed. My boots and shirt were there, but not, I noticed with annoyance, my brand new jacket. “Why are you helping me?” I asked as I dressed.
“You saw what he did to Gretchen.”
“Friend of yours?”
She shrugged. “Not really. She’s just the latest member of the club.” She turned, having to twist her whole upper body to compensate for her immobile neck, and tapped one of the finials. “Who do you think stuck this in me, anyway? And do you know why? ‘Just to make a point,’ he said.” She snorted. “He made his point, all right.”
I laced up my boots. “I guess I owe you one, then. Do you want to get out of here?”
“Nah. Except for the neck thing, I’ve got it pretty good. Nobody bothers me, the money’s great, and I don’t have to put out unless I want to. It’s not bad.” Her eyes bore a hopelessness far beyond her years. “Canino thinks I’m his lucky charm.”
“Where are your folks?”
“Hmph. I have no idea who screwed my mom at the wrong time of the month. And she’s dead. And you can save the pity for someone who needs it. If you get the chance, kill that towheaded bastard and we’ll call it even. If not, well, messing with him is its own reward.”
I stood and tucked my shirt into my pants. I felt mostly human again. “Won’t he be pissed off when he finds out you helped me?”
She laughed. Again I was reminded of cloth ripping. “Like I care, old man. Like I care.”
Spike led me to a service entrance that opened onto the club’s private dock. It was sometime after midnight, judging from the stars and the moon, and the pier was dark and deserted. Launches, from two big pleasure schooners anchored far out in the harbor, bobbed next to smaller vessels.
