"Cops found her in a vacant lot up the Strip a little."

"Yeah?"

"Julius is upset," I said.

"He blames Anthony."

Marty said nothing. Below us on the Strip, cars moved steadily in both directions. Across a short spread of scrub desert, Route 15 was busy with trucks and cars and RVs heading west to California and east to Utah and the northwest corner of Arizona.

"I'm under the impression," I said, "that you and Anthony were in on some scam together."

"Lying little fucker tell you that?"

"I got that impression."

"It's bullshit."

"So why are you here?"

"I'm going to kill him and take my wife back."

"He didn't do anything to you," I said.

"She did."

"Don't matter who did what. He dies. She comes back."

"And if she doesn't want to come back?"

"She'll come back."

"Or?"

"No or. She'll come back."

"And you'll forgive her," I said.

"Fuck forgiveness. Forgiveness got nothing to do with it," Marty said.

"She's with me, you unnerstand? That's how it is."

"Maybe not," I said.

"You going to get in my way?" Marty said.

"You kill Shirley Ventura?"

"Why the hell would I kill Shirley Ventura?"

"What was the deal with Anthony?"

"I got no deal with Anthony, asshole. He collected money for Julius, passed some of it along to Gino."

"Through you?"

"Everything goes to Gino through me," Marty said.

"Makes it easy to skim," I said.

"Any skimming was done by Anthony."

"Bibi says you and Anthony were playing a two-man game," I said.

"You're a fucking liar," Marty said.

"Bibi don't know nothing about my business."

"Says you introduced her to Anthony," I said.

"Says she ran off with him to get away from you. Says you're a. pig."

It was a gamble to get him mad enough to say something wrong.

It didn't work. He didn't say anything. He swung at me. He telegraphed it some, and I was able to turn my hips against the railing as it came. The punch landed on my right cheekbone, and rocked me backwards, and sent me staggering along the railing. Marty could hit. If I hadn't half slipped it I would have gone down. I could feel the shock of it through my head. Everything darkened and for a minute I didn't see well. The railing helped keep me up.

"I'm sick of you, Spenser. You got that? I see you again and I'm going to fucking beat you to fucking death."

My head was clearing. I steadied against the railing as my legs re solidified and my knees unbuckled. Fighting with Marty Anaheim wasn't going to help me figure out what was going on.

I said, "Not here, Marty. Not now."

He extended his arm straight out from the shoulder and pointed his finger at me.

"You been warned," he said and turned and stomped back toward the emerald palace.

I glanced down the overpass in the other direction. The little guy with the Panama hat was leaning on the railing looking at me and shaking his head. I felt my cheekbone. It was hot and already puffy. I had learned nothing and gotten popped on the kisser in the process. I was willing to take one on the chops now and then if it furthered my cause. I wasn't sure my cause had been furthered.

But Marty would probably be overconfident next time. Which was a good thing. And Hawk would be amused. No cloud without a silver lining.

The little guy strolled down the walkway and tucked a small business card into my shirt pocket.

"Take a pretty good punch," he said.

"Yeah, it's one of my best things, but I try not to do it too often."

"I'm in business out here," he said.

"You ever need some work done, gimme a call."

"You figure I need help?" I said.

The little guy shrugged.

"I know I need business," he said, and strolled off toward the MGM Grand.

CHAPTER 28

When I got back to the hotel Hawk and Bibi were sitting in my room.

"Anthony's gone," Hawk said.

"Tell me about it," I said.

"Went in the bedroom to lie down," he said.

"Turned on the television, left the door ajar.

"Bout twenty minutes ago she went in to use the bathroom. He was gone. Chain off the hall door from the bedroom. I could look for him or I could stay with her."

Bibi sat forward on the front edge of one of the easy chairs near Hawk.

"Well, he didn't hire us to keep him in," I said.

"What I thought."

"He got any money left?" I said to Bibi.

She shook her head.

"He took ours," she said.

"Ours?"

"We had five thousand put aside, win or lose, to take us out of here, and give us a start. I had it in my makeup case. It's gone."

"Anything else?"

Bibi shook her head.

"He was going to be the one," Bibi said. Her voice was quiet.

There was no hint of tears behind it this time.

"He was going to be the one got me out of it, away from Marty. Find some town on the Oregon coast, start a store or something. Bookstore, maybe. I like books. He was going to bust The Mirage and then we were going to go to Oregon and open a bookstore."

"You have any money left?"

She shook her head again. Her face was still, her eyes were empty. If she felt anything it showed only in the slump of her shoulders as she sat on the edge of the chair.

"I was going to run it, read up all the new books, tell people when they came in what was good. Get a cat maybe, a store cat, let him sleep on the books in the window. You know how they stretch when they wake up and sort of slide around?"

"You got a plan?" I said.

"Even if he lost everything," she said softly, as if I hadn't spoken, "we had the five thousand. That was my idea. I kind of knew what Anthony was, and I wanted some money to be mine so he wouldn't lose it, and we could at least get to Oregon. I could maybe get some waitress work. I know he wouldn't work, not regular work. But if I got to Oregon, it wouldn't matter so much about him, then."

"You go back to Boston, Marty'll find you," I said.

She nodded.

"I don't want to go back to Boston," she said.

"He will not be forgiving of your little fling with Anthony," I said.

She shrugged.

"If you didn't go to Boston, where would you go, Oregon?"

"Oregon is no good now. He ruined it."

"You got to go somewhere," I said.

"What's the difference if I haven't got any money anyway?"

I reached into my right-hand pants pocket and took out Julius's money and handed it to her.

"Should be about five thousand."

"I can't pay you back."

"Why should you be different," I said.

"You want to go to Oregon?"

"No. Not now."

"You got family anywhere?"

"I don't want to see them," she said, "and they don't want to see me."

"Makes it nice and even. How about L.A. You ever been to

L.A.?"

"No."

"Time you went," I said.

I got up and made some phone calls leaning against the bar in the living room, staring out the window at the un-erupting volcano.