“Anyone feel like a little lunch on me?” said Alex, stepping in with his signature smile. Everyone glared at him. “Don’t look at me. I’m just a three-time Emmy award-winning actor offering to get you some of New York’s best pastrami.”

              “I like mine with mustard,” put in Phillips.

              “Caramelized onions,” said Kim.

              “A side of pickle,” mumbled Jacob.

              “Good!” Alex said, gathering the officers together and patting them roughly on the back. “Glad we can at least agree on our love of smoked meat. Be back in a jiff!”

Chapter Fifteen

              Alex pulled his black Alfa Romeo 4C sports car into his building’s parking lot. Once again, he silently congratulated himself on driving such an awesome car. Once he landed the lead role on New York Vendetta he’d buy another one, but in silver.

              He strolled to the elevator and zipped up to penthouse suite, inserting a special keycard to enter. The doors swished open and he flicked on the lights, revealing an uber-modern, sleek space full of classic posters of his movie icons such as De Niro, Brando, and of course, Bogart. Sighing happily, he walked over to his well-stocked bar and began mixing up his favorite dry martini. He was just pouring the gin into the shaker when a sound froze him in his tracks. It was a dry, repetitive sound, one that Kane knew well from his jaunts to Vegas. It was the sound of cards being shuffled.

              He turned slowly, dreading what he might see. There stood a man of medium height, dressed in perfectly innocuous clothes except for a black mask on his face and a sword tucked into a long cane sheath.

              “I’m guessing you’re not the new doorman,” Alex squeaked.

              “Mr. Kane, I’m sorry to barge in like this. Please excuse my manners. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve helped myself to your mineral water while I was waiting. I was rather thirsty.”

              “Not at all,” Alex said, backing towards his cabinet. “Please, make yourself at home.”

              “I hope you’re also not offended that I took the liberty of removing your 9mm to a safer location – my pocket.”

              Alex stopped. “Right. If you found my mineral water, why wouldn’t you find my gun?”

              “Precisely. Now, Mr. Kane, let’s get down to business. I think we both know that this isn’t a social call. I hate to involve you in my affairs, especially since you only recently became affiliated with New York’s Finest. However, I need to put a little pressure on one Miss Kimberly Daniels. She so unfortunately broke up my little poker ring. Even worse, she took the pot. Now, that just wasn’t supposed to happen. Mr. Kane! I must insist, please don’t reach for your cell phone.”

              Alex’s hand stopped its descent down his pants pocket.

              “That’s really rather rude since we’re having a conversation here. Young people these days, just can’t do without their technology. Now where was I? Oh yes – Miss Daniels. You see, I just can’t let her little victory slide. I’m not a man who likes to be trifled with. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Kane?”

              “You’re wearing a sword and a mask. So I’m going to go with yes.”

              “Indeed. This brings me to a point: you’re going to be coming with me.”

              The feeling drained from Alex’s legs. Go off with a sadistic maniac who stabbed a woman in the back and ripped out her heart? There had to be another option. He looked around frantically as if expecting the detectives to emerge from behind his living room furniture.

              “Mr. Kane, let’s not make this difficult, shall we? I have a sword and your gun. You have a cell phone, which you won’t be able to reach in time, and two shaking pairs of legs. Do the math, sir.”

              “What do you want with me?” Kane asked, teeth gritted. “Why go at me when you want Kim?”

              “I need a little something to lure our lovely detective to me without creating a fuss. You’re quite the high profile character, so I’m sure she won’t just let you rot. Can’t be sure if she’s overly fond of you, but I’m fairly sure the NYPD won’t want to see you turned into minced meat on their account. From what I know of the detective, the force can count on her loyalty.”

              “Minced meat?” Alex croaked.

              “Or pastrami,” the mask chuckled. “Let’s not get into specifics yet.”

              Alex took one hesitant step forward, as if to test whether his legs would actually let him go to this freakish man. “And what are you going to do with Detective Daniels if she comes for me?”

              “When she comes for you,” the man corrected. “Let’s just say, the game’s not nearly over, Mr. Kane. Your Miss Daniels seems to have a real taste for poker. Then let her play! Those cronies don’t know a royal flush from a set of baseball cards compared to me. I think it’s time she competed with someone who’s closer to her level. Of course,” the mask said, lips underneath curving in a ghost of a smile, “she’s going to lose.”

**

              Kim put down her phone and ejected a groan of frustration. “What is up with Kane today? I’ve been trying to call him all morning. Either he finally nabbed his coveted role starring in a denture infomercial or he’s passed out at the Four Seasons with some nineteen-year-old model.”

              “You want to bet on that?” Phillips said.

              “Too soon,” Jacob put in. “Even I know that.”

              Kim tapped her fingernails on the phone’s screen. The case was going nowhere fast. Just then, Captain Woodside poked his head out of his office.

              “Daniels! A word.”

              Jacob and Phillips shot her similar looks of sympathy. She’d been trying to keep their lack of progress out of Woodside’s range of vision. She should have known that the Captain had an uncanny ability to sniff out a faltering case.

              Kim breezed into the Captain’s office and sat opposite him, trying not to look apprehensive. The Captain folded his hands and looked at her out of deeply lidded eyes.

              “Daniels, I’ve read through your reports. I’ve been trying to sit you down for a chat for a while now, but you’ve been rather elusive.”

              If Kim were the type to twirl her hair and bat her eyelashes, she would have done so right then and there. Instead, she sat woodenly, accepting the Captain’s implied criticism. “My apologies, sir. I’ve been juggling the Winters case and my new actor charity project.”

              Woodside sent a dark look her way. “I’ll get to Kane in a moment. But in the meantime, I’m catching a hell of a lot of ca-ca with your latest big bag. Politicians, bankers, CEOs – could you arrest a bigger headache for me? I’ve had those sharks they call lawyers up my behind for the past 24 hours like you wouldn’t believe.”

              “With all respect, sir, I didn’t invite them to a poker game tied to our vic’s disappearance. They did that all on their own.”

              “I’m with you on this one – it doesn’t look good. But we don’t have a shred of evidence to tie those high-rollers to the game that ended Virginia Winters’ life.”

              “I went on what I had, sir,” Kim said, re-crossing her legs uncomfortably. Either she had to invest in a cotton pantsuit, or Woodside’s office was devilishly hot.

              “Well, you’d better have a lot more to go on, pronto. Without new evidence we’re going to have to release these royal pains in the butt. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing – the lot of them act like they’re in goddamn Hilton. If I get one more request for an espresso or the Wall Street Journal, I’m going to blow a gasket.”