“Be my guest. A last word before you go…”

“Hmmm?”

He met my gaze. “You appear to be a bright young lady and I have no doubt you are quite capable at your chosen occupation. Choosing Jack as a mentor speaks well to your intelligence. However, a continued…alliance with him would not. There are three kinds of people in this business, my dear. Those who play the game, those who cannot and those who will not. Only a fool aligns herself with the last. You’d do well to remember that.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Should you ever be in need of employment, you know where to find me.”

Success. I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed that after the opera house. I walked out of that casino with such a spring in my step I attracted the notice of a prostitute standing outside, waiting for winners. She gave me a once-over, as if thinking maybe my gender wasn’t a complete deal breaker. I flashed her a wide smile, and she sighed before resuming her vigil.

I stepped into the side alley where I’d agreed to meet Jack. He was there, smoking one of his hated American cigarettes, his free hand drumming against the wall. When he saw me, he exhaled a long stream of smoke, then ground out the cigarette and dropped the butt into his pocket.

“You okay?” he said, squinting through the darkness.

“You’re the one I should be asking that. Lose any fingers?”

“None I needed.” His gaze slipped to my hand. “Where’s your gun?”

“I didn’t need it.”

“Nadia…”

“What?”

“You do have the gun, right?”

“Sure.”

“I mean now. On your body. Not back in the hotel room.”

“Would you have taken a gun?”

“Couldn’t. Guards found a gun on me-”

“You know what I mean. If it had been you going to see Gallagher, would you have taken a gun?”

He lifted his hand to his lips, as if forgetting he wasn’t still holding his cigarette. A scowl, then a sharp shake of his head.

“You get anything?” he asked.

“Gallagher went for the deal. He remembered the Fomin hit and he said it was done by a regular of his, someone who just recently retired. A hitman who goes by the name Wilkes.”

For a second, Jack said nothing, then he breathed a long, low, “Fuck.”

“That’s the guy you thought of first when I started rhyming off a profile of the killer. The guy that Evelyn said couldn’t be responsible.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think it could be him?”

Jack paused, gaze emptying as he thought it over. It took about a minute, then he gave a slow nod. “Yeah. Age is right. Haven’t heard much from him lately. Could have retired. He’s good. What’d Evelyn say? Technically adept. So…Gallagher still pissed?”

“At you? Yes. But I told him it was an attention deficit problem, and that helped.”

“Attention…?” A twitch of his lips. “I don’t want to know, do I?”

“Probably not, but it eased you a step out of his bad books.” We started for the sidewalk at the front of the casino. “Though he did warn me about you. Said you’re a bad influence.”

“Am I?”

“Apparently, you’re not a player.”

“There’s a game?”

“Yes, and you’re not playing it.”

“Never was good at games. Too many rules.”

“You seemed darned good at one game, at least. A little card-sharking in your past, I’m guessing?”

“Better a casino than a bank.”

“What’s that I hear? An ethical choice?”

“A safety choice.”

“Bullshit. You get caught robbing a bank and no one’s going to put a bullet in your brain. Is that the sort of thing Gallagher hired-?” I shook my head. “None of my business. Sorry.”

“Yeah, it is your business. Especially if Gallagher’s gonna offer you employment.” He glanced my way. “He did offer, didn’t he?”

“Yes, but the answer would be no, regardless of what kind of work it was. It’s like I’ve been telling Evelyn-with the Tomassinis I know what I’m getting and I’m getting enough of it. No need to go elsewhere.”

We hit the sidewalk beside the casino and Jack nudged me toward the parking lot, keeping quiet until we’d turned into the empty lane.

“With Gallagher? Never know what you’re getting,” he said. “Doesn’t matter. Not to him. He gives you a name-”

“Sir!”

A young man in a casino uniform was hurrying toward us.

“Sir,” he said, lowering his voice as he drew nearer. “I have a message from Mr. Gallagher.”

Jack nodded.

“He says he has more information on the man you were asking about. There’s someone he wants you to talk to. He’s arranged for a meeting tonight.”

“Where?”

“At a condo on H.G. Wells Boulevard.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Here’s the address.”

Jack took the paper, unfolded it, read it and frowned. “Where the hell is this?”

“In one of those new master-planned subdivisions. Adventura, they call it. In the north.”

“Near Centennial Hills?”

“Closer to Aliante.”

Jack studied the paper for a moment, frowning as if he was having trouble reading it. The lighting, while not great, was decent enough so I knew eyesight wasn’t the problem. I peered down the alley. Too long and empty for someone to be lurking down there. As I moved to the mouth, Jack stalled, asking the kid for better directions. I peeked, then moved out, standing watch and hoping no one mistook me for a hooker. A quick survey of the street showed people coming and going, but no one hanging about suspiciously. I glanced back at Jack and nodded.

After a few seconds, his voice floated along the alley, so soft I had to strain to hear him. “You said Mr. Gallagher gave you this message?”

“Not Mr. Gallagher personally, sir. I’ve never seen Mr. Gallagher. No one does.”

“So it was an employee?”

“I don’t know. I was on the door, and some guy came by with the message, and gave me a hundred bucks to deliver it.”

“Huh.” The crinkle of paper. “That hundred bucks? Look something like this?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You take that then. Matching pair. Now describe the guy.”

“Uh…I didn’t really get a good look at the guy. He was a guy. I know that. Or…well, I’m pretty sure…”

That’s all the kid could recall-that it had looked like a man. Size? Not noticeably big or small. Age? Maybe forty…or younger…could have been older, too. Distinguishing features? He thought the guy might have been wearing glasses. Short of hypnosis, that’s all we were going to get out of him. Listening in, I could tell he was worried about losing that hundred, and scrambling to come up with enough to keep it.

“I’m sorry, sir. I just wasn’t-I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Busy looking at Benjamin Franklin’s face instead?”

A sheepish laugh. “Yeah. You, uh, want your money back, I guess…”

“Keep it. Guy comes around? Asks how it went? You delivered the message. Seemed like I was going. Never asked any questions.”

“Yes, sir.”