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"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.
