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“Dames are funny when they’re gone on a guy. They clam up no matter what you do to ’em. It was a better bet to have her lead us to him.”
Emma’s hand, which was on my arm, tightened its grip. I did not ask how Desanctis came by his information about women. I’d already slugged him once tonight and didn’t need a fresh excuse.
“The delay gave Foxtrot a big head start,” I observed.
We reached the lobby floor, and Desanctis rounded on me. “What are you saying, Fleming? You think I wanted that bastard to run off? My head’s on the block for this.”
He might lose his job and get sent somewhere disagreeable as punishment, but Gordy was a fair man—in his own way. He wouldn’t order Desanctis put down without a compelling reason. Good help’s hard to find, and the man was good at his job.
“Why did she come to you, anyway?” he wanted to know.
“Emma needed someone to get her in to see the boss.”
“Maybe you’re helping the two of them lam it out of here.”
“Yeah, that makes perfect sense what with that grenade nearly killing us.”
“Neither one of you’s got a scratch. Maybe you set it off on purpose.”
“Gino, why would I blow up my own office? How could that possibly help either of them escape?”
He had no answer. While he was good at collections, it was a job that did not require much brain.
The light behind the lobby bar was still on. I’d had the idea that electricity for the whole building was gone. We took the curved hall into the main room and found the lights on there as well.
“Who else is here?” Desanctis wanted to know.
“Just us.”
“Someone put those on. We didn’t.”
“The building’s got electrical problems, always has. Ask anyone.”
The floor tables were stripped of their cloths, with chairs stacked on them upside down. They gave the huge room a forlorn appearance. The fixed tiers of booths arranged in a rising horseshoe shape with the open end toward the stage looked more normal. All they needed were people, but there was no show tonight. The stage was dark, its empty boards thick with sullen shadows. I was aware of every mood of this place, and it didn’t like being closed.
Our footsteps created hard echoes from the black and white tiles, turned hollow as we crossed the wood dance floor, then resumed hard again. A service door on the other side of the stage took us to a wide hall. It gave access to the basement, backstage dressing rooms, and wide double doors to the alley.
“Why didn’t you guys come in the front?” I asked.
“Didn’t want to get noticed,” said Riordan. “We saw the great boom, left a lad on watch for cops, and Gino kindly got the back open.”
“There’s a guy? I didn’t see him.”
“He’s in the doorway of the haberdasher’s shop across from ye.”
I stopped short of pushing forward to the outside. “No, he isn’t.”
“The streetlight doesn’t reach. Deep shadow.”
“Riordan, I’d have seen him. I took a look out the office window after the boom. He wasn’t there.”
Desanctis shoved past. “So what, he moved. Come on.”
&nbs
p; The lights flickered off-on, just the once. Myrna’s communication was limited, but that was her way of sending up the alarm. I stayed put, and Riordan and the others hung back with me, looking uneasy. Desanctis held the back door and watched us watch him for a long moment. He glanced either way in the alley.
“No one’s here,” he stated.
