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It was 1:10 now. He might have called Littell just a tad premature.

Pete sipped coffee and checked his watch every few seconds. Barb Jahelka walked in and spotted him.

Her skirt and blouse looked half-assed demure. No makeup did nice things to her face.

She sat down across from him. Pete said, “I hope you called Freddy.”

“I did.”

“What did he tell you?”

“That he’d never mess with you. And that your partners always make money.”

“Is that all he said?”

“He said you knew Le

Pete pushed his coffee aside. “Did you try to kill that dyke you shivved?”

Barb smiled. “No. I wanted to stop her from touching me, and I didn’t want it to cost me the rest of my life.”

Pete smiled. “You didn’t ask me what this is all about.”

“Freddy already gave me his interpretation, and you’re paying me five hundred dollars for a chat. And by the way, Joey says, ‘Thanks for the taste.’”

A waitress hovered. Pete shooed her away. “Why do you stay with him?”

“Because he wasn’t always a drug addict. Because he arranged to have some men who hurt my sister taken care of.”

“Those are good reasons.”

Barb lit a cigarette. “The best reason is I love Joey’s mom. She’s senile, and she thinks we’re still married. She thinks Joey’s sister’s kids are our kids.”

Pete laughed. “Suppose she dies?”

“Then the day of the funeral is the day I say goodbye to Joey. He’ll have to get a new girl singer and a new chauffeur to drive him to his Nalline tests.”

“I bet that’ll break his heart.”

Barb blew smoke rings. “Over’s over. That’s a concept junkies don’t understand.”

“You understand it.”

“I know. And you’re thinking it’s a weird thing for a woman to get.”

“Not necessarily.”

Barb stubbed out her cigarette. “What’s this all about?”

“Not yet.”

“When?”

“Soon. First, you tell me about you and Peter Lawford.”

Barb toyed with her ashtray. “It was brief and ugly, and I broke it off when Peter kept pestering me to go to bed with Frank Sinatra.”

“Which you didn’t feel like doing.”

“Right.”

“Did Lawford introduce you to Jack Ke

“No.”

“Do you think he told Ke

“Maybe.”

“You’ve heard about Ke

“Sure. Peter called him ‘insatiable,’ and a showgirl I knew in Vegas told me some stories.”

Pete smelled suntan oil. Redheads and bright stage lights-

Barb said, “Where are we going with this?”

Pete said, “I’ll see you at the club tomorrow night and tell you.”

o o o

Littell met him outside Le

Pete said, “The woman’s great All we need is Le

“I want to meet her.”

“You will. Is he alone?”

Littell nodded. “He came home with a pickup two hours ago. The boy just left.”

Pete yawned-he hadn’t slept in twenty-four-plus hours. “Let’s take him.”

“Good cop-bad cop?”

“Right. Alternating, so we keep him off balance.”

They walked up to the porch. Pete rang the bell. Littell screwed a crimped ugly look on his face.

Le

Pete pushed him inside. Littell slammed the door and threw the bolt.

Chic Le

“I thought we were quits, Ward. And I thought you only crawled around Chicago.”



Littell said, “We need some help. And all you have to do is introduce a man to a woman and keep quiet about it.”

“Or?”

“Or we hand you up for the Tony Ia

Pete sighed. “Let’s do this civilized.”

Littell said, “Why? We’re dealing with a sadistic little faggot who killed a man and bit his goddamn nose off.”

Le

Littell said, “We’ll try to make it interesting.”

Pete said, “Five grand, Le

Littell popped his knuckles. Le

Littell slapped him. Le

Pete stepped between them. They looked ridiculous-two bloody-nosed pseudo tough guys.

“Come on, you two. Let’s do this civilized.”

Le

Littell wiped his nose. “You didn’t seem surprised when Pete mentioned Barb Jahelka.”

Le

Littell said, “That’s not a real answer.”

Le

Pete lobbed a change-up. “Name some hotels Jack Ke

Le

Littell said, “Name some hotels.”

Swishy Le

Littell slapped him. Le

Pete said, “Name some hotels. Don’t make me get rough with you.”

Le

Littell pushed Pete into the hallway-well out of Le

Pete whispered. “He’s put it together. He knows what we want, so let’s close him.”

They walked back to the living room. Le

Littell looked ready to drool. Hoffa said he had ten months off the sauce. Le

Le

Le

Littell said, “When was the last time you saw him?”

Le

“Does he always go by Lawford’s place when he’s in L.A.?”

“Yes. Peter throws wonderful parties.”

“Does he invite unattached women?”

Le

“Does he invite you?”

“Usually, dear heart. The President likes to laugh, and what the President likes, the President gets.”

Pete stepped in. “Who else goes to the parties? Sinatra and those Rat Pack guys?”

Le

Pete said, “Who else goes to those parties?

Le

Littell stepped in. “I read that Ke

“That’s true, dear heart. And guess who’s throwing a party on the 19th.”

“Were you invited, Le

“Yes, I was.”

“Does the Secret Service frisk the guests or run them through a metal detector?”

Le

“Answer Mr. Littell’s question, goddamnit.”

Le

Pete said, “‘Barb, this is Jack. Jack, this is Barb.’”

Le

Pete smiled. “We’re upping your fee to ten thousand, because we know you’re way too smart to mention this to anybody.”

Littell pushed the liquor cart out of his sight “That specifically includes Sam Giancana and your Ouffit friends, Laura Hughes, Claire Boyd and Kemper Boyd, on the extreme off-chance that you run into them.”

Le