I put my hands on hers and hold them still. “Ev. Tell me now. Are you being forced to stay with Edit and sign her papers? Did they threaten to kill me?”
Edit shudders with the effort of holding herself together, but she doesn’t answer.
I try another tack. “Don’t you remember your sister? My mother? How close we all were?”
Ev takes off her glasses with a shaky hand. “Screw you, Danny. That’s a cheap shot. Of course I remember how we were. Those days in Ireland, the three of us together. Those were the happiest days of my life. I think about those days all the time. In my mind there’s a glow over the whole thing. Like it was magic.”
This is exactly what I wanted to hear, but I don’t feel any better for hearing it.
“So what the hell is going on? I saved you.”
Ev’s eyes are the only part of her face that seem honest. There’s pain in there and a lot of mileage at the corners.
“Saved me? You delivered me to Edit.”
“I thought I was doing the right thing.”
Evelyn covers half her face with the oversized glasses.
“Right thing? Danny, right and wrong are for people with choices. I’m beyond that now. I expected to be dead in a year so I can ignore a little overeagerness on Edit’s part if it means I get to sleep in a clean bed and have some chick do my hair.”
This sounds terrible. Awful. Like the last nail in hope’s coffin.
“She tried to kill me, Ev. Those cops were gonna torture me.”
The corner of Ev’s mouth twitches. Is she smug all of a sudden?
“Yeah? And where are those cops now, Danny?”
Suddenly I am cut adrift from the last blood member of my family. Evelyn knows Krieger and Fortz are dead. It was a condition.
That’s cold.
“Aunt Evelyn. Ev. I can look after you. Edit is dangerous.”
Evelyn applies some lipstick. It is almost impossible to see her as the pungent lush I poured into my car last week. This new image is stomping down on the old one.
“Listen, Danny. I left home, went on the road, turned my back on the family. I thought that was it. Daddy would cut me off the same way he did to Margaret. Until a few months ago, I thought I was destitute. You wouldn’t believe what I did for a few bucks. I hurt people. I stole. I got with guys in bathroom stalls, Danny. For a shot of bourbon. So fuck all that, you know. Fuck it. I’m done with that life forever. And if it means that I gotta watch my back, hell I was doing that anyway.” She pats my hand. “You’re alive and I’m alive, and that’s good. So you gotta stop calling me with your Boy Scout plans. I am saved, Danny. I saved myself.” She pauses to set up the next statement. “And I saved you.”
It’s probably true.
“The bad guys are dead and the good guys live to drink another day.”
Not all the bad guys are dead. “I see you brought Pablo along.”
Ev laughs, and even her laugh is Manhattan and private schools now. “Pablo is a nightmare. He makes me do these stretches. I can barely sit down. And the latest thing is I can only drink champagne, which is pretty low in calories apparently.”
“What an asshole.”
“It’s for my own good. I want to get into a bikini this summer. Also, he drives me, I don’t have a license and even if I did I’m pretty much permanently over the legal limit.”
I smile wanly. “Everyone should have a Pablo.”
“Well, okay then,” says Ev, and I realize the meeting is over. “If I can do anything for you, Dan. Anytime. Please don’t hesitate to call.” Her head tilts in concern. “How are things with that local hoodlum, Irish Mike?”
Hoodlum? He’s been called a lot worse by his own mother.
“Mike is fine. I handled it.”
“Great, good, fab,” says Evelyn Costello, rising to her expensively shod feet. “So we see eye to eye, honey? We’re both fine and let’s just get on with things.”
Ev leans over and kisses my cheek, transferring a layer of lipstick.
“Edit and I are going to the Hamptons for a few weeks. We think it’s a good idea to get me integrated with the brunch-lunch crowd.”
“Just smile and be yourself,” I advise, but it’s all just empty words now. Just bullshit and passing time. We probably won’t ever see each other again.
“You are my family, Danny. Never forget that.”
Yeah, family. Right-o.
All I can do is nod.
I feel so depressed, like I just woke up and found my leg amputated.
Evelyn walks out of my life, a little steadier than she reentered it a week ago. You wouldn’t peg her for a drunk unless you were raised by one. She pulls her hands close to her chest the way rich folk do when they’re forced to wade among the plebs and waits for a sullen bellhop to get the door.
A fortnight ago Ev was rolling guys in motels for the contents of their wallets. Would I prefer that life for her? Who am I considering here—Evelyn’s well-being or my bruised pride?
While I am considering this, Pablo comes over, helps himself to a seat and treats me to a suspicious eyeballing. He’s wondering if I made him at Mike’s. Did I figure it out that he was the ninja?
This guy is ice.
He’s looking me over like I’m fish on a plate. I got stared at a lot as a soldier in someone else’s country and also as a doorman on a casino and usually I can give better than I get, but it’s hard to glare convincingly at a guy who can do what this guy can do with a rifle. This goes on for about five minutes until finally I break.
“Fuck it, okay. I saw your
bracelets when you flipped me over.”
Pablo slaps his knee. “I knew it. I knew you recognized me. Shit, McEvoy, five more seconds and you would’ve been off the hook.”
Balls. Five seconds.
“So what happens now? Are you gonna come hunting?”
“Are you kidding? I never had a gig so sweet. Evelyn insists that you remain alive. She even said you had to be healthy so I can’t put you in a wheelchair or nothing.”
This is a major relief and I have to stop myself from saying thank you.
“Good to know. But hey, I can kill you, right?”
Pablo laughs for a full minute, which is a little OTT I think. “I like you, Irish. You have a good imagination but your aura is clouded and the way you walk is affecting your spine. I could help you with that. Total Dimensional Control. That’s my system.” And then holy shit if he doesn’t slide me a business card. “Evelyn said whatever you want, so I could train you and she picks up the tab. Win-win.”
Being alive is win-win enough for me at the moment, but I take the card, and study the details. I don’t want to appear rude.
“Lemme have a look at the Web site and get back to you.”
“Sure, McEvoy. Whatever. No time limit on Evelyn’s money.” He rises smoothly and I see the power in his limbs, restrained but ready.
How did I not see before that this guy is a killer?
“Ciao,” says Pablo, all European, and then he follows Evelyn into the parking lot without a backward glance.
This is about the least threatening sit-down I’ve had for months, and yet when Pablo disappears through the revolving doors, I stride quickly toward the restroom and lock myself in a cubicle until I stop shaking.
I call Zeb from the Caddy because I need to hear a friend’s voice.
“Hey, Paddy McMickster,” he says. “Did you catch up with that Citizen Pain guy?”
“That guy is a gal,” I tell him, then go for an obvious setup. “Ronelle went out there with the Calvary to pick her up.”
Zeb sighs. “Cavalry, man. Cavalry. Calvary is where Jesus was killed.”
“Yeah, well you’d know.”
One–nil.
“Ooh, the Mick is bringing it to the table. You in a party mood, Dan-o?