Jojo shrugged, not even trying to hide the fact that he was lying. “Simon Ledoux. In the flesh after all these years. What are you here for?”
“Where’s Tino?”
“How should I know?”
“You know everything,” said Simon. “Coluzzi’s in town. I figure this is the first stop he’d make.”
“’Cause you did?”
“Something like that.”
Jojo perked up. “Where you been all these years?”
“Here and there. I’m not in the game anymore.”
Jojo gave him a dubious look. “Then why do you want Tino?”
“He has something that belongs to me.”
“Sounds like him.”
“You know that thing in Paris? That was him.”
“Oh?” Jojo didn’t look surprised. Clearly, he’d considered the possibility himself. “You a cop?”
Simon shook his head. “Coluzzi stole something besides the money that I need to get back.”
“That sonuvabitch. I asked him if he was behind that. That was our M.O. all over again. He said I was crazy.”
“What did he want?”
“Came in here asking if I knew any Russians.”
“Russians? That’s odd. Do you?”
“One. Alexei Ren.”
“And?”
“He wanted my seats to the game so he could meet him.”
“Did he?”
“Don’t know. We didn’t part on the best of terms. We had an argument about some things in the past. That job in Paris wasn’t all that he was bullshitting me about.”
“Your hand?”
Jojo frowned. “He’s always been good with a blade.”
“Know where he is?”
“If he’s not at his place, he’s probably shacked up in that rat hole of his down the coast.”
“You ever been?”
Jojo shook his head. “Luca Falconi helped him build it. He said he liked the place because it was near his favorite bar. That one on the beach. Le Bilboquet.”
Simon remembered the picture of Coluzzi and Falconi in front of the beach bar. He’d left it in his briefcase. “Thanks, Jojo. And by the way, it wasn’t me who ratted out our guys. It was Tino.”
