Gio drew himself up stiffly. “Yes, Mr. D.”
Finch shook his head. “I don’t want my staff thinking they can frighten me into my rabbit warren just by stealing some cash, Gio. I need them to understand I won’t let them get away with any shit. They need to fear me just as much as Luca. And believe me, I will shoot any motherfucker who comes at me. Besides, Iwant you two to search that break room again. Maybe…maybe Brady snuck half the cash under the table or…” He threw up his arms. “I don’t know.”
“You think Brady did it?” Hudson asked.
“He’s newest on staff and he’s dumb as shit. But what would be his motive? I haven’t told him tonight’s his last night.”
Gio cleared his throat. “No offense, Mr. D, but I think Brady already picked up what you were puttin’ down. Hell, even I knew the dude was getting fired, and I’m not even here every night. Plus he woulda known tonight’s takings would be huge. A nice fat severance package, you know what I’m saying?”
Gio was right, Hudson reflected, that Finch hadn’t made any effort to sandwich negative feedback between compliments for Brady. He’d just told the DJ straight out, multiple times, that he sucked. Probably not even Brady could be dumb enough to miss the writing on the wall.
Finch shrugged. “Maybe. But if Brady did it, I still can’t see Ziggy being involved. He knows what would happen if he stole from us. And he has no reason to cover Brady’s ass.”
“But hewasright there counting with Brady,” Gio countered. “He’d have to be pretty fucking blind not to see Brady slide a brick-sized wad of cash into his pocket.”
“Brady could have gone out to the cloakroom, hidden the money there,” Hudson pointed out. “Which iswhy—” Gio gave him a warning glance, and it occurred to Hudson that sayingI told you soto someone like Finch D’Amato was probably not a great idea.
But Finch seemed to have heard the unsaid end to the sentence. He gave Hudson a cold look. “You said yourself, you heard themarguing in the room the whole time. Wouldn’t you have noticed if one of them was suddenly shouting from the cloakroom? Wouldn’tZiggy, for that matter?”
“Yeah,” Hudson said, crestfallen. All his good ideas seemed to turn into bad ones.
Finch took pity on him. “Go check the coats,” he said again. “Afteryou let those guys out of the break room and send them back up here. But Gio—check them all again for the money before you let them come back up, okay? I know you patted them down before, but just for my own peace of mind.”
“Will do, Mr. D.”
None of the men were very amenable to being patted down for a second time by Gio. He made them all stand in the middle of the dance floor, hands on their heads, legs apart, in what Hudson thought was an eerily accurate imitation of how Gio had said Luca D’Amato would position them before shooting them all.
“Why isn’t Hudson lined up here like the rest of us?” Ziggy demanded.
“Because Mr. D trusts him, which is more than I can say for the rest of you assholes,” Gio said calmly.
“I don’t see why Mr. D is so suspicious of us,” Art protested. He was first in line, and Gio had come up behind him, putting his hands everywhere. “I was nowhere near the money!”
“No, but you found the body,” Gio pointed out, and quickly but thoroughly felt him over. He even slid his hands into the guy’sjeans pockets, despite his protests. “Okay. Clean. Why don’t you go on up to Mr. D now and explain to him why his suspicions are so wrong. I mean it,” he added, as Art hesitated. “He wants you all back up there with him so he can start checking your phones.”
“I’ll wait for the other guys,” Art mumbled.
Gio put his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. “I said,go on up. You hear me now, old man?”
“Ah, fuck you, Carlucci,” Art said, but he ambled off, spitting on the floor as he did.
“Joke’s on him,” Gio said conversationally to the rest of the line. “Motherfucker’s gonna be cleaning up his own spit when we’re done.Ifhe ain’t our guy, of course. Because if he is, I’m betting Luca D’Amato’s gonna make a mess outta him on this dance floor.”
“Quit talking and get on with it,” Ziggy snapped.
“Okay, since you’re so hot for it,” Gio said, and began to pat down Ziggy. Hudson was glad Gio stopped the shit-talking while he did. Ziggy was usually a really decent guy, and he had good reason to be unhappy with the way things were going tonight. Ziggy’s wife had died years back, leaving him to raise their daughter alone. He worked nights at Kismet to put her through private school, even though he hated leaving her alone overnight. Although it was already morning, Hudson realized. Time moved differently in a nightclub, but it must have been getting close to six by now.
Close to the time Luca D’Amato would walk through that front door and start asking questions.
“Okay,” Gio said, stepping back from Ziggy. “Clean. Go on, now.”
Ziggy started walking away briskly without even looking over his shoulder, but turned back when Brady suddenly started shouting. “Don’t you walk away, you asshole! What the fuck is this shit, Carlucci? You didn’t even check that motherfucker’s pockets!”
CHAPTER
NINE
“The hell are you talking about?”Gio demanded, glaring at Brady. “I checked them.”
