“So,” I said. “Sheryl Petty, besides sleeping around on her husband to get him to divorce her so she can take his money, is alsosiphoning a lot of money from him and using it to hire me to deliver unto him a fate worse than bankruptcy. Maurice Petty is sleeping with his wife’s little sister to get her to divorcehimso he can keep his money. But he can’t, because Cammy is embezzling his balls right out from his pants, while simultaneously cleaning out Sheryl, too.”
“Which is…wrong?” Viti guessed.
“Wrong to the third power, at least.”
She nodded firmly. “Where do the ghouls fit in?”
“Must be where she heard about me,” I said. “Cammy tells her sister about me, to keep Sheryl focused on Maurice. Even provides her with the money to hire me, because what are sisters for?”
“What a tangled web we weave,” Viti said solemnly.
“Very nice. And LaChaise and his people have Cammy’s office wired, because she’s coming into about twenty million bucks and they want to know when and where and how she gets it.”
“So that they can subtract her and keep the money for themselves,” Viti finished.
“And as a bonus,” I said, “Petty has nothing left. And his wife has me after him. They offer him enough money to keep him going, and they own Marcone’s money guy.”
“Couldn’t he go to Marcone for help?”
“Maybe,” I said. “But guys like Petty look out for themselves first. And Marcone doesn’t tolerate much nonsense in his organization. I think Petty would do anything to hide it.”
I pursed my lips thoughtfully.
“What are we going to do about it all?” Viti asked.
I thought about it for a moment and then smiled slowly.
Viti tilted her head.
“I have, after all,” I said, “been paid, and paid well, to balance the scales.”
I got my meeting with Baron Marcone at dawn the next day, in a building that was under refurbishment. He sat behind a battered old desk, a mature man in a tailored suit, with silver at his temples and no signs of weakness. His square, strong hands were folded into a steeple, his pale green eyes were calm, and a Valkyrie in a business suit lurked over his left shoulder, watching me closely.
“Mister Grey,” Marcone said, his tone pleasant and meaningless. “What brings you to me today?”
“I’m walking in your yard,” I said. “I wanted to let you know about it.”
“Mmm,” he said. “Please explain.”
I did. I laid everything out, including a report that Viti had generated for me.
Marcone glanced over the report. He was a speed reader. I suspected he had much in common with Viti, because he gave a micro-nod of approval as he finished.
“You are being uncharacteristically candid,” he noted.
“No reason to be coy,” I replied. “The ghouls are about to own your accountant.”
“So it would seem,” he said. “Petty has allowed himself to become a liability.” He closed the report and squared it carefully with the desk’s surface. “Why bring this to me?”
“Petty’s about to cause turbulence for your organization,” I said. “I thought I’d ameliorate things for you.”
He tilted his head. “Why?”
“I’ve been hired to balance the scales.”
“Not by me.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “That’s why we’re talking.”
