CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

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Bernardo Russo's incongruous Billiard House nestled amid multi-level apartment blocks and low-rise commercial buildings

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Bernardo Russo's incongruous Billiard House nestled amid multi-level apartment blocks and low-rise commercial buildings.

Brad's fingers drummed against the steering wheel. "Incoming."

Cherry emerged from the main doors, leaving her two friends inside. With a quick, serendipitous glance toward the parked Bentley, she gave the doorman a faux-smile and lit a cigarette.

I clicked my earpiece. "Tap once if you can hear me."

Her silver stiletto tapped the floor.

"If negative, tap twice," I instructed. "If positive, once."

Tucking a glittering purse under the nook of her arm, she gazed to the sky full of stars and awaited prompt questioning.

"From the outside looking in, the place seems quiet. Correct?"

Her foot tapped twice.

"Less than fifty people?"

Another two taps.

"More than fifty people?"

One tap to the floor.

"Fuck's sake," I breathed out. "Are your friends sober?"

Her shoe subtly struck the floor.

"Good. Are you in a position to dismiss them yet?"

Cherry looked conflicted, and then, her foot tapped the floor.

The head bouncer, a middle-aged, broad-shouldered man, pointed to Cherry's animal print dress. He complimented her vibrant red hair and dazzling blue eyes. If repulsed by his fawning, she did well to hide it. In actuality, she embraced his sweet-talk and cajoled him into gossiping inadvertently. "Yeah, it's decent," he said, fixated on her toned buxomness. "Eighteen quid an hour. I can't complain."

Listening to their conversation, I inquired, "Ask if he knows the owner."

"Yes." Cherry handed him a cigarette. "Do you know the owner?"

"Russo?" he mused, and she waited. "Yeah, I know him. Why?"

"Curious." She blew out smoke. "Is he the dude sitting behind the bar?"

My forehead wrinkled.

"Nah, that's Diego," he said, and Brad, tuned into their conversation, amplified the volume of his earpiece. "He left, right?"

Cherry pulled an unsure face.

"Yeah, I think he went home early," the bouncer talked openly. "Why do you ask?"

"About Diego?" she wondered, and his head shook. "Oh, the owner? I'm just curious. It's my sister's birthday next week, so I wanted to ask if the club provided party packages."

"Minx," Brad rasped, and her cheeks flared pink.

"No." He sounded uncertain. "At least, I haven't heard of any party packages. Why don't you ask him? He's due to arrive any moment."

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