Vendetta: Lucky's Revenge (34 page)

Venus.
His
Venus. In the flesh, only a few yards away from him. A dull red flush spread over his face.

“Gotta use the bathroom,” he mumbled.

“Now?” Donna hissed, not pleased.

“Yeah, now.”

Graciously, Abigaile said, “It’s to the left of the hallway, dear.”

Santo rushed from the room. Had Venus noticed him? Oh, jeez! He hadn’t planned on them meeting like this.

He darted into the john, slamming the door behind him. Fortunately he’d brought a joint with him. Groping in his pocket, he lit up and inhaled deeply, frantically trying to compose himself.

Tabitha, on her way downstairs, saw the fat boy enter the guest bathroom. She chuckled to herself. This was a good one, she’d burst in and embarrass him. Ha! That would teach her mother to force her to attend one of her moronic dinner parties.

She reached the door of the guest bathroom and flung it open. Santo, who’d forgotten to lock it, nearly jumped ten feet in the air. He was caught with a joint half an inch from his lips.

Tabitha took in the scene. Quick as a flash, she closed the door. “You must be that Donna person’s son,” she said.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Santo.”

“I’m Tabitha—the Stollis’ daughter. I notice you’ve got a nice, fat roach. Give me a drag and I won’t tell anybody.”

Aaron Kolinsky, the desk porter on duty at Alex’s apartment building, had a bad stomachache. Some of the tenants were enough to make any man ill with their stupid demands: “Walk my dog” “Get my car waxed” “Run to the market for me.”

What did they think he was? A one-man service? The
other guy working the shift was a young punk who knew nothing. He didn’t know shit. Aaron found that he had to take care of everything.

At seven o’clock, he quit for the night. He’d had enough. Seven o’clock in the morning until seven o’clock at night was enough for anybody to have to put up with these rich people and their constant demands.

He left long before Tin Lee put in an appearance. It didn’t matter anyway, he’d completely forgotten Alex’s instructions.

Tin Lee walked up to the desk, announced she was going to Alex’s apartment, took the elevator upstairs, and rang his bell.

No answer.

After five minutes, she came downstairs again. She was running over half an hour late, Alex was probably furious and had gone on ahead.

“Did Mr. Woods leave a message for me?” she asked.

“No, ma’am,” said the new desk clerk, more interested in reading his hidden copy of
Playboy
.

“Are you sure?”

“Nope. Nothing here.”

“Do you have a phone book?”

He handed over a big, fat, L.A. phone book. Fortunately, Mickey Stolli was listed. She copied down the Beverly Hills address and collected her car from the valet, thinking she’d arrive at the dinner in time to be seated. Alex would be delighted she was so resourceful.

Somehow she felt their relationship was about to step up to another level. And not a moment too soon. Tin Lee felt it was time she asserted herself.

SITTING IN ALEX’S PORSCHE ON THE WAY TO THE
Chateau Marmont, Lucky started talking and found she couldn’t stop. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” she said. “It’s family history.”

“So what you’re saying is that the Bonnattis always held a grudge against the Santangelos, and Donna is carrying on the tradition?” Alex said.

She nodded. “It goes way back to Gino, and Enzio Bonnatti, in the twenties. They were business partners in the beginning, bootlegging, speakeasies—they made a lot of money. Then Enzio got an urge to move into hookers and drugs, and Gino wasn’t into that, so they split their partnership. Gino went to Vegas, where he built hotels. Enzio took a different road.” She paused for a moment, lighting a cigarette. “Enzio was my godfather. I was over at his house all the time. In a way, I was closer to Enzio than I was to Gino. Until one day I discovered that Enzio was responsible for my mother’s murder
and
my brother’s. It was a shattering revelation.”

“Jesus!”

“I was devastated. But there was absolutely no doubt I had to do something about it.”

“Why you?” Alex questioned, his eyes fixed firmly on the road.

“Gino was in the hospital, he’d had a heart attack.” She pushed back her long dark hair, remembering the experience in vivid detail. “I went to Enzio’s house, lured him upstairs and…I shot him.” She took a long, deep breath. “Everybody thought it was self-defense. I told the cops he was trying to rape me.” Another beat. “It wasn’t self-defense, Alex. It was pure revenge.”

“And they never arrested you?”

“Nope. Gino had connections. Plus, I really made it look like I was defending myself.”

Alex took his time before answering. “That’s some story,” he said at last.

“Y’know, Alex,” she said thoughtfully, “if you wait for the law to take action, you may as well forget it. If somebody close to you was murdered, would you sit in a courtroom watching them pussyfoot around for a year or two? Or would you deal with it yourself and get real justice?”

He stopped at a red light and turned to look at her. “I don’t know what I’d do, Lucky.”

“The Arabs have it right—an eye for an eye.”

“Maybe…” he said slowly.

“Hey—you want the murderer locked up in jail working on his appeal while
we
pay the bills?”

“Not me.”

“And how about hearing how he’s found God, what a changed person he is—all that shit. Because we both know that’s what happens. Believe me, Alex, if somebody does something to me or my family, they’re going to get it back in spades.”

“I agree the death penalty
is
a deterrent, and they should put it into effect more often. But taking the law into your own hands…”

“Why not?” she demanded angrily. “The law is so fucking clever? I don’t think so.”

They drove in silence for a while until they reached the hotel. Lucky stubbed out her cigarette and got out of the car. The Chateau Marmont had a history of Hollywood scandals and was much beloved by actors and the artistic community.

“I’m crazy about this place,” she said as they walked through the hotel entrance. “I always expect to see Errol Flynn or Clark Gable in the lobby.”

“I didn’t know you were an old-movie fan,” he said, surprised.

“I
love
old movies. That’s all I ever watch on television. Old movies and soul music are my two passions.”

“You like soul music?”

“Crazy about it. Marvin Gaye, Smokey Robinson—”

“David Ruffin, Otis Redding…”

“Hey—you’re into it, too,” she said, smiling.

“I have a large collection of original records.”

“Me, too!”

“So,” Alex said, “what are we trying to find out tonight?”

“This guy, Ricco, was in charge of the extras. Jennifer said the blond in the photos was hanging around the set. She probably got herself hired purely to set Lennie up.”

“And you think Ricco can help you?”

“He did all the hiring. With unions and stuff, it’s not that easy to get into a movie.”

“Even in Corsica?”

“It was still an American production.”

“And if you find out Donna Landsman
was
responsible, what then?”

She gave him a long, mocking look. “Now, c’mon, Alex, you wouldn’t want to be an accessory, would you?”

He felt like he’d wandered into a scene from one of his own movies. Lucky’s rules were different from everyone else’s.

Jennifer was waiting in the lobby. “Glad you could make it,” she said, hurrying toward them.

“Meet Alex Woods,” Lucky said.

“A pleasure,” Jennifer said, her pretty face flushed. “Ricco wants us to go straight up to his room. I’ll call and tell him you’re here.” She went over to the desk and picked up the house phone.

“Pretty girl,” Alex remarked.

“Your type?” Lucky asked.

“No, Lucky,
you’re
my type.”

“Hmm…not into California blonds, huh? That makes you unusual.”

Jennifer returned and the three of them got in the elevator.

In a way, Lucky was glad Alex was with her. It was hard discovering how Lennie had been set up, and gut instinct told her it
was
a setup. Not only had they taken Lennie from her, but they’d wanted her to think he’d betrayed her, too. Donna Landsman was a cold and devious bitch.

Ricco flung open the door to his hotel room. He was a short, dark, Spanish man with an animated expression, a pencil-thin moustache, and a way of speaking rapid English—repeating words twice while waving his arms wildly in the air.

“Jennifer, my Jennifer,” he greeted her, giving her a big hug. “Is she not the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen?”

“Ricco,” Jennifer said, embarrassed by the compliment. “This is Lucky Santangelo, and Alex Woods.”

“I think perhaps I have died and gone to the heaven of the filmmakers,” Ricco exclaimed, rolling his expressive eyes. “Mr. Woods, an honor to meet you. I have worshiped every one of your movies. One day, perhaps you let me work on them. And Miss Santangelo, you have made some fine films at Panther.”

“Thanks,” Lucky said. “I guess Jennifer told you what this is about.”

“Exactly, exactly,” said Ricco. “Jennifer has told me and I do recall…yes, I recall the blond very well indeed, very well indeed. A beauty. She come to me and say, ‘Ricco, put me in the movie.’ I tell her no lines. She says fine, fine. I cannot understand why a beautiful woman like this want to be an extra, but I obliged.”

“Where can I contact her?” Lucky asked.

“Yes, yes. My assistant has gone to my files, and we give you an address in Paris. I have it for you—here.” He handed her a slip of paper.

“I appreciate it,” Lucky said.

“For you, madame, anything.”

They left his room.

“I thought it was important you spoke to him yourself,” Jennifer said.

Lucky nodded. “I’m glad I did.”

“It looks like somebody wanted you to think Lennie was playing around on you,” Jennifer said. “Although they couldn’t have known he was going to be in a terrible accident the next day.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this was planned,” Lucky said slowly. “I can assure you, Jennifer, Lennie’s death was no accident.”

Tin Lee drove directly to the Stollis’ mansion. When she arrived, she gave her car to a parking valet and entered the front door. A butler looked her over. “Can I help you, madame?”

“I’m Mr. Woods’s guest,” she said, giving the man her name.

He consulted his list. “Ah, yes…please go in.”

She walked through the spacious front hall into the
living room. Abigaile saw her coming. “You must be with Alex, dear,” she said. “I’m Abigaile Stolli.”

“Yes, Mrs. Stolli,” Tin Lee said, feeling slightly uncomfortable arriving on her own.

“Where’s Alex?” Abigaile asked, peering behind her.

“Isn’t he here?”

“Oh, I see…he told you to meet him. Don’t worry, dear, I’m sure he’ll arrive any moment. Go to the bar and have a drink.”

Tin Lee went over to the bar, where she was immediately pounced upon by a slightly inebriated Jeff.

“Well, well, well,” he exclaimed with a sloppy grin. “If it isn’t Tin Lee. How’ya doin’?”

Jeff and she had attended the same acting class. “I’m fine, Jeff,” she said, relieved to see a familiar face. “How are you? It must be a year since we’ve seen each other.”

“You’re as pretty as ever,” he said, slurring his words as he pawed her arm.

“Who are you here with?” Tin Lee asked, surreptitiously backing away from his touch.

“I’m living with Leslie Kane,” he said proudly. “She’s my gal.”

“
The
Leslie Kane?”

“You bet your cute little Japanese ass.”

“I’m not Japanese, Jeff,” she said stiffly.

“Whatever,” he said vaguely, unaware he was being offensive. “Who’re
you
with?”

“Alex Woods.”

“Holy shit!” He laughed too loudly. “Didn’t
we
do well?”

Leslie had gone over to Cooper and was trying to engage him in conversation. Unfortunately, Veronica was sticking to his side like superglue; plus, he had one eye on Venus, who was busy talking to Mickey.

“I’ve been asked to do a press junket for our movie,” Leslie said. “They want me to fly to London and Paris. Will you be going?”

“Hadn’t really thought about it,” Cooper said, still watching Venus.

“I’m sure it would help the movie.”

“You’ll do a good job on your own.”

She was bitter about his attitude. When their affair was secret and he could bang her whenever he wanted, he’d been all over her. Now that they’d been found out, he was treating her badly and she didn’t appreciate it.

“Are we allowed to smoke in this house?” Veronica asked, looking bored.

“Smoking’s bad for you,” Cooper admonished.

“I do
everything
that’s bad for me,” Veronica retorted, displaying horse teeth in a nasty smile.

Cooper laughed.

“I’ll have a smoke by the pool,” Veronica said, perfectly secure that she could do whatever she liked.

“I’ll come with you,” Cooper offered.

“No, wait a minute,” Leslie said, placing a restraining hand on his arm. “I have to talk to you.”

“Don’t worry, Cooper,” Veronica said, her deep voice jarring his nerves. “I’ll see you in a minute.” She strolled out to the terrace.

Cooper stared at Leslie as if they were no more than casual acquaintances. “What?” he said, aggravated.

“I need to ask you a question,” she said.

“Go ahead.”

“What have I done to you to make you behave so coldly toward me?”

“Nothing,” Cooper said restlessly, feeling trapped.

“We used to make love every day until your wife found out. Now you act as if you hardly know me. It’s not as though you’re with her anymore.”

Cooper was silent for a moment. He knew he hadn’t
treated Leslie fairly, but that didn’t mean she could hang on forever. After all, the girl was an ex-hooker—not exactly a sweet little virgin. “Listen, honey,” he said, hoping to get rid of her permanently. “Consider it a movie fuck.”

Her eyes filled up. “What?”

“It lasted while we were making the movie. This happens a lot in the business.”

“Are you telling me I didn’t mean anything to you?”

“At the time, Leslie. Not now.”

She was filled with mixed emotions. She hated him. She loved him. There was a lump in her throat, and she wanted to scream aloud.

“Don’t make a big thing of this,” Cooper warned. “You broke up my marriage, Leslie. That’s why we can’t be together again, because—and maybe I’m being unfair—I blame you.”

“You blame
me
?” she gasped.

“Yes,” he replied. “So stay away from me, Leslie. It’s better for everyone.”

“I need a drink before we go to the Stollis’,” Lucky said. “Can we stop somewhere?”

“We’re late anyway,” Alex replied. “May as well.”

“One drink, that’s all. I don’t plan on doing what I did the other night.”

“Why not?” he said lightly. “I enjoyed every minute of our adventure.”

They went into the bar at Le Dôme. He ordered a vodka and Lucky requested a Pernod and water.

“So now what you’re telling me is that you think Donna Landsman was responsible for Lennie’s death?” Alex said when their drinks came.

Lucky nodded. “Exactly.”

“Even with no proof?”

“Oh, come on, Alex. Who needs proof? I know for sure she hired a hit man to take care of Gino—her driver was the go-between.”

“
How
do you know?”

“’Cause I had the hit man at my house earlier, tied to a chair in my garage. Fortunately, the jerk was a total amateur. He confessed. She may have business smarts, only she certainly doesn’t know what she’s doing when it comes to hiring muscle.”

He was shocked. “You had him at your house?”

“That’s right.”

“Why didn’t you hand him over to the police?”

“Get serious, Alex—what was I going to say? ‘Oh, hi, Mr. Detective. Please arrest this man. Oh, yes, and I think Donna Landsman is responsible for setting up an accident in which my husband was killed. And she also hired a guy to shoot my father—this guy, in fact. She’s been a very bad girl and needs to be put in jail.’ I don’t think so!”

“Guess you’re right.”

“I
know
I am.”

“Jesus—you really say what’s on your mind.”

“You do the same thing in your movies.”

He downed a shot of vodka, clicking his fingers for another one. “Yeah—I put the feelings I’m unable to express in real life up there on the screen. A lot of my anger comes out in my movies. My theory is that’s why I never won an Oscar. Sure, my films get nominated because I know how to make a hell of a powerful statement, but the anger in them turns some Academy members off. Result—they don’t vote for me.”

“Is this a recent revelation, or are you in therapy?”

“Had a shrink. The guy told me plenty. Listening to you is better. I
do
know I have to take control of my own life. That’s the key to inner peace.”

“You’ve got that right. Look at me—I haven’t exactly
led a peaceful life, but I’ve learned to go with it. You can bet I’ll never have an ulcer.”