Dead Money by John Montesano

Author:John Montesano [Montesano, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-25T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

65

Women.

I understood why Marconi wanted control of the prostitution ring in the city. Just something else to manipulate. However, his vested interest in Dakota was what continued to hammer away at my already pulsating skull.

I came right out with it.

“How can a kid like Dakota contribute to your sleaze-bag operation of slinging sluts around the city?”

Marconi laughed a hearty laugh.

“You’re missing the operative word, Mr. Barnes. It is not how can a kid like Dakota contribute to my lucrative business. It’s how can he continue to contribute. It’s a shame that Dakota hasn’t been completely forthright with you. I’ll do the honors,” he said.

He indulged me with a long-winded spiel about how he’d been keeping tabs on Dakota for months. A plausible belief considering how much time Dakota spent in the casinos. Marconi documented his every move, his every bet, his every drink. Most notably was Dakota’s ability to pick up any woman that crossed his path. He was suave, confident, but not too arrogant. He had a penchant for attracting beautiful women with his witty banter, ending with a visit to his hotel room. Some of which belonged to Marconi and came with a nonnegotiable fee. His lavish interest in loose women piqued Marconi’s interest. Ignited a spark in his corrupt mind.

“So, I’d call Mr. Martin an indirect investor, if you will,” Marconi added.

Shocked? Sure. Surprised? Not really. But what floored me more was Marconi’s revelation that he and Dakota had previously spoken about pursuing such a business venture. Dakota, according to Marconi, expressed a great deal of interest in the partnership, which explained the interest in keeping Dakota alive.

Marconi frequently checked his watch. Waiting for something. A pair of hushed conversations with two of his watchdogs followed each check of the wrist. A heated command brought each conversation to an abrupt halt. It sounded like, from what I could make out, Marconi ordered them to ‘find him.’ Both goons went to their cell phones.

I had the urge to turn the screws a bit tighter.

“Troubles, Bubbles?” I asked.

Marconi became obsessed with the progressive developments with his guys. One unexpectedly bolted for the door.

“Not that it concerns you, but this is what we do when one of my guys hasn’t made good on a collected payment. You should stick around to see what happens when we find him,” he said.

“That’s too bad. He’s probably had enough of your shit and skipped town.”

“He knows better.”

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