I turn back to the fountain. “It’s not like he even knows I’m a college student.”
“Don’t be so sure. How’d it go?”
“Wait—don’t be so sure?What does that mean? Do you think he might know who I am?”
“I think you really don’t want him to find out.”
“Fine. No more pennies,” I say.
“So. Last night. I want everything.”
I’ve thought about this moment carefully. How much I’ll say.
I’ve decided to breadcrumb him, giving him just enough to make him think I’m all in. Mafia gossip seems safe. Things that would be likely on the dark web or news articles seem safe. Things an observer could figure out. But private orimportant things about Luka that could be traced back to me? That’s where I draw the line.
I tell myself it’s for my own safety. Somebody has to look out for my safety, and I’m getting the feeling that Bender doesn’t give a shit.
“He was holding court at that Albanian restaurant where we met.”
“Of course. It’s his place,” Bender says.
“His place… that he owns?”
“He’s a powerful Albanian kyre,” Bender says like that’s an answer. “Who was there? What did they say? I want everything, start to finish, and don’t think about leaving anything out.”
I stare at the spray, not loving Bender’s harsh tone.
“There were six men besides me and Luka. Different men this time, except his friends Storm and Orton. He and Orton have known each other for twenty years.”
This seems to interest Bender. “Did he reveal where they met? Where they were?”
“He didn’t say. It was Orton who told me while he was checking me for a wire.” I relate what he said about Luka hearing all and seeing all.
“I sat down, and the only other name I got of the people there was Florian, this guy who came later, full of bad-guy gossip.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“People are starting to think some guy named Lazarus is alive.”
“Hold on—Bloody Lazarus?” Bender looks pale.
“Yes, Bloody Lazarus, the enforcer for one Aldo Nikolla. Very violent.”
“They think he’salive?”
“Not all of them. Some think it’s bullshit. The man apparently got blown up in a Hummer. Lots of C4. But his body was never found.”
“Jesus Christ. What does Luka think?”
“Luka was hard to read. He didn’t discount it. They said that Lazarus disemboweled a guy and put Pez dispensers in his hands.”
“Lazarus did what?”
Bender doesn’t know about the disembowelment? I’m happy to deliver on that count. I treat him to the goriest details ever—the pain, the blood, and how long the human intestine is, courtesy of things I learned in my Medieval Crime and Punishment seminar. Some of the people back in those days were really off the chain and invented truly wild punishments. It’s fascinating—it really is. To me, at least.
He stares at the fountain. “Jesus.”
“I know!”