women. She took Carlucci's hand. She was no jock, but she knew she had a firm grip. Cordelia felt that the man could have squeezed her fingers a lot harder had he wished to. Behind his smile, she sensed a glint of something feral. Not a man to cross.
"Mr. Carlucci," said Alcala, "represents a large investors' group that has entered into partnership with us in the matter of acquiring a major share in global satellite entertainment. They are providing a portion of the capital with which we expect to set up the initial satellite net."
"A lot of bucks," said Carlucci. "But we'll all make it back and probably ten times as much in about five years. With our resources and your ability to"-he grinned-"acquire talent, I figure there's no way we can lose. Everybody makes out."
"But we do wish to saturate the Australian market," said Alcala, "and the ground station is already in place. All we need is a signed letter of intent to sell."
" I can be very persuasive." Carlucci grinned again. To Cordelia the expression looked like a barracuda showing its teeth. Or maybe a wolf. Something predatory. And definitely persuasive.
"You'd better go pack, dear," said Alcala. "Try for one carry-on bag. Enough clothes to last a week. One sophisticated outfit; a more comfortable one for the outback. Anything else you need you can buy there. Alice Springs is isolated, but it is not an uncivilized place."
"It ain't Brooklyn," said Carlucci. "No," said Alcala. "No, it isn't."
"Be at Tomlin," said Rettig, "by four."
Cordelia glanced from Carlucci to Rettig to Alcala. " I meant it before. Thank you. I'll do a good job."
"I know you will, dear," said Alcala, her dark eyes suddenly looking tired.
"I hope so," Rettig said.
Cordelia knew she was dismissed. She turned and headed for the door.
"See you on the plane," said Carlucci. "First class all the way. Hope you don't mind smoking."
She hesitated only momentarily, then said firmly, "I do." For the first time Carlucci frowned. Polly Rettig grinned. Even Luz Alcala smiled.
Cordelia lived in an apartment with a single roommate in a high rise on Maiden Lane near the Woolworth Building and Jetboy's Tomb. Veronica wasn't home, so Cordelia scrawled a brief note. It took her about ten minutes to pack what she thought she'd need on the trip. Then she called Uncle Jack and asked whether he could meet her before she hopped the Tomlin Express. He could. It was one of his days off.
Jack Robicheaux was waiting for her in the diner when she entered from the avenue. No surprise. He knew the transit system below Manhattan better than anyone else.
Every time Cordelia saw her uncle, she felt as if she were looking into a mirror. True, he was male, twenty-five years older, sixty pounds heavier. But the dark hair and eyes were the same. So were the cheekbones. The family resemblance was undeniable. And then there was the less tangible similarity. Both had despaired of any kind of normal growing up in Louisiana; each in young adulthood had fled Cajun country and run away to New York City.
"Hey, Cordie." Jack rose to his feet when he saw her, gave her a firm hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"I'm going to Australia, Uncle Jack." She hadn't meant to give away the surprise, but it burst out anyway.
"No kidding." Jack grinned. "When?"
"Today."
"Yeah?" Jack sat down and leaned back in the green Naugahyde seat. "How come?"
She told him about the meeting.
Jack frowned at the mention of Carlucci. "You know what I think? Suzanne-Bagabond-has been hanging around Rosemary and the DAs office, feeding me a little spare-time work. I don't hear everything, but I catch enough. I think maybe we're talking about Gambione cash here."
"GF&G wouldn't go for that," said Cordelia. "They're legitimate, even if they do funnel money from the skin mags."
"Desperation breeds a special blindness. Especially if the money's been laundered through Havana. I know Rosemary's been trying to steer the Gambiones into legitimate enterprise. I guess satellite TV qualifies."
"That's my job you're talking about," said Cordelia. "Better than hooking for the big E"
Cordelia knew her cheeks were coloring. Jack looked repentant. "Sorry," he said. " I wasn't trying to be bitchy."
"Listen, this was really a big day for me. I just wanted to share it."
"I appreciate that." Jack leaned across the Formica table. " I know you're gonna do just fine down under. But if you need any help, if you need anything at all, just call."