The Venetian and the Rum Runner - L.A. Witt Page 0,12
course they were—no one who’d encountered them would have questioned that they worked for the hotel. That they belonged here.
“This your whole crew?” Carmine looked from one to the next. “Or did some of your men get away?”
They stared up at him. Two gulped. The older redhead set his jaw, as if he were ready to be defiant, but the hint of a crease in his forehead suggested he was thinking better of it. The fourth was unreadable. None of them spoke.
Carmine took out the piece of paper on which Detective Higgins had written their names. “Which of you is Thomas O’Brien?”
All four twitched, but one averted his gaze to the floor at their feet.
The two on the end—both brown-hair and brown-eyed—were clearly brothers. The Walshes, Liam and Patrick. That left the redheads.
“Well?” Carmine pressed. “Which of you is Thomas O’Brien?”
Two didn’t respond at all. The youngest boy gave it away without even realizing it—one nervous glance to the heavily-freckled boy, and he all but announced who it was.
Carmine came closer. Towering above the seated redhead, he lifted his chin and looked right in his eyes. “Are you Thomas?”
The redhead, who was definitely Thomas, gulped. “Who wants to know?” He was trying like hell to be bold and fearless, but the shakiness in his voice gave him away.
Moving slowly, Carmine came closer, never once taking his eyes off the redhead’s. “Do you know who I am, kid?”
Thomas narrowed his eyes, and he tried and failed to sound defiant as he said, “Should I?”
Carmine leaned in and lowered his voice. “I’m someone whose questions you would be wise to answer right now.”
Beside the redhead, the youngest fidgeted and squirmed.
Carmine kept his gaze fixed on Thomas.
One of the two brothers spat something in what sounded like Irish, and Thomas growled back in English, “He can’t let us go.” Eyes locked on Carmine, he added, “Only the cops can.”
Carmine let his grin slowly come to life. “Is that so?”
Thomas swallowed, but he nodded. “It’s them that arrested us. Not you.”
“All right. All right, that’s true.” Over his shoulder, Carmine called out, “Officer.”
The cop stepped back in. “Yes, sir?”
Eyes still never leaving the redhead, Carmine said, “Bring Detective Higgins in here.”
The boys kept fidgeting and exchanging worried glances. When Higgins stepped into the room with the uniform on his heels, all four of them blanched.
Carmine turned away from the four boys and lowered his voice so only Higgins could hear him. “Let them go.”
“What?” Higgins stared at him. “I can’t just—”
“They’re petty thieves, Detective.” Carmine tucked a few more bills into Higgins’s breast pocket. “They’ll stay out of trouble after this.”
“They’re petty thieves who got their hands on Plaza uniforms and made it into the most expensive—”
“I’m aware of that. But they will stay out of trouble.” Carmine gave the bills an emphatic tap. “Let them go.”
The detective hesitated, glancing back and forth from the thieves to Carmine. Finally, he exhaled. “They’re all yours.” Gesturing at the officer, he added, “Uncuff ‘em.”
“Wait.” Carmine put up a hand. “Keep them cuffed for now.”
Higgins scowled. “I don’t play games with—”
“Keep them cuffed,” Carmine growled. “In a moment, they’ll be yours to set free.”
The detective was clearly not happy, but he already had a bribe in his shirt pocket, and he wasn’t stupid. So with an irritated grumble, he gestured for the uniformed officer to follow him. “All right,” he said on his way out. “Soon as you’re through with them, they’re free to go.”
With the cops once again out of the room, Carmine faced the boys. Their eyes were wide, and their already fair-skinned faces had paled.
“Now.” Carmine folded his arms across his tuxedo. “Where were we?”
One of the older boys sat straighter. “What do you want? You gonna let us go, or what?”
“Oh, I am.” Carmine nodded. “But before I do, I need you all to do me a favor.”
Four sets of eyes widened. He was sure he could feel their hearts racing with renewed fear.
“I’m not going to spend all night figuring out which of you is which. The point is that I know all your names.” Carmine held up the piece of paper again, and he read each of their names in turn. “I’ve got your names, and Detective Higgins has your addresses.” Sliding the paper into his inside pocket, he added, “Don’t think for a moment that I won’t be able to find any one of you after tonight. Understood?”