“He arranged murders. Sort of like a broker, a go-between. If you wanted someone killed, you’d go to him and he’d get someone to do it.”

“You sound upset talking about him.”

“It bothered me that Carl wanted to play in a high-stakes game with someone who did that for a living. I said to him one day, ‘You really want to play poker against a guy who sets up mob hits? A guy who doesn’t think twice about having someone murdered? Isn’t that a little nuts?’ He told me that I didn’t understand. He said gambling was all about the risk and the rush. And the risk and the rush were a lot bigger when you were sitting across the table from Death.” She paused. “Look, I don’t have much more time. Are we done?”

“Just one more thing. How come there was such a long delay between Mary Spalter’s death and her burial?”

“What delay?”

“She was buried on a Friday. But it appears that she must have died a week before that—or at least before the previous Sunday.”

“What are you talking about? She died on a Wednesday and was buried two days later.”

“Two days? Only two? You’re sure about that?”

“Of course I’m sure. Look up the obituary. What’s this all about?”

“I’ll let you know when I find out myself.” Gurney glanced over at Hardwick. “Jack, you have anything you need to cover with Kay while we have her on the phone?”

Hardwick shook his head, then spoke with exaggerated heartiness. “Kay, we’ll be in touch with you again soon, okay? And don’t worry. We’re on the right track for the outcome we all want. Everything we’re discovering here is a plus for our side.”

He sounded a hell of a lot surer than he looked.

Chapter 22

The Second Bouquet

After the Kay Spalter call ended, Hardwick maintained an uncharacteristically long silence. He stood staring out the den window, seemingly lost in a series of what-if calculations.

Gurney was sitting at his desk watching him. “Spit it out, Jack. It’ll make you feel better.”

“We need to talk to Lex Bincher. I mean soon. Like now. We’ve got some shit here we need to sort out. I’m thinking that’s Priority Fucking One.”

Gurney smiled. “And I’m thinking Priority One is a visit to the assisted living place where Mary Spalter died.”

Hardwick turned from the window to face Gurney directly. “See? That’s my point. We need to get together with Lex, sit down, have a meeting of the minds before we bust our humps chasing every wild goose that flies by.”

“This one may be more than a wild goose.”

“Yeah? How so?”