Doppelgangster Part 40

Questioning the doppelgangster, which Max had been so eager to do, proved to be disappointing. As Max had previously postulated, they were not self-aware. Like the other ones we had met, this one was utterly convinced it was the real thing. Consequently, Max's probing questions revealed exactly what we would have learned from the real Elena Giacalona about the nature of the doppelgangsters, the method of their creation, and the ident.i.ty of their maker: nothing.

"I gotta go," Lucky said after we'd spent about an hour with the infuriated perfect double.

"Go?" I repeated "Where?"

"Someone's trying to kill Elena," he said, his face strained. "I've got to tell her and convince her to get out of town until this all blows over."

"Good plan," I said. If I thought Lopez would agree to get out of town, I'd pack his bags and buy the plane ticket. "Go on."

After the old hit man left, I took Max aside and admitted to feeling discouraged. Instead of being the killer, Elena was the next victim.

"I went way down the wrong track on this one," I said. "And we're still no closer to stopping the killer than we were yesterday."

"Don't lose heart," Max said. "Although you were mistaken about the widow, your suspicion of her did inadvertently lead to our saving her life by ensuring she and her perfect double don't meet. So some good has certainly come out of today's events. Moreover, my instinct is that we are getting very close to a solution. We may not be able to see it yet, but I feel as if it's just just out of reach." out of reach."

I, on the other hand, thought it seemed a million miles away. But I didn't think that saying so would help the situation, so I kept this opinion to myself.

The doppelgangster didn't want any dinner, but I was hungry by that evening, so Max ordered some Chinese food to be delivered. After it arrived, Max insisted I eat first, while he guarded the doppelgangster. Then I went back down to the lab to guard her while Max and Nelli took their evening meal.

I knew "the widow" wasn't the real thing, but she looked and acted so real, I didn't want to leave her alone and frightened in the subterranean laboratory tied to a chair.

I also knew that the situation was taking a heavy toll on Lucky. He wouldn't be able to behead this doppelgangster, nor to let Max behead it. It was too much like the woman he loved. On the other hand, we certainly couldn't release the creature. Left to its own devices, after all, the duplicate would sooner or later meet the real Elena Giacalona unless the widow went into hiding for the rest of her life.

I sat down on a spare chair in the laboratory, within a few feet of Elena's double, and wondered what to say to it. The doppelgangster didn't like me any better than the real woman did. Actually, since I was keeping it tied up in a cellar, it probably liked me even less.

After a few minutes of sullen silence, Elena frowned as her gaze moved over me. "That wretched dog has shed all over your dress."

"Oh. Yes." I brushed self-consciously at the increasingly unhygienic black knit material. "I slept on Nelli's couch. In this dress. With Nelli on top of me."

"Perhaps it's time to change clothes," the widow suggested with fastidious distaste.

"I don't have any spare clothes here. And I don't really want to go home until Lucky knows whether the Corvinos are planning to k-"

"Lucky." She scowled. "So what's he going to do, now that he's kidnapped me? Rape me and then feed my body to a cement mixer?"

"What? Oh, good G.o.d, no!" I was shocked. Okay, yes, he had murdered her second husband. But Oh, good G.o.d, no!" I was shocked. Okay, yes, he had murdered her second husband. But still still. "Look I know it sounds crazy," I said to the glaring doppelgangster, "but Lucky's trying to save your life." I blinked, realizing it wasn't this this thing's life that he was trying to save. "I mean, um-" thing's life that he was trying to save. "I mean, um-"

"Oh, nonsense!" she snapped. "His obsession with me has sent him over the edge! I wish his wife had never died! None of this would be happening if he still had a woman at home to look after him."

"Did he love his wife?" I had never asked him.

"Yes. And he mourned her death. Then when he was done mourning . . ." She gave a disgusted sigh. "He decided he was in love with me."

"I guess he's lonely," I said.

She made an exasperated sound. "Michael Buonarotti says he's he's lonely, too! That was his excuse for his disgusting behavior last night!" She added with satisfaction, "I pushed him down the stairs of my building." lonely, too! That was his excuse for his disgusting behavior last night!" She added with satisfaction, "I pushed him down the stairs of my building."

"Really? I thought you and Buonarotti seemed like you were starting to get along," I said.

"Not after last night. He's an animal!" She added with a dark scowl, "Well, I've had enough enough. I didn't press charges for the murders of any of my husbands, but I will have Michael arrested if he ever comes near me again, and I will definitely definitely prosecute Lucky for kidnapping me!" prosecute Lucky for kidnapping me!"

"None of the murders were prosecuted? I suppose that's because you were afraid for your life," I said.

"No," she said dismissively. "I stay out of the business."

"Pardon?"

She gave me an irritated glance. "Don Victor took care of Anthony Gambello's killers. I stayed out of that. And the deaths of Salvatore Fatico and Eddie Giacalona . . . It was business, and I stayed out of that, too."

"You think of Sally Fatico's death as business? business?" I said, stunned.

"That doesn't mean I don't hate Lucky for it," she said darkly. "But Sally . . . well, there's no denying he brought it on himself."

"By marrying you?"

"What? No." She glared again. "Being married to me was what kept him alive after they found out what he was doing."

I felt lost. "What was he doing?"

"He was cutting into the Gambellos' truck hijacking business." Her shoulders slumped for the first time since I had met her. "Sally was a bit of a fool. Dashing and handsome and romantic, and . . ." She sighed. "A bit of a fool."

"He was stealing stealing from the from the Gambellos? Gambellos?" A fool indeed.

"Lucky liked Sally, so he warned him. And when that had no effect, Lucky warned me. Normally I would-"

"Stay out of the business?"

"Yes. But I realized how serious this was. How dangerous. So I told Sally to stop." She shook her head. "But Sally just didn't believe they'd kill him. Because he was married to me, and the don was fond of me."

"I thought the don had tried to strangle you?"

"Yes, well, he has a peculiar way of showing his fondness," she said coldly.

"So . . . Sally wasn't killed for marrying a Gambello widow?"

"You read too many tabloids," she said. "Oh, Don Victor threw a violent tantrum the night I told him I had married Sally. That part of the gossip is true. But Lucky calmed him down-"

"Lucky was there?"

"Lucky was always always there. I think he's a workaholic," she said. "He told the don I was too young to remain a widow for the rest of my life. He pointed out that a priest had married me to Sally, so it couldn't be undone. And also that the two families weren't at war, after all. Well, not at the time, anyhow." She shrugged. "A week later, Don Victor sent me a wedding gift and his blessings." there. I think he's a workaholic," she said. "He told the don I was too young to remain a widow for the rest of my life. He pointed out that a priest had married me to Sally, so it couldn't be undone. And also that the two families weren't at war, after all. Well, not at the time, anyhow." She shrugged. "A week later, Don Victor sent me a wedding gift and his blessings."

"Well, that's that's a story that's become very garbled in the retelling." a story that's become very garbled in the retelling."

"Truth is seldom as well known as gossip." She shook her head. "And Sally wound up dead, anyhow."

"So the don ordered Lucky to kill him because he kept stealing from the Gambellos? Even after two warnings?" It wasn't a clean slate, certainly, but it was much more in keeping with the man I had thought Lucky was.

"And ten years later, the Corvinos killed Eddie for ratting on them to the FBI." She sighed. "I haven't chosen my husbands as well as I might have done."

"Who exactly killed Eddie?"

"I don't know. And I don't want to know." The settled expression of resigned unhappiness came over her face again. "It's business. I stay out of it."

When I came upstairs to the bookstore, Max asked, "Should I go downstairs and guard the doppelgangster?"

I shook my head. "She says she wants some time alone. I checked her bonds in case it was a trick. But they're secure."

Max was sitting at the table, reading Middle High German. The area all around us was still covered with doppelgangster detritus. There were several large piles of mingled feathers and dirt, scatterings of pebbles and bird bones, dust all over the place . . .

"We should clean this place," I said.

"Yes," Max said.

We looked at the mess for a moment longer.

Then he went back to reading, and I sat down at the table with him.

"Max," I said, "what will we do with her?"

"It, my dear." He looked up from his book. "It."

"We can't keep it tied up down there forever. In fact, if doppelgangsters need to sleep or, uh, use the facilities, we can't even keep it like this all night. And you know we can't, um . . ."

"Dispatch it? We'll have to, at some point, Esther."

"Lucky won't stand for it," I said with certainty.

"That mystical ent.i.ty's existence endangers a human woman's life." Max closed his book and set it aside. "It must be destroyed."

"Oh, Max, I feel weird about this. I just had girl talk with her-it. I don't see how we can . . . you know."

"Girl talk?"

"We talked about men."

"Ah."

"It's disturbing how much that thing seems like the real Elena. It remembers her whole life."

Max nodded. "Right up until the moment of its creation. But it has no knowledge of what happened this afternoon, Esther. Of your encounter with the real real Widow Giacalona." Widow Giacalona."

I nodded. After a moment, I said, "I still think Buonarotti's involved in this. Everything we said earlier today about him as a likely accomplice still holds true."

"Yes," Max said thoughtfully. "That's a good point."

"And last night, he got fresh with the widow. Very Very fresh, from the sound of it. She's furious about it. I doubt a woman who's chosen to marry three times would be shocked by roving hands, so I think Buonarotti must've gotten pretty rough." fresh, from the sound of it. She's furious about it. I doubt a woman who's chosen to marry three times would be shocked by roving hands, so I think Buonarotti must've gotten pretty rough."

"You think he tried to force himself on her?"

"Yes. And she pushed him down the stairs."

"Having met him, I suspect he would be enraged rather than contrite," Max mused. "And today the widow's doppelgangster appeared."

"Dressed as Elena might have been dressed last night, if she was on a dinner date that went bad."

"My goodness! Do you realize, Esther, that we have learned something useful, after all, from interviewing the doppelgangster? Or, rather, you you have. This 'girl talk' is most informative!" have. This 'girl talk' is most informative!"

"But Buonarotti . . . Is he the doppelgangster-making type? Is he the subtle, inventive, devious sorcerer you've talked about?" I shook my head. "I just don't see that."

"No. Whereas he is is well-suited to be the accomplice whose role is to finish the work, so to speak. And evidently he asked his partner in crime to duplicate the widow," Max said. "I suppose her violent death might contribute to the eruption of tribal warfare, considering that Lucky is so fond of her-" well-suited to be the accomplice whose role is to finish the work, so to speak. And evidently he asked his partner in crime to duplicate the widow," Max said. "I suppose her violent death might contribute to the eruption of tribal warfare, considering that Lucky is so fond of her-"

"Apparently Don Victor is also fond of her." I shrugged. "And, who knows, perhaps Don Carmine Corvino is fond of her, too. She married two Corvinos, after all."

"So the mysterious partner might see a benefit in cooperating with Don Michael Buonarotti's demand, which would explain why he complied. The widow's murder might push the two families even further toward the war that our adversary is trying to bring about. Even though, for Don Michael, the duplication was inspired by personal motives." Max thought it over and nodded. "A rejected and humiliated suitor, a violent man with a short temper and the capacity for brutal, opportunistic murder . . . Yes, if Don Michael is in league with the sorcerer, then the temptation would be irresistible to ask his colleague to duplicate the widow."

"Maybe you were right, Max." My heart started pounding. "Maybe the solution is is just around the corner. I mean, we're saying . . ." just around the corner. I mean, we're saying . . ."

"We're saying," Max said, "that we think Don Michael knows who's creating the doppelgangsters."

"So how do we make a Mafia killer tell us what we want to know?"

My phone rang, startling me. I pulled it out of my purse and looked at the LCD panel. "It's Thack," I said. It seemed as if I had been trying to talk to him since forever. "Probably calling to tell me the role on The Dirty Thirty The Dirty Thirty that I wanted to audition for has already been filled by now." I flipped open the phone. "h.e.l.lo?" that I wanted to audition for has already been filled by now." I flipped open the phone. "h.e.l.lo?"

"I meant to call you earlier, Esther, but it's been another crazy day!" There was a lot of noise in the background.

"Uh-huh." I glanced at my watch and noticed it was past nine o'clock already.

"A vodka tonic, please!"

"What?"

"I'm talking to the bartender," Thack said. "It's intermission at Long Day's Journey Into Night Long Day's Journey Into Night on Long Island. My G.o.d, the things I do for my clients." on Long Island. My G.o.d, the things I do for my clients."

That explained the background noise. I knew that play. Everyone Everyone would be racing for the bar. And if Thack was there to watch a client's performance, he couldn't even leave early. He'd have to sit through the whole thing. would be racing for the bar. And if Thack was there to watch a client's performance, he couldn't even leave early. He'd have to sit through the whole thing.

"I'm afraid I've got bad news," Thack said.

"I thought so," I said with resignation.

"But the good good news," he said gleefully, "outweighs the bad!" news," he said gleefully, "outweighs the bad!"

"There's good news?" It was about time.

"Absolutely! But bad news first. You didn't get the part of the grad student on Dirty Thirty Dirty Thirty."