“A quarter of a million?” I repeated, a little hoarser this time.
“See?” Aahz grinned. “You’re clutching.”
“But, Aahz, do we have a quarter of a million to spare?”
My partner’s grin faded and he started avoiding my eyes.
“I can answer that one, Skeeve,” Don Bruce said.
“No one has a quarter of a million to spare. Even if you’ve got it, you don’t have it to spare, know what I mean?”
“It’s not going to take all our money,” Aahz said slowly. “The others have chipped in out of their savings, too: Tananda, Chumley, Massha, even Guido and Nunzio. We’ve all got a piece of the action.”
“Us too,” the mobster declared. “Put the Mob down for half.”
I’m not sure who was more surprised, Aahz or me.
But Aahz recovered first.
“That’s nice of you, Don Bruce, but you don’t understand what’s really happening here. Skeeve here is a rank beginner at the game. He had one lucky night, and by the time the rumor mill got through with it, he had drawn a challenge from the Kid. He can’t refuse without looking foolish, and with the Ax on the loose we can’t afford any bad press we can avoid. That’s why we’re pooling our money, so Skeeve can go in there and lose gracefully. The actual outcome is preordained. The Kid’s going to eat him alive.”
“… And maybe you weren’t listening earlier,” the mobster shot back. “If Skeeve looks bad, we look bad.
The Mob backs its people, especially when it comes to public image. Win or lose, we’re in for half, okay?”
“If you say so,” Aahz shrugged.
“… And try to save me a couple seats. I’m gonna want to see my boy in action-firsthand.”