“I see what you mean, Guido. If either Massha or Tananda are going to be known as ‘molls,’ I’d rather it was their choice, not mine. Until then, I guess we’re stuck with . . . what’s her name? Bunny? Does she wiggle her nose or something?”
Guido glanced across the room at the other two, then lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Just between you and me, Boss, I think you would be well advised to accept this particular moll that Don Bruce has personally selected to send. Know what I mean?”
“No, I don’t.” I grimaced. “Excuse me, Guido, but the mind’s working a little slow just now. If you’re trying to tell me something, you’re going to have to spell it out.”
“Well, I did a little checkin’ around, and it seems that Bunny here is Don Bruce’s niece, and …”
“HIS N…”
“Ssshh. Keep it down. Boss. I don’t think we’re supposed to know that.”
With a supreme effort, I suppressed my hysteria and lowered my voice again. “What are you trying to do to me? I’m trying to keep this operation under wraps and you bring me Don Bruce’s niece?”
“Don’t worry.”
“DON’T W…”
“Sshh! Like I said. I’ve been checking around. It seems the two of them don’t get along at all. Wouldn’t give each other the time of day. The way I hear it, he doesn’t want her to be a moll, and she won’t go along with any other kind of work. They fight over it like cats and dogs. Anyway, if you can trust any moll to not feed Don Bruce the straight scoop, it’s her. That’s why I was sayin’ that you should keep this one.”
My headache had now spread to my stomach.