“Unofficially, I’m doing it for Aahz.”
“Aahz?”
“That’s right. Remember him? My old partner? Well, when we were taking care of that little favor for Quigley, he kept needling me about The Fun House. There was a fairly constant stream of digs about ‘throwing money at a problem’ and bow ‘we never planned to run a casino’ . . . stuff like that. I don’t know why, but it’s clear to me that the casino is a burr under his saddle, and if it will make him happy, I’ve got no problems dumping it. It just doesn’t mean that much to me.”
Bunny arched an eyebrow.
“So you’re selling off the casino because you think it will make your old partner happy?”
“It’s the best reason I can think of,” I shrugged. “Bunny, he’s been a combination father, teacher, coach, and Dutch uncle to me since Garkin was killed. I’ve lost track of the number of times he’s saved my skin, usually by putting his own between me and whatever was incoming. With all I owe him, disposing of something that’s bothering him seems a pretty small payback, but one I’ll deliver without batting an eye.”
“You might try to give him an assignment or two,” she said, pursing her lips. “Maybe if he were a bit busier, he wouldn’t have the time to brood and fault-find over the stuff you’re doing without him.”
I waited a heartbeat too long before laughing.
“Aahz is above petty jealousy, really,” I said, wishing I was more sure of it myself. “Besides, I am trying to find an assignment for him. It’s just that Perverts . . . excuse me, Pervects . . . aren’t noted for their diplomacy in dealing with clients.”