Page 185 of Power
“Yeah, sure, c’mon back.” Igor led them into his office, which had a thick layer of dirt on any surface that wasn’t cluttered with papers, old paper cups, and bottles of chemicals. He sat behind his desk, gestured to the two chairs.
“Is he your bodyguard?” Igor asked of Stuart.
As Luciano sat, he said, “Yes, he’s a member of my security detail.”
“What can I do for you, Mr…”
“Malvagio Peccatore. I need information.” The tone in Luciano’s voice had changed from a charming lilt to a harsh staccato.
Stuart shut Igor’s office door.
Igor narrowed his gaze at Luciano. “I sell chemical supplies. That’s the business I’m in.”
“You’re working with The Bomb Maker,” Luciano said. “Who is he?”
Igor shifted in his chair.
Stuart pulled his Glock. “Don’t open that drawer,” Stuart growled.
“Ah, fuck,” Igor bleated. “I don’t need no trouble.” He shifted his attention to Luciano. “Look Mr. Pecker, he never told me hisname, but I’m sure if he did, it wouldn’t be real. You know what I mean?”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Luciano asked.
Igor glanced up at Stuart, his weapon still drawn. “A few weeks ago. Maybe a month. He paid in cash?—”
“How much?”
“A quarter of a mil. Said he’d be back for more and I should expect the same large order.”
“Does he come alone?”
“Yup.”
“What does he look like?”
Igor leaned back and his chair squawked on its old hinges. “Now, Mr. Pecker, that’s gonna cost you. I don’t give that kinda information away for nothing. I run a business.”
“I can call Carlo Garibaldi or I can call the FBI. Either way, you’ll have unfriendly visitors on your doorstep in hours. One would slit your throat, the other would arrest you.”
“Ah, crap,” Igor mumbled.
Luciano walked around the desk, yanked Igor out of his chair, and shoved him against the back wall. “What does he look like?” he growled.
“Dark hair to about here—” Igor touched his shoulder. “Sharp dresser. Real nice clothes. He was tan, but it didn’t look legit. Maybe he wore makeup ‘cause his face was kinda orange.”
Luciano released his hold, but he didn’t step away. “Did you see his car?”
“He had a truck, you know, for supplies.”
“Who loaded everything?”
“He did, but I helped him, a little.”
“Any tats? Piercings?” Luciano raked his hand through his hair.
“None that I saw, but he was—wait, yeah, he had this super flashy pinky ring. Lotsa diamonds and the band was a pink color.He kept playing with it, you know, spinning it around, and it caught my eye. How ‘bout you give me your number and I’ll let you know when he swings by?”
“Did he call you?”
