Trunk Music

her. Tony’s dead.”
    “That’s what I said. How well did you know him?”
    “See, that’s good. You assume I knew him and put that assumption in your question. That’s good.”
    “So then answer it.”
    “He was a regular in here. He was always trying to pick off girls. Told ’em he’d put ’em in the movies. Same old stuff. But, hell, they keep falling for it. Last two years he cost me three of my best girls. They’re in L.A. now. He left ’em high and dry once he got them there and did what he wanted with ’em. They never learn.”
    “Why’d you let him keep coming in if he was picking off your girls?”
    “He spent a lot of bread in here. Besides, there’s no shortage of quiff here in Vegas. No shortage at all.”
    Bosch headed in another direction.
    “What about Friday? Was he here?”
    “No, I don’t-yes, yes he was. He stopped by for a short while. I saw him out there.”
    With his hand he indicated a panel of video monitors showing every angle of the club and front entrance. It was equally as impressive as the setup Hank Meyer had shown Bosch at the Mirage.
    “You remember seeing him, Gussie?” the blond asked the tuxedo.
    “Yeah, he was here.”
    “There you go. He was here.”
    “No problems? He just came and went?”
    “Right, no problems.”
    “Then why’d you fire Layla?”
    The blond pinched his lips tight for a moment.
    “Now I get it,” he said. “You’re one of those guys what likes to weave a web with words, get somebody caught in it.”
    “Maybe.”
    “Well, nobody’s caught anywhere. Layla was Tony’s latest fuck, that’s true, but she’s gone now. She won’t be back.”
    “Yeah, and what happened to her?”
    “Like you heard, I fired her. Saturday night.”
    “For what?”
    “For any number of infractions of the rules. But it doesn’t really matter because it’s none of your business, now is it?”
    “What did you say your name is?”
    “I didn’t.”
    “Then how ’bout if I just call you asshole, how would that be?”
    “People ’round here call me Lucky. Can we get on with this, please?”
    “Sure, we can get on with it. Just tell me what happened to Layla.”
    “Sure, sure. But I thought you were here to talk about Tony, least that’s what Randy said.”
    “Rhonda.”
    “Rhonda, right.”
    Bosch was losing his patience but managed to just stare at him and wait him out.
    “Layla, right. Well, Saturday night she got into a beef with one of the other girls. It got a little nasty and I had to make a choice. Modesty is one of my best girls, best producers. She gave me an ultimatum: either Layla goes or she goes. I had to let Layla go. Modesty, man, she sells ten, twelve splits of champagne a night to those suckers out there. I had to back her over Layla. I mean, Layla’s good and she’s a looker but she ain’t no Modesty. Modesty’s our top girl.”
    Bosch just nodded. So far his story jibed with the phone message Layla had left for Aliso. By drawing it out of the blond man, Bosch was getting a sense of how much he could be believed.
    “What was the trouble between Layla and the other girl about?” he asked.
    “I don’t know and don’t really care. Just your typical catfight. They didn’t like each other since day one. See, Bosch, every club has its top girl. And here, it’s Modesty. Layla was trying to move in on that and Modesty didn’t want to be moved in on. But I have to say, Layla was trouble since she came here. None of the girls liked her act. She stole songs from the other girls, wouldn’t stop with the pussy dust even when I told her, we just had a lot of trouble with her. I’m glad she’s gone. I gotta business to run here. I can’t be babysitting a bunch of spoiled cunts.”
    “Pussy dust?”
    “Yeah, you know, she put that sparkly stuff on her snatch, made it sparkle in the dark and twinkle in the lights. Only problem is those sparkles come off and get on the suckers. She does a lap dance on you and you end up with a crotch that glitters. Then you go home and the wife figures it out and raises holy hell. I lose customers. I can’t have that shit, Bosch. If it hadn’t been Modesty, it would have been something else. I got rid of Layla when I got the chance.”
    Bosch thought about the story for a few moments.
    “Okay,” he said. “Just give me her address and I’ll be on my way.”
    “I would but I can’t.”
    “Don’t start that shit now. I thought we were having a conversation. Let me see your