Chapter 10

In all the years he’d performed in Chicago, he’d never once received a black hand. Now he had two, burning a hole in his pocket. He’d never been important enough to extort money from, but apparently, his lifestyle had changed enough in the past two weeks to put him in a different league now.

The first had come after his fourth show. He, Jimmy, and Vince had been waiting for Kate to freshen up. Jimmy had insisted on taking them out every night, “showing them the sights,” he’d claimed, though David knew it was to spend time with Kate. David had been standing off to the side, trying to watch some of the gambling instead of drooling over how good Vince looked in his suit—did the man own anything that didn’t make him look like sex on a stick?—when a bellboy had appeared out of nowhere with a letter for him.

“From a fan,” the pimply-faced kid had said.