Page 6 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

I shrug, trying not to look too invested in the outcome. ‘It’s true. Plus, in my experience, interesting subjects make interesting photographs.’

‘Hmmm,’ Frankie sniffs, but I can tell he’s on the hook. ‘You got your camera with you?’

‘Not right this second but it’s in my room.’

‘Bring it along and we’ll see.’ He turns his attention back to Lee. ‘We’re meeting in the back room at seven.’

‘We’ll see you there,’ Lee nods, and then the two of us watch in silence as Frankie leaves, calling out greetings to people as he goes.

‘That was Frankie Martelli!’ I exclaim when he’s out of earshot. ‘You just got Frankie Martelli to agree to a photo shoot.’

‘I know. I told you, he owns the hotel.’

‘He’s a mobster, Lee.’

She laughs. ‘Frankie? He’s a sweetheart.’

‘He used to be the head of the Martelli crime family until he “retired” a couple of decades ago and his son took over.’ I keep my voice low. ‘He’s a proper, old-school gangster. He practically ran Las Vegas in the late Sixties. He shook hands with Sinatra!’ I finish a little desperately.

‘He has no criminal convictions,’ Lee frowns. ‘Nothing that was flagged in background. I think you’re wrong. Well, except about the Sinatra thing, Frankie told me that himself. He has some great stories.’ She smiles at this, the rare, wide smile that makes twin dimples appear in her cheeks.

I laugh. ‘I’m not wrong. Although he’s cleaned up his image a lot. Gone legit.’

‘Oh, well then,’ Lee shrugs, spectacularly unworried by this information. ‘I suppose that makes sense. He’s a very astute businessman, you know.’

‘Yeah, I bet,’ I manage. ‘So, are you going to tell me how the hell you’ve become poker buddies with the guy?’

‘I met Frankie at a work event a couple of years ago and we hit it off. We stayed in touch and he hired me to take care of some business for him.’

‘You’re his accountant?’ I say in disbelief. ‘You,’ I point at her, ‘are Frankie Martelli’s accountant?’

‘I wish you’d stop saying his name like that,’ Lee huffs. ‘Whatever he did in the past, now he’s a respected member of the community.’

‘Sorry.’ I try to keep the laughter out of my voice and appear properly chastised. ‘So. You’re his accountant?’ I say again, and I keep my tone carefully neutral this time.

‘I’m one of his accountants,’ Lee says vaguely.

‘You’ve been – what – helping him with his taxes?’ I prod, thinking about the comment Frankie made about her saving him money.

Lee looks wary now, and picks an invisible fleck from her trousers. ‘I’m not that type of accountant.’

That gives me pause. I’ve never thought much about Lee’s job, which I now realise makes me a pretty shitty friend. ‘What type of accountant are you?’

‘I’m a freelance forensic accountant.’ Seeing my blank look at this, she adds, ‘I investigate potential financial crimes.’

‘So you’re investigating Frankie?’

‘No!’ She rolls her eyes. ‘When he ran into a problem, he asked me to go over his accounts and look out for any… anomalies.’

‘Holy shit,’ I breathe, leaning forward. ‘Don’t tell me someone was stupid enough to try and steal from The Shark?’

Lee purses her lips. ‘Client confidentiality prevents me from answering that question.’

‘So that’s a yes, then. I can’t believe anyone thought they’d get away with it.’

‘Hypothetically,’ Lee says, ‘as Frankie heads an enormous business operation, it would be possible for a person to help themselves to relatively small amounts over long periods of time that would fail to raise any red flags. If they were careful and very, very clever.’

‘Not clever enough apparently.’ I eye her with appreciation. ‘So you’ve uncovered the thief and handed them over to Frankie. I don’t like their chances.’