Chapter 16

A week later,I stood before the still smoldering wreck that was once the Maharaja Majestic. I didn't even realize there was somebody behind me until he spoke.

"It was my dream," the voice said.

I turned to see Raja Kahn standing behind me. He looked lost. Mournful.

I wasn't sure what to say except. "A wise woman once asked me—you know what they say about dreams?"

"What's that?"

"If ever you wake up, just close your eyes and an even better dream will come along."

Raja Kahn smiled. "I like you, Mr. Baxter. Perhaps we'll meet again someday."

And with that, he turned and walked away.

I watched him go, then decided it was time for me to leave too. I walked with a limp on account of the fact that the soles of my feet were still blistered from the fire. It was enough reason to take a shortcut home through the nearest alleyway.

I got halfway along the cobblestones before a large figure in a trench coat approached me.

I stopped as the shadow of the man stood over me, lingering in the dark for a moment until he stepped into the light. Instantly I recognized him by his mugshot in the papers. It was Wilde City's most notorious gangster, Bugsy Brown, sworn enemy and ex-husband of Mamma Marlow.

I gulped, realizing he was here to get me square for destroying one of his most valuable insurance payouts, the Maharaja Majestic.

Did he have a gun tucked in his belt?

Did he have a bat behind his back?

As he stood facing me, he reached into his inside coat pocket.

I took a step back, ready to run—

—but instead of a weapon, he pulled out a pipe, much like my own, and lit it.

I could smell the sweet scent of pot drift from it.

Bugsy blew out a puff of smoke so long, a guy could write his name in it.

"Are you here to kill me?" I asked, intoxicated by the smell of pot yet somewhat terrified given the fact that my burnt feet made it really hard to run right now.

Bugsy simply grinned. "No, I ain't gonna kill ya, kid. I wanna talk to you."

"About what?" I asked.

Bugsy gave a smirk from under his hat. "Don't you think it's time you and me finally had ourselves a little father-to-son chat?"

My jaw didn't just drop.

It clattered on the cobblestones.

"That's right, Buck," Bugsy Brown laughed, taking another puff of his pipe. "I'm your dear old dad."

Holy shit!

Picture that!