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until he got to the Fig's driveway. Two men at the gate sprayed a light on his face, then let him pass. Maybe three hundred yards through high pines, he came to the big farmhouse with a large red converted barn in back. Behind the barn was an open field that seemed to go on forever. Aside from the house and barn, no other lights were visible. |
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In the crowded lot he spotted the white Eldorado belonging to the man he was looking for, Muzzy Mozzicato. The bumper sticker read: I Brake for Paws. Muzzy humor. |
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The barn was lit up. There might be sixty guys inside, but you'd never know it. The place had been meticulously sound-proofed for the events. Once a month and on special occasions. Tonight was a special night. |
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This was not your typical pit-bull convention. No grubby little back room of an abandoned silo in some rundown Ohio farm town full of guys in grease jeans and shit-kicker boots and a pocket full of tens. Two doormen in Armani suits greeted him by name and let him enter a brightly lit arena flanked by a full wet bar and tables spread with food. It was the Caesar's Palace for dogfights. On a good night you could walk away with fifty grand. |
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The place buzzed. The air was laced with cigar smoke and beer and food smells, but nothing suggested animal husbandry. Except for event dogs, the barn had never known four legs. Its sole function was these conventions. |
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Jerry Mars nodded at familiar faces as he made his way past the tables. As usual, they were laid out with sliced meats and cheeses, a huge bowl of cooked shrimp on ice, meatballs floating in oily sauce, sausages, lasagna and egg rolls. The only thing on the tables that wouldn't clog your arteries was the melon balls. He speared a few with a toothpick. |
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At the bar stood several men in noisy sport coats. Jerry was dressed in black jeans, a thin black leather jacket and black silk T-shirt. Jerry's look. |
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The bartender handed him his mineral water with a twist of lime. He took a sip and scanned the crowd. Most of the guys he knew from sightgoombas who had come from all over the Northeast, who liked the dogs and who laid down serious dough. |
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On the opposite side of the room were rows of chairs and two |
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