That was a hell of an opening line and I tried to figure out what to say, but I didn’t have to answer because he kept on talking. “Best piece of ass I ever had, and I’ve had a lot of them,” he continued on. “She never stopped, just kept going and going like that fucking rabbit on TV, all you could do was hang on. Is that the way she was with you?” He smiled at me like we were talking it over in a bar and I almost nodded in agreement, remembering that first night with Mary. It must have shown on my face despite the blood and bruises from the beating because again he didn’t wait for my answer and continued on, “Yeah, she was great, wasn’t she? Like I said, the best I ever had, and I’ll bet she was the best you’ve ever had too, am I right?”

I just sat there, waiting for him to continue.

“I’ll never be able to do it again,” he said. “Look at me, nothing works below my belt, I can’t even crap for myself. That god damn pornographer, Larry Flynt, he got what he deserved, but why me? I go to Mass every Sunday rain or shine, I’m heavy in the collection box, I give lots of dough to the poor, I raised money to build the hospital here in Vegas, you name it and I’ve done it, and look what God gave me in return.”

Maybe she could make the most of it. She thought of Herbert Adams. He wanted to “court her”, his exact words, no one talked like that anymore. He was loaded, at least by Virginia City standards, and he was a bachelor in his seventies. When he died it would all be hers, a small time Anna Nicole Smith, only without a will contest. She would be the queen of Virginia City, the owner of most of its property, and its citizens would be her subjects. She wanted to take care of herself. Who could blame her for that?