deserved a full share. 'For what?' Sisto said. 'Shaking her ass. That's what she does, what she is good at.''
'Sounds right to me,' McCabe said.
'Be careful, you want my help or not?' The wind blew her hair and she straightened it and tucked it behind her ears. 'Mazara didn't tell his crew that I was the one who had planned and organized everything, so, of course, they thought he did it. I was thinking, based on all I had done, I deserved at least half of the money, let them divide the rest.'
McCabe said, 'Why'd you do it?'
'I have bills to pay like everyone.' She could see he didn't believe her.
'Your father is head of the Roman Mafia and you need money?'
'He found out I was seeing Mazara and cut me off.'
'They give you your share? You can hand it over, save a step,' McCabe said.
'I told you. I have received nothing,' Angela said. 'Not a single euro.' She picked up her glass and drank some wine. 'Did you talk to Joey, tell him the details? What you want him to do?'
'Not yet,' McCabe said.
Angela said, 'When do you think the exchange is going to take place?'
'Tomorrow,' McCabe said.
'And you have not talked to him?'
'No.'
'How do you know he will be ready?'
'He better be.'
'McCabe, do you think this is just going to happen? They are just going to arrive in Viterbo and hand you the money? Say, here you are. Good luck.'
McCabe grinned now and said, 'What're you getting so excited about? It's all going to work out.'
'You know your first idea might be okay,' Angela said.
'You mean taking Joey into the council chamber?'
Angela said, 'Palazzo dei Priori.'
'It's a municipal building,' McCabe said.
'Exactly.'
'How're you going to get in?'
'I know a way,' Angela said. 'You want me to tell you?'
Chapter Twenty-six
Ray trained the binoculars on a girl in a peasant dress, getting out of a VW microbus in a 7-Eleven parking lot. Her brown hair parted down the middle and held in place by a headband, barefoot, the tops of her milky white breasts visible as she leaned forward, stepping out of the front passenger seat, closing the door and going in the store. It was like being in a time warp. Seeing her reminded him of the time he was on a detail to protect Tipper Gore at a Grateful Dead concert. A1 was a US senator at the time, Bill Clinton's vice-presidential candidate on the Democratic ticket. The girl looked like the Deadheads he'd seen that afternoon and night in their pastel tie-dyes, braids, beads and flowers, hippies throwing Frisbees and playing hacky-sack in the RFK Stadium parking lot.
Ray had just completed his first year as an agent. He was on temporary assignment in the Washington office. Protective Services was short-handed, so that's how he happened to be sitting on a riser, stage left next to Tipper Gore on June 14th' 1991.
He remembered the caravan of spotless black Chevy Suburbans following two Virginia State Troopers, driving into the parking lot past the VW bugs and microbuses, Deadheads looking like some bizarre tribe, staring at Ray and his fellow agents like they were aliens.
He'd called Sharon after the concert and told her about it.
'There were guys wearing these weird headdresses just standing in front of the stage, smiling, and guys dressed as skeletons and some as Uncle Sam.'
'They were high,' Sharon said.
Ray said, 'They were more than that. I saw a guy drink water out of a bong.'
'God's herb,' Sharon said.
'God's herb, huh?'
Sharon said, 'You and Tipper expand your consciousness? Drop any blue Osley?'
Ray said, 'What's that?'
'Acid.'
'Sure,' Ray said, 'we do it all the time in the Service.'
'Did you feel a connection with the band?'
Ray said, 'I wouldn't go that far.'
'Did you feel like part of the family?' Sharon said.
'No, I felt like I was protecting the wife of a vice-presidential candidate.'
'Why'd Tipper want to see the Dead?'
'She said she likes their music.'
Sharon said, 'How'd she like it after a twenty-minute Jerry solo?'
'Not too much I guess,' Ray said. 'We didn't stay very long.'
'They do 'Big River'?'
'I don't know,' Ray said.
Sharon said, 'How about 'Dark Star'?'
'You're enjoying this,' Ray said, 'aren't you?'
They'd gotten along in those days, liked each other and had a good time. Sharon sold space in Rolling Stone and got a big kick out of Ray, the straightest guy she knew, going to a
Grateful Dead concert with Tipper Gore. He saw Teegarden glance over at him. 'What're you looking at?'
'Nothing,' Ray said. He lowered the binoculars and glanced at Teeg. They were in his Jeep parked behind Desmond Funeral Home on Crooks Road in Troy. The 7-Eleven was next door. They were watching people leave after Joe P.'s visitation.
'Think it's a coincidence?' Teegarden said. 'I give you the man's address, the next day he's dead.'
'Yeah,' Ray said, 'I can see why you might be a little suspicious, but the Free Press said he died of natural causes.' 'Massive heart attack,' Teeg said. 'I'd say it was a stroke of luck,' Ray said. 'Is that supposed to be funny?'
Ray grinned. 'You think I'd be that callous and insensitive?' Teegarden shook his head.
'I'm looking for Joey,' Ray said. 'This seems like the perfect opportunity to find him.'
Teegarden aimed his binoculars at the rear entrance of the funeral home. 'You see them? They're all here,' he said. 'There's Vito Uno himself.'
'Guy in the black suit, I'll bet,' Ray said deadpan, looking at a dozen guys in black suits.
Teegarden looked over at him. 'You're in a good mood, I see.'
Ray flashed a grin.
'Vito's the tall silver-haired guy. Walking with his brother Santo 'Big Sam' Corrado, his consigliere.'
'Who's that in the tan outfit?' Ray said, pointing to Anthony from the used car lot.
'Antonio 'Tony the Barber' Barbara.'
Ray said, 'He cut hair?'
Teegarden looked at him with a hint of a smile. 'He's an enforcer works for Joey, or did. His weapon of choice is a straight razor.'
'That's Mrs P., I'll bet.' Ray trained his binoculars on a silver- haired woman with a black scarf over her head. He remembered her from a framed photo on the desk in Joe P.'s office.
'Angela Palermo,' Teeg said. 'How'd you know it was her?'
'She looks like a grieving widow.'
