“Whenever,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”
He put the receiver back on its base and walked across the room to where Tigo was complaining that the tapes were too tight.
“You don’t want the gadget rattling around, do you?” Ollie asked.
“I don’t want the gadget, period,” Tigo said.
“It’ll save you a lot of time upstate,” Meyer said.
“Ifhe says anything.”
“That’s your job,” Carella said. “To get him talking.”
“He’s not so fuckin dumb, you know. I start talkin about that night, he’s gonna wonder why.”
“Make it sound casual,” Meyer suggested.
“Sure. Hey, Wiggy, remember the night you shot that dude in the back of his head and dropped him in a garbage can? Boy, that was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Do it over a few drinks,” Carella suggested.
“Sure. Have another beer, Wiggy. Remember the night you shot that dude in the back of …”
“Just play it cool,” Meyer said. “Don’t even think about the wire. Make believe you’re two guys shootin the breeze.”
“Sure.”
“The mike’s right here,” Ollie said. “It looks like a button on your shirt.”
“Suppose hespots the fuckin thing?”
“He won’t.”
“Butifhe does.”
“Don’t worry, he won’t be thinking about a wire.”
“What if hestarts thinking about a wire? This man can become very violent. He is not called Wiggy the Lid for no reason.”
“Just tell him you work for a record company,” Meyer said.
“Tell him you’re a talent scout for Motown,” Ollie said. “Tuck your shirt in your pants.”
Tigo tucked in his shirt.
He turned to face the cops.
“How do I look?” he asked.
He looked extremely worried.
“You look great,” Meyer said.
Kling came over from across the room.
“You’re wearing a wire, right?” he said.
“Yeah,” Tigo said. “Why?”
“I never would’ve guessed,” Kling said.
HALLOWAY TOLD THEM he would have to call their treasurer. Wiggy asked what his name was.
“Her,” Halloway said. “Her name is Susan.”
Susan was a code word. The moment whoever answered the phone heard the name “Susan,” he or she would know there was trouble.
“Make sure you talk to her and her alone,” Wiggy said. “Give me the number. I’ll dial it.”
The clock on the wall read ten minutes past ten.
Halloway wrote the number on a slip of paper. Wiggy looked at it as he dialed. The instant he heard it ringing on the other end, he handed the receiver to Halloway and picked up an extension phone. The phone rang once, twice …
“Hello?”
A woman’s voice.
“Susan?” Halloway said.
“Yes?”
“This is Dick Halloway. Happy New Year.”
“Thank you, Dick,” she said. “Same to you.”
His use of the familiar diminutive told her he was not alone. If Karen Andersen had announced herself as Karey, or David Good as Davey, it would have meant the same thing. By repeating the diminutive, the woman on the other end of the line was telling Halloway she understood he had company.
“Did you try to reach me yesterday?” she asked.
