“No shit!” said Sal. “What a rotten break.”
DeMeo’s reason for believing Sal’s story: just before the meeting, Sal had called Joe and said he wanted to bring Big Bad to the meeting, since the Ungers had a bodyguard.
“I just want—whatcha call—detente.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Joe had said.
“You need to clear it with the Ungers first?”
“Fuck the Ungers. Just get to the meeting.”
“I’m on my way,” Sal had said.
A few minutes passed, and Sal had called Joe to tell him he was sitting in his car a block away from the Beck Building but the area was roped off because the Beck was on fire.
“I just called Chris Unger,” Sal had said, “and he ain’t answering.”
Joe had tried with the same result.
It was a plausible chain of events. The way Joe figured it, Sal wouldn’t be making demands about bringing his bodyguard if he didn’t intend to show up at the meeting. But that didn’t mean he trusted Sal.
A few hours later, they had had another conversation.
DeMeo said, “According to witnesses, Chris Unger jumped—or was thrown—out of his window.”
“You think he jumped like them people in the World Trade Center?” Sal asked.
“My stooge in the CPD says their witness puts Unger on the sidewalk more than a minute before the bomb goes off .”
Their conversation had gone on like that awhile, according to Sal, but the bottom line was, Joe DeMeo was starting to panic. So he put together a small army and stationed them in and outside the walls of his estate. It would be a formidable challenge, but I was gearing up for it.
My phone rang.
“I’ve got the architect,” Quinn said. “I’m in his house right now.”
“Good. Bring him to the campground.”
Quinn paused.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“What about the wife?”
“I thought she was out for the afternoon.”
“Bad timing. She forgot something and came back to retrieve it.”
“Retrieve,” I said.
“Yup.”
“Bring her, too.”
Quinn paused.
“Jesus,” I said. “What else?”
“He doesn’t have the plans.”
“Why not?”
“It was part of the deal. Joe made him turn over all the blueprints.”
I sighed. “Bring him and the wife, anyway. We’ll tease them both with the ADS beam until he remembers what I want to know.”
“You got the Hummer yet?” Quinn asked.
“I’ll have it by the time you get there.”
CHAPTER 44
Darwin bellowed and blustered and raised nine kinds of hell when he heard what I was up to, but I believed he was secretly pleased I was planning to bring down Joe DeMeo. I decided to test the theory.
“I can kill him,” I said, “but I can’t take him alive without your help.”
“Why should I care if he’s dead or not?”
“If I take him alive, you can turn him over to the FBI for the hotel bombing, along with all the evidence we’ll find in his house.”
“There won’t be any evidence. Anyway, when the time comes, I’ll grab the other guy, the one who works the whores.”
“Grasso? He’s one of Joe’s guards. Lives in one of the cottages. Again, without your help, he’s not going to come out of this alive.”
“What about the whore?”
“Paige. Her name is Paige,” I said.
“Whatever.”
