The man handed him Stone’s phone.

“Just press send twice,” Stone said.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” The man pressed the button twice and waited. “Nobody’s answering,” he said.

“He was there earlier, just before you, ah, invited us in here.”

“Hello?” the man said, then he started speaking Italian.

Stone caught the words “Don Eduardo.”

He stopped speaking, then started again, apparently speaking to Eduardo, then he stopped. “What’s your name?” he said to Stone.

“You were going to kill me, and you don’t even know who I am?”

“I know who the lady is; that’s enough.”

“My name is Stone Barrington.”

The man repeated this into the telephone. “Si. Si. Si. Grazie, Don Eduardo.” He closed the phone and handed it to Stone. “Don Eduardo knows you,” he said.

Stone breathed an audible sigh of relief.

“He says to kill you anyway.”

Stone stopped breathing.

“Just kidding,” the man said, then burst out laughing. All the men laughed with him.

“I may die anyway,” Holly said to Stone.

“I know how you feel.”

When the man had gotten control of himself he held out a hand to Stone. “My name is Vito.”

Stone shook the hand.

“Don Eduardo says to take you back to your car.”

“Good.”

“But I gotta kill the lady.”

“Now hang on a minute,” Stone said.

“Yeah,” Holly echoed, “hang on!”

Vito burst out laughing again, and the others followed suit. “Come on,” he said finally, waving them toward the elevator. “I’m just kidding again.” His shoulders were shaking, and tears were rolling down his cheeks.

“So, we dug this hole for nothing?” one of the men with a shovel said to Vito.

“Don’t worry about it, it’ll get used,” Vito replied.

He rode up in the elevator with Stone and Holly and handed them their guns. “You can find your car from here?” Vito asked.

“Yes, we can,” Stone replied. “One more thing. We want Trini Rodriguez.”

Vito rolled his eyes. “Everybody wants Trini,” he said.

“Don Eduardo would like us to find him.”

Vito looked at him doubtfully.

“No kidding.”

“Trini is with the fuckin’ towelheads somewhere,” he said.

“Towelheads?”

“Yeah, the Ayrabs.”

“And where are the Ayrabs?”

“Around somewhere.”

“I thought all the Ayrabs got arrested when Trini pulled off his little deal with the FBI.”

“The FBI, what do they know?” Vito said, laughing.

“Will you be speaking to Trini?” Stone asked.

“Yeah, I guess. He’ll want to know how you died.” Vito began laughing again.

“Do me a favor, Vito. Tell him something he’ll like to hear.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll make him happy.”

Stone handed him a card. “Then find out where he is and call me.”

Vito took the card. “You gonna cap Trini?”

“No, the lady is going to arrest him and take him back to Florida to be tried for killing a dozen people at a funeral.”

“Trini did that?” Vito looked amazed.

“He did.”

Vito said something to himself in Italian. “It’ll be a pleasure to rat him out,” he said. “Buona sera.

Stone and Holly walked down the dark street toward where they had left the car.

“As long as we’re down here, you want to get some dinner?” Stone asked.

“Thanks,” Holly said, “I already ate. I just want to get into bed, assume the fetal position, and suck my thumb for a couple of days.”

46

WHEN THEY GOT home, Holly did exactly what she had said she was going to do, except she didn’t suck her thumb.

Stone was tired, but oddly alert. He called Dino.

“Bacchetti.”

“It’s Stone, but it almost wasn’t.”

“Huh?”

“Some of Trini’s buddies from the Italian side of the equation stuck a shotgun in my ear in Little Italy and walked Holly and me to a nearby cellar, where they proceeded to dig a grave for the two of us.”

“Are you speaking to me from the grave? Because if you are, I want to record this conversation.”

“Fortunately, no. I was able to persuade the leader of this merry band of men, a guy named Vito, to call Eduardo before he unloaded his shotgun in our direction.”

“And Eduardo called them off?”

“Yes. Fortunately, he was at home.”

“You want me to arrest somebody?”

“No, after all, they only scared us half to death, and anyway, Vito might be able to help us locate Trini.”

“I thought you were ready to give up on Trini.”

“Oddly enough, my near-death experience has renewed my interest in finding the son of a bitch. In fact, I think I want to be a witness at his execution, if I don’t actually do it myself.”

“Funny, when the two guys on the motorcycle had a go at you, all you felt was bad about killing them.”

“Looking down the barrels of two shotguns concentrates the mind wonderfully.”

“I expect it does.”

“What’s the latest on Trini? Why did he shoot the two FBI guys?”

“Well, from what I hear on the grapevine, the two agents tried to get him out of bed too early in the morning, and it irritated him, so he shot them both.”

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. He just went nuts, according to the agent who’s still alive.”

“Well, since he was standing at the foot of my bed in the middle of the night, threatening to kill me, I guess he missed some sleep. Some people are just grumpy if they don’t get their eight hours.”

“So, what’s your next move?”

“Vito says he’ll be talking to Trini, who will want the details on how we begged for our lives.”

“Did you beg for your lives?”

“No. I concentrated on getting Vito to call Eduardo before he spread us around the cellar. But Vito is going to give Trini details that will please him and then call me and tell me where Trini is, if he can find out. He says Trini is with his Arab friends-or towelheads, as he prefers to call them.”

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