Naked Greed

He took a moment to be sure they were both dead, then got Al’s wallet from his pocket, emptied it of a thick stack of bills, and dropped it on the walkway. He walked to the backyard, hopped the fence, and got out his cell phone.

“Capitol Cab.”

“Can you send a cab to the corner of Hollaway and Oak, please?”

“Destination?”

“Fairlawn Hotel.” That was where he had been staying, and there were always cabs there. Five minutes later, the cab showed up and drove him to the hotel. He got out of the cab and into another, asking to be taken to his hotel at the airport. The following morning he put the .38 into a brown bag, tossed it into the back of a garbage truck, took the first flight to Las Vegas, and had a good breakfast in first class.

—

On Sunday afternoon, Gene Ryan took a cab to Newark Airport and made his plane to Fort Lauderdale. At the airport he rented a car and drove to the Sea Castle Motel on the beach. He checked in, got into his bathing suit, and walked down to the beach, where a beachboy made a chaise ready for him.

Two hours later he was joined by Vi

“Not yet,” Ryan replied. “He must have taken a later flight.”

—

Late in the afternoon Ryan showered and shaved and got into a sports jacket. He met Vi

“Did you hear from Al?” he asked.

Vi

Then Ryan saw Charlie walk into the bar and head for them. They shook hands. “How you doin’, Charlie?”

“I’m good, Gene.”

“This is Vi

“Where’s Al?”

“He hasn’t shown. We all took different flights down. Want a drink while we wait?”

An hour later, Charlie called Al’s throwaway cell number.

“Yeah?”

“Al?”

“Yeah.”

“Where the hell are you?”

“Where are you? Let me call you back.”

Charlie hung up. “That wasn’t Al that answered.”

“Who was it?”

“He didn’t know me. Maybe a cop. Let’s get out of here.”

Charlie drove them to a restaurant down the beach, where a table was waiting for them. They ordered drinks and some food. “When did you two guys last see Al?” Charlie asked.

“Friday afternoon,” Ryan replied.

“Where?”

“At my mom’s house,” Vi

“But he never showed, and there’s a strange guy answering his phone. Either of you know somebody who knows Al?”

“Sure,” Vi

“Call up there and get somebody to go over to Al’s house.”

“Okay.” Vi

“What’s the matter?” Gene asked.

“Al’s dead—his girl, too. Somebody offed them both on Friday night. He told me he was taking her to a show in the city. Apparently, somebody was waiting for him when they came home. A neighbor found them outside their house on Saturday morning.”

“Anybody know anybody who might want Al dead?”

“Yeah,” Vi

“And who might that be?”

“The guy whose liquor store we did on Friday afternoon. His name is Sean Fi

“Was there bad blood there?”

“You bet your ass there was bad blood. Last week we knocked over a poker game they were both playing in.”

“Is this guy Fi

“Nah,” Ryan said. “He’s the kind of guy who would pay somebody else to do it.”

“Any idea who he might have paid?”

“Maybe a dealer from Vegas who was in the game. Al said he was a mechanic, thought he was dealing off the bottom of the deck. Al said all the players were businessmen, not the sorts to resist when we robbed them. The dealer was another thing, though. We found a gun on him.”

“Well, whatever the story, looks like we’re going to be doing this job without Al,” Charlie said. “Are you guys still in?”

“Yep,” Vi

“Sure,” Ryan said. “Sean Fi

On Sunday evening Stone was enjoying an after-di

“Hello?”

“Stone, it’s Dan Harrigan.”

“Good evening, Dan.”

Dino perked up. “I want to speak to him.”

“You can speak to him tomorrow morning,” Viv said sternly.

Stone put the phone on speaker and set it on the coffee table. “Go ahead, Dan.”

“I got some new stuff: Gene Ryan took a plane from Newark to Fort Lauderdale this afternoon. We were supposed to be tipped if he even made a reservation, so he must have used another name. A woman, a clerical worker in the department, spotted him getting off the plane in Lauderdale. She was taking it back to Newark after a few days off.”

“Okay, then what?”

“Then he was gone. I guess he’s still there.”

“Does this mean anything?”

“He might be on the run, or think he is.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand that. On the run from what?”

“Al Parisi caught a bullet in the head late Friday night, so did his girlfriend.”

“Is Ryan a suspect?”

“He’s a person of interest. The Jersey cops want to talk to him.”

“And you think he might have run, thinking that?”

“Maybe.”

“Then why would he wait until Sunday afternoon to get a plane out?”

“Good question. I posed it myself, and they didn’t have an answer.”

“Any suspects besides Ryan?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’ll try and follow.”

“Apparently, Parisi was playing in an, ah, informal poker game when it got robbed, and one of the players, a liquor dealer named Sean Fi

“And Fi

“Yeah. Fi

“Well, the Fi

“Yeah, but if Fi

“Is he wanted for that?”

“Not enough evidence. If he ever comes back from Florida, though, the locals will want to talk to him.”

“Anything else, Dan?”

“Not right now. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Good night, then.” Stone hung up. “Did you get all that, Dino?”

“What a lot of garbage,” Dino said disgustedly.

—

Charlie, Gene, and Vi