"I have no intention of breaking your trust. You have my word. But hey, really quick, before I let you go, do you have a name?"
"You're killing me, Sil."
"Come on. I'll owe you one."
"You fucking better."
"When have I ever not been a man of my word?"
"Alright, alright. But you didn't hear it from me. It's some dude named Harry. Can't tell you a last name cause I don't know it so don't even ask."
"I can work with this, man, thank you."
"If this shit blows up, I'm not taking the fall." Dravin hangs up the line, leaving me with more than I had when I called him, and that alone is better than what I've figured out all day.
Ricardo has tons of dirt on him, but he's a criminal, so it's expected. What's hard to figure out is anything that can get his longest confidants to turn their back on him. People can point fingers and talk shit but until you have some rock-solid evidence, it's all hearsay, and that shit only starts pissing matches that fizzle out quicker than they start.
I dial another number, knowing exactly who I need to talk to.
He picks up on the third ring. "Find anything?"
"Can you talk?"
"Yeah, what's up?"
"I need you to tell me what all has gone missing."
Miller exhales dramatically. "I'd have to get you a full inventory, but everything from guns to art. Why?"
"Did it go to the cops or is it MIA?"
"Most of the guns were taken by the police, yeah. But some high-dollar art is completely missing. I'll have to call my guy and figure it out."
"Who's your guy?" I ask him.
"Why?"
"Because I got the name of a rat, someone working for Dom that's playing double agent."
"Tell me the name."
"Tell me who your guy is and I'll tell you if it's him."
Miller pauses like he's considering my question. We've worked together a long time and I've always liked the kid, but he reminds me a bit too much of myself, the bad parts of me. "His name's Harry."
"I'm going to need you to send me Harry's information."
"Is he our guy?"
"Yeah."
"Fuck," Miller blurts out and quickly pulls himself together. "I'll handle this."
"I'm going with you," I insist. "I'm not taking no for an answer. I'm trained in interrogation."
"Fine."
I could easily hang up, but another unknown lingers in my head. "How's our girl?"
