“But what?”
“We’re gonna get a test when the shit gets to New York. If Dougie’s standing there looking at all those bags and a hundred feds come crashing through the doors, well... it could be Willy.”
“Doug won’t get anywhere close to it,” Behan said. “It’ll go straight out to the A level, a kilo or two at a time and they’ll be the ones who have hands on.”
“Okay,” Lange said. “But if it does get hit, we’ll need a closer look at Willy. I-I-I guess I don’t think it’ll happen. After the other night, I think Willy and Ally are on the level. I’m just sayin’, if that cargo does get hit, we’ll need to take a real close look. Because, let’s face it, we all know each other, we’re all watertight. If there’s a leak...”
“’Nuff said,” said Behan. “You’re right. If the hearse gets hit, anywhere along the line, we’ll look to Willy.”
“Willy’s okay,” Cattaneo said. “He’s in as deep as we are, now...”
Behan was watching him closely, and Cattaneo faltered, then asked, “What?”
“An odd thing happened yesterday,” Behan said, “which is why I brought up the whole subject.”
He pointed at Regio. “You told me that you stopped by their place yesterday around what, three o’clock, to tell them to ease off the dope? And they just got back from Bal Harbour?”
“Yeah, our guy saw them in a Hollywood bar the night before, a block down the street from their apartment. A Willy-style shithole called Ouroboros. They bought some cocaine from a dealer named Richard. He’s a well-known dealer, been around for a while. Not a cop.”
“So that looks good, that’s what we expected,” Behan said. “Then we thought they’d probably go out and shoot up some of the cash.”
“Yeah,” Regio said. “They did. Like I told you, it looked like they hit every shoe store in Bal Harbour Shops. Ally must have had ten bags stacked up in that apartment. Willy bought a pair of crocodile cowboy boots, which I didn’t even know they sold over there. Is that bad?”
“No, but a curious thing. Jack, you know Lauren Hopps, right?”
“Sure, I know Lauren.”
“Who’s Lauren Hopps?” Lange asked.
“Nice lady, smart, she’s with the Beach guys,” Behan said. “I knew her up in New York, she’s down here now, she supervises the girls working the South Beach. Anyway, she was up at the St. Regis Hotel yesterday for a late lunch, and as she was going in, she sees this FBI guy, Weaver, go by with what looked like a bunch of feds, on their way out of the hotel. Weaver was the task force guy up in Lauderdale, he was down at Romano’s place in that fight. So Lauren thinks I might be interested, because she kinda knows what we do, and she gives me a call.”
Regio: “Yeah? Does that mean something?”
“The St. Regis is right across the street from the Bal Harbour Shops. I meanrightacross the street. A one-minute walk. The feds would have been at the St. Regis at the same time as Willy and the hand-jive were supposedly shopping.”
Lange said, “Oh, shit.”
Behan shrugged. “Doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but it’s a curious coincidence. The Bal Harbour Shops are where I would have guessed those two would go. The feds? I don’t know about the feds, why the whole bunch of them would be at the St. Regis.”
They stood in silence for a moment, and then Cattaneo said, “You’re letting the shit go north?”
“Yeah, but I don’t want Willy back in the water until we find out what happens up there.”
“Can’t go back in anyway, not for a couple more days,” Cattaneo said. “Jesus, I’d hate to lose that shit. Three and a half bucks.”
“Only a small slice of what’s down there,” Behan said.
“Yeah, but...”
“Have you told Dougie about this?” Cattaneo asked.
“Of course. He told me to make the call, and I did.”
They stood around, not talking, nipping at the whiskey, until Behan said, “So, we’ll see. I thanked Lauren for the information, told her I knew some guys who might want to tap into her highest-end girls. If any of you guys are inclined, I’m buying.”
Lange and Regio shook their heads; faithful married men. Cattaneo said, “Well, if you’re buying. I hear they got some wild women down there.”
“That’s what I hear,” Behan said. “Feel free.”
