Present Day, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1986— 1:00 PM
Dominick Edge still couldn't believe it. He was grinning as he drove the Shark through the intersection of Bloomfield Avenue and Route 23, passing a White Castle hamburger joint on the corner.
The cassette, a copy of the recording he'd made of the telephone conversation he'd had with Liu Shifu and "Tim" that morning, was in his pocket. He was coming from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms offices in Newark, where he'd returned Shifu's call on a phone rigged to a tape recorder. The Operation Angel task force had been hastily summoned for a meeting, and he was heading for the Organized Crime Bureau offices in Fairfield.
Dominick couldn't wait to see Robert Carroll's face when he heard what was on this tape. The deputy attorney general was gonna get up and do a dance on the table. Shifu had basically admitted to killing with cyanide. It was on tape. And that business about putting it in a spray mist—Jesus! How could a jury not convict this guy when they heard that? Carroll was gonna think it was his birthday.
A traffic light turned red up ahead, and Dominick pulled to a stop. There was a small shopping center with a Newberry's on the right and a Chinese restaurant called the Great Wall of China on the left. Suddenly Dominick's beeper went off. He pulled the device out of his pocket and glanced at the number on the LCD readout just as the light turned green. Area code 609-327.... It was the same number in south Jersey that Shifu had called from that morning. The car behind him honked its horn, telling him to go.
Dominick gave it some gas and drove on, wondering what he should do. His policy was to make Shifu wait, to maintain his control over the situation, but he had a feeling that might not be the best thing to do right now. He'd asked Shifu to find military arms for him; he'd told him it would be a big order, up to a half million dollars' worth.
Even Michael Dominick Provenzano wouldn't play it cool for a deal that big. It wouldn't make sense, and Shifu could get suspicious. If Shifu was as paranoid as most bad guys were, he might think Dominick always took his time getting back to him because he needed time to set up recording equipment. Shifu might start to think that he was working with the cops or that he even was a cop. Dominick decided it might be smart to return this call right away. He spotted a phone booth outside a diner up ahead on the left, turned on his signal, and pulled into the lot.
In the phone booth he read the number off his beeper and punched it out. It rang twice before it was picked up.
"Hello?" It was Shifu.
"Hello, Shifu? It's me."
"Hey, Dom. How's it going?"
"Good. What's up?"
"You at a pay phone?"
"Yeah, we can talk."
"Okay, listen. We made some calls, and Tim's getting a sample for you."
"Oh, yeah? What's he getting?"
"A hit kit."
"What caliber?"
"It'll be a twenty-two, already fitted with a screw-on silencer."
"What's the price?"
"Eleven hundred dollars for this one. You place a bigger order, we'll see what we can do."
"That's eleven hundred for the set, right?"
"Right."
"Okay, that sounds good to me. I'll give the girl a call and see if she's interested."
"Okay. And if she is, we can get together so you can look the piece over. Gotta check the merchandise out before you buy it, right?" Shifu was chuckling.
"Of course. What you thinking?" Dominick laughed with him.
"You know the Vince Lombardi exit off the turnpike up north?"
"Yeah?"
"We can meet there."
"Okay....that sounds possible." Dominick was still wondering why he wanted to meet there.
"When do you want to get together then?"
"Well, lemme talk to my girl first. She may not want this kind of stuff."
"What you mean, Dom?" Shifu's good humor faded. "I thought you told Tim you were looking for hit kits?"
Dominick turned on the attitude. "I did, Shifu. But you know how broads are. They ever give you a fucking reason for changing their minds."
"No, but—"
"Is there a problem with holding on to the piece until I can talk to her."
"No, that's not it—"
"Then lemme find her so I can make sure this is what everybody wants. That okay with you." Dominick was on the border between aggressive and belligerent. He was stalling Shifu, but he couldn't make it sound like he was stalling.
"All right, I tell you what, Dom. l'll beep you in a couple of days, and we'll take it from there."
"Beautiful."
"You're sure your girl wants this stuff? I mean, the whole order, the big one."
Dominick laughed. "She wants it. Believe me, she wants it. But I'll be honest with you. Shifu. For the first deal she's gonna bust balls 'cause that's the way these people are. But once they trust you, she'll be buying so much fucking shit you're gonna change your name to Sears. You know what I'm saying?"
"I hear you." Shifu laughed, but it sounded forced.
"Okay, you beep me over the weekend, and we'll set up a date. I'm ninety-nine percent sure she'll want these pieces, but I wanna make sure. Okay?"
"Okay. I'll be talking to you."
"Take it easy."
Dominick hung up and stared blankly at traffic whizzing by on Route 23. He wondered what Shifu was thinking.
Did he think Dominick was stalling him?
And why did he want to meet at the Vince Lombardi Service Area?
Why there? It was a busy place, good for getting lost in the crowd, but a lot of bad stuff went down there.
Where exactly at Lombardi would he suggest they meet? In the men's room? No way. Too hard to place backups in a bathroom. Besides, it was an enclosed space. What if he had a little nasal spray bottle full of cyanide?
Dominick headed back to his car. He knew he was going to have to meet Shifu again sometime, and it looked like he might have to go along with Shifu's meeting place of choice, the Lombardi Service Area. The problem was, how would they control the situation there?
He turned the key in the ignition and started the engine. As he pulled back out into traffic, he wondered how quickly he could react if he was sprayed in the face. Would he stand a chance if he held his breath? Maybe he'd better find out some more about this stuff. His eyes stung just thinking about it.