At the Vince Lombardi Service Area, Dominick Edge stood just inside the glass doors at Roy Rogers, his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, holding his gun in the right pocket. The Nagra tape recorder concealed on his body was running. Three investigators from the state's Organized Crime and Racketeering Bureau were at different booths in the fast-food restaurant, blending in. One of the three was Ron Donahue, who was hunched over a paper cup of tea, drinking it slowly and making it last. A fourth investigator was sitting in a stall in the men's room, just in case. They were waiting for Liu Shifu.
Dominick had waited all day Monday for Shifu's promised phone call, but it never came. Tuesday had passed, and there was still no word from him. Dominick was discouraged. He'd thought about calling Shifu himself, but he didn't like that idea. The way Shifu had sounded the last time they talked, it was as if they'd never met. At this point, if Dominick called him, in effect they'd be starting all over again, clean slate, except Dominick would be in the weaker position because he'd be the one doing the pursuing. That, he didn't want. He'd decided to wait it out a little longer and see what would happen.
Then, that morning, Shifu finally beeped him, but when they'd talked, he was still cool and evasive. He was making excuses, telling Dominick that he'd lost his number and that's why he hadn't called sooner. Dominick said he wanted to meet him so they could discuss a few things, but Shifu tried to put him off, saying that he didn't have the time because he was leaving for south Jersey in a little while. Dominick insisted, and Shifu finally agreed to meet him at the Vince Lombardi Service Area.
Dominick scanned the parking lot through the glass doors, then looked at his watch. He knew he was going to have to make the sales pitch of his life. Not hard sell, though. That would just send Shifu back into the bushes. No, he was going to have to be very subtle but also totally up front. He was going to have to appeal to the only thing that apparently turned the Angel of Death on: money.
The restaurant was visible in the reflection of the glass doors. Outside, it was cold and blustery. Dominick didn't like the idea of meeting Shifu inside, but given the weather, he didn't have much choice. For one thing, there were too many people inside. What if something happened and he had to pull his gun. Then there was the bathroom problem. What if Shifu wanted to go talk in the men's room. It was an enclosed space. What if Shifu was on to Dominick and he'd decided to get rid of him with his cyanide spray. The man stationed in the toilet wouldn't be much help in that case. That's why Dominick had already decided that he would try to head off any suggestion that they go into the bathroom by saying he hadn't had lunch yet and he was starved.
Of course, the thought of eating with Shifu wasn't very comforting either. All Dominick could think of was Li Xian's last hamburger. He was definitely going to make sure that he ordered the food and that it didn't leave his sight. He was glad Ron Donahue was sitting there. Ronnie would watch for something like that, and Ronnie wouldn't hesitate if he saw Shifu trying to pull something.
At two o'clock on the nose Shifu arrived, this time in a different car, a red Oldsmobile Cutlass Calais. Dominick watched the big man cross the parking lot. He was wearing his gray leather bomber jacket and pressed jeans with a sharp crease down the leg. He was also wearing the dark glasses again. A bad sign. The members of the task force had agreed that these were his "motherfucker glasses." Whenever he wore them, that was usually the attitude he had.
Shifu pushed through the glass doors. "Hey, Dom. What's new?"
Dominick shook his hand. "You're getting smaller and smaller, my friend. What are you, on a diet?"
Shifu laughed, but Dominick could tell that it was forced.
"You want coffee.? I haven't had lunch. C'mon, let's have something."
"Not for me. You go ahead."
They headed for the counter and stood in line together so Dominick could get something to eat.
"Those things I wanted. Shifu. The five or ten.? You know what I'm talking about? Can you get them for me?"
Shifu shrugged. "They're down there if you want them. You go get them yourself, though. They're in Delaware." He kept his glasses on.
"And you know that he's got ten."
"Ten, twenty, thirty, whatever you want. But I don't wanna transport them. If you want them, you go get them."
Shifu was wearing his attitude like a fur coat. Dominick knew it was time to start his pitch.
"Tim explained to you that these pieces aren't for the girl, didn't he. This is a favor I'm doing for a wiseguy in New York. Small change. This isn't the big one. That's what I gotta talk to you about."
Dominick got to the head of the line, and Shifu waited for him to order. Behind the counter a pimply kid in a paper hat punched out Dominick's selections on the cash register, then went to fetch his order.
"My people are ready to buy. They said they don't need samples. All they want is a list of what you can get." Dominick lowered his voice. "I know they got at least five hundred grand to spend on ammo alone."
Shifu didn't answer. He was looking down at Dominick's plastic tray as the kid behind the counter filled it: a carton of milk, a Coke, large fries, and a cheeseburger. As Dominick paid, Shifu went to find an empty booth at the far end of the room by the windows. Dominick carried his tray over to him, passing Ron Donahue sipping his tea. They didn't look at each other.
At the table Dominick unwrapped his cheeseburger and took a bite. He wasn't going to put it down until it was finished. Shifu sat there with his fingers linked on the tabletop, a stone face behind the dark glasses.
"My people are looking for grenades, machine guns, all that kind of shit. You know what I mean? We're ready to put in our order."
Shifu sucked on his teeth. "Yeah, I keep hearing about this big order, but my guy wants to know when. It's getting embarrassing for me."
"I'm giving you the order now. If Tim can handle it, we're buying. Just get me a list of what he's got."
"Okay. I'll get you one." The big man sucked his I teeth.
"What's your girl gonna do over there? Start a war. I wanna know so I can move outta the way a little bit." Shifu was smiling. It seemed genuine.
"Shifu, I don't give a fuck what she's gonna do with it. As long as her cash is green, that's all I care about."
"That's all I care about, too. I just want to get you two guys together and let you do your thing. I'm gonna step aside and stay out of it. All I want is my commission when it's all over."
"Of course." Dominick stuck a straw in his soda and took a drink. "But right now I need those ten pieces. Tell me the truth now, can I get them right away. I promised this guy I would try."
"You willing to go down to Delaware to get them."
"No problem. I'll pick them up. Wherever they are."
Shifu took off his glasses. "Tim's got them. They're down there. If you'll pick them up, there's no problem."
"Good. You make the arrangements and get back to me, tell me when and where. Okay."
Shifu nodded. "Will do."
Dominick stuffed a few french fries into his mouth.
"So what happened with your little Jewish friend?"
Dominick took a drink of soda and swallowed. "I wanted to talk to you about that. The kid says he may want to do two or maybe three keys now. Is it still possible to do what we talked about, you know, with the cyanide shit."
"Dom, if you can get me a little bit of cyanide, I could take this kid out easy. Just walk up to him, spray it in his face, and he'll never see the next fucking minute."
"Guaranteed?"
"My friend, consider it done already. The kid will never know what hit him. Once it gets into his system, he's done for. He's gone."
"What about his car and stuff? What do we do with it?"
Shifu shrugged. "What do you want to do with it? All I'm interested in is taking his money. Just leave him. Don't touch nothing. You wanna move him, move him. But I don't see it as a problem. Just leave him where he is. He'll look like he's sleeping."
"That's what I want. Whack him without any fucking problems. Then we got his cash, plus the coke I bring to the meet."
"See that old guy sitting over there." Shifu pointed with his glasses.
Dominick turned around in his seat. He was pointing at Ronnie Donahue. Dominick's hand went to his lap, ready to go for the gun in his pocket. "Yeah. What about him?"
"I could walk by and—pssst—give him a little swish in the face, and I could walk right outta here and no one would even realize what happened to the guy. Except when someone asks him to get up and move. That's when they'd realize he wasn't with us anymore."
Dominick relaxed and reached for his soda. "You know, I get offers for these kinds of jobs in the city sometimes. Would you be willing to teach me how to use this stuff on somebody? What's the best effect?"
"The best way is to hit him right in the nose with a spray so he inhales it. Once he inhales it, he's done. There ain't nothing he can do about it. Only thing is, you gotta be careful you're not downwind, 'cause if you inhale it, you're gone."
Dominick nodded. "Yeah. That makes sense."
"My friend, I've done it on a busy street where they thought the guy had a heart attack. I walked right up to him, made like I was sneezing into my handkerchief to I protect myself, and sprayed him in the face. He tripped and fell, and everyone thought he had a heart attack.
Later on they found out that that wasn't what killed him! I've done it on the busiest street in the world. People all over the place."
Dominick smiled and shook his head in amazement. He was trying to imagine what Carroll's face was going to look like when he heard this. This was pure gold.
"And the beautiful part is, when they find out it's not an accident after all, they're not gonna know what happened. Once they do the autopsy, they're gonna know he sniffed something, but they'll never figure out that he sniffed cyanide. Nobody sniffs fucking cyanide."
"Right. Of course not."
"If you gotta do a job, Dom, that's the way to do it. Nice and neat. No mess."
"You're right. Nice and neat....nice and neat." Dominick looked down at the last bite of cheeseburger in his hand and the french fries spread out on the plastic tray, and he suddenly remembered the photos of Sean Xiao's body. He wondered if that one had been "nice and neat," too.