and then taken up to New Jersey for burial.”
Rae: “They bought a body?”
“Exactly. The old woman was at the medical examiner’s, she was going to be cremated and, you know, disposed of, however they do it here. Cattaneo gave her son a couple hundred bucks to transfer her to the funeral home.”
“Sounds like an upright guy, the son does,” Virgil said. “But a hearse?”
“It’s a big vehicle with a lot of good hiding places and it’s got a coffin with a body in it,” Weaver said. “Not even cops are going to mess with a body, if there’s a fender-bender or something.”
“You know when they’re leaving?” Virgil asked.
“No. We’re watching, we assume it’ll be soon, but it’ll probably take two days to get it up to New Jersey,” Weaver said. “We won’t let them keep the dope, but we want to get it as close to Sansone as we can. We want him looking at it, if that’s possible.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Virgil shook his head. “Man, that’s a problem. That’s not the way it’s supposed to go . . .”
“Virgil’s right,” Lucas said. “I’ll tell you what. I never was a narc, but I knew all the narcs in Minnesota, and if you think Sansone’s going to drive over to some motel to look at that heroin, you’re dreaming. He knows what heroin looks like. When that heroin comes in, he’ll be skiing in New Hampshire. There’s only one thing about the dope that Sansone is going to be connected to, and that’s the money that comes from it.”
“That’s not the plan . . .” the agent began.
“Then we need a new plan,” Lucas snapped.
“Yeah, you do,” Virgil said. “I thought this was settled. You’re all worried I’m going to drown, but I’ve got all kinds of bailouts for that—I could swim to shore if I needed to. You fuck up in New York, and Rae and I are in trouble. They’ll kill us, or try to.”
Rae: “You really can’t hit them first down here, either, because that word will instantly get back north and Sansone’s people will dump the dope and scatter.”
Lucas said to Virgil, “We’ll get a new plan. If I have to, I’ll drag Louis Mallard’s ass down here to explain it to these boys.”
Weaver put up his hands: “Okay, okay. No need to do that. New plan, then. We don’t have much time, but we’ll work something out.”
“I’ll tell you what we work out—we follow the money,” Virgil said. “Sansone won’t look at the heroin, but he sure as shit will look at the money coming back.”
“I gotta talk to the Manhattan AIC,” Weaver said. “We’re getting pressure to keep the dope off the street.”
“I’ll give you some help with that, talking with the AIC,” Lucas said to Weaver.
“Lucas, goddamnit . . .”
* * *
Virgil said to Lucas, momentarily cutting out the feds, but loud enough for them to hear, “I’m counting on you, man. You got to get us out. Don’t let these fools go after the dope and leave me in the water.”
“I’ll take care of it. If I have to yank you out and leave the FBI standing there in New York with their dicks in their hands, I’ll do it.”
Weaver said, “Hey, that’s not . . .”
Virgil interrupted: “But I come back to the other question: why are Rae and I standing here with you?”
Lucas said, “We need to know where you’re at. Where your head’s at. The thought of that dive scares the crap out of most of us. You won’t be diving today or tomorrow, but how about the day after tomorrow? Weather is supposed to be better . . .”
Virgil shook his head: “Cattaneo said we wouldn’t be going back out for two or three days. As far as my head is concerned, it’s not hard diving, as long as you’re not scared of the dark.”
“Or sharks,” an agent said.
“Sharks aren’t a problem,” Virgil said. “I’m more worried about losing my dive computer and getting disoriented. But it’s a solid computer, so that’s unlikely. These guys are so greedy that as long as I keep pulling up the junk, they’re happy to keep me working.”
“You’re good with making more dives?” Lucas asked.
“I’m fine with it,” Virgil said. “My bigger worry is that the Coast Guard gets onto us, and they shoot first and ask questions later . . . that wouldn’t be good.”
One of the agents said, “We’re monitoring them. If they look like they might