Page 55

The address Gennaro had given Fratelli belonged to the Arts and Craft Beer Parlor, just south of West 116th Street.

Gennaro was positioned on an elevated walkway that connected the east Columbia campus to that on the other side of the road and could easily see the location.

Gennaro used his binoculars to search farther down Amsterdam Avenue but spotted no sign of the Range Rover yet.

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

When he saw his sister’s name, he punched Accept .

“Are you there yet?”

“Yeah. Where’s this briefcase I’m supposed to pick up?”

“Not there yet.”

“How much longer am I going to have to wait?”

“Just sit tight. It’ll get there when it gets there.”

“If it’s not here in ten minutes, I’m out of here,” she declared.

“I have things to do.”

“Don’t you dare go anywhere until you have it in your hands, do you hear me?”

“Or what?”

He bit back what he really wanted to say and gave himself a second to calm down.

“Look, you do this for me, and you can take a week off, okay?”

“A whole week?”

“All seven days.”

After a few seconds of silence, she said, “All right. I’ll stay. But after today, don’t expect to see me around the house.”

“But only for a week,” he stressed, even though he didn’t really care since he’d be long gone by then.

He just couldn’t help reminding her that he called the shots.

She grunted, then hung up.

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and raised the binoculars again, then grinned.

A black Range Rover was coming up Amsterdam.

When it reached the beer place, it parked at the curb.

There was a woman in the driver’s seat, and what appeared to be two people in the back.

He increased magnification to get a closer look.

As expected, sitting in the rear were Johnny Fratelli and Stone Barrington.

Gennaro did a quick look around to see if any other cars appeared to be traveling with them, but nothing set off any alarms.

He pulled out the throwaway phone and called Fratelli.

“You made it with six minutes to spare. Well done.”

“Where do I take this?”

“Relax. You’re not there yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Next stop, the Javits Convention Center. You’ve got thirty minutes.”

“What the hell? I’m not interested in playing games. I want this done.”

“Patience, Johnny. This isn’t a game. It’s what you gotta do to make sure no one else you know gets hurt.”

Fratelli started to say something else, but Gennaro hung up, then used his own phone to call Toomey and said, “I’m on my way.”

“He’s trying to make sure we’re alone,” Jack said.

Stone nodded.

“Alicia, can you—”

“I’ve already input the convention center into the GPS.”

As they pulled back onto the road, Stone called Dino.

“He’s sending us to the Javits Center now.”

“Hold on.” Dino relayed the info to Watkins, then said into the phone, “The Hudson Parkway will be fastest.”

“I believe we’re already headed that way,” Stone said.

He glanced at Alicia through the rearview mirror for confirmation.

“We are,” she said.

Alicia handled the roads like she’d been living in the city her entire life, and soon they were approaching the Javits Center.

“Stop near the front entrance,” Stone said.

“Very good, sir,” Alicia said.

As she guided the Range Rover across the bus lane and to the curb, Dino called.

“We’re around the corner on Thirty-Fourth,” he said.

“I also have four units in the area.”

“Make sure they stay out of sight,” Stone said.

“We don’t want to scare him off.”

“May I remind you I have done this a time or two.”

“If you must,” Stone said.

“I’ll call you back as soon as we’ve heard from him.”

Exactly thirty minutes after the previous call had ended, Jack’s throwaway phone rang again.

“How much do you want to bet this isn’t our last stop?” Stone asked.

“No bet.”

Jack pressed Accept , and after a beat, the distorted voice came through the speaker.

“Hiya, Johnny. Have a nice drive?”

“Just say what you have to say,” Jack replied.

“No need to be so testy.”

“Get on with it.”

“Okay, okay. You have twenty minutes to reach Bryant Park, starting now.”

The line clicked off.

“Bryant Park?” Alicia asked.

“Please,” Stone said.

After Columbia University, Toomey had driven Gennaro directly to Columbus Circle and parked in the garage of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel.

They had just reached the crosswalk at Broadway when Gennaro’s timer went off, letting him know Fratelli should have made it to the Javits Center.

“Gimme a sec,” he said and stepped a few feet away.

After calling Fratelli and passing on the next instructions, he rang Rosa.

“It won’t be long now,” he said.

“I thought it wouldn’t be long before,” she sniped.

“Thirty minutes at the outside, all right?” he said.

“And how am I supposed to find this briefcase?” she asked.

“I can’t imagine it’ll just be sitting around down here.”

“Everyone wants to be a smart aleck today.”

“I’m glad to know I’m not the only one annoyed with you.”

“Stow the attitude,” he said.

“Sure, Ricky. Whatever you want.”

“That’s better.” He instructed her on how to handle the pickup and where to bring it after, then said, “Repeat it back.”

She did so.

“Good,” he said.

“I’ll contact you when it arrives. Be ready.”

He hung up.

“Everything all right?” Toomey asked.

“What?” Gennaro asked, surprised.

Toomey was standing closer to him than he had thought.

“Oh, yeah. That was my sister. She can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

Toomey nodded.

“So, we still headed to the subway?”

Gennaro glanced across the street and spotted several of the ubiquitous food carts.

“We have a little time to kill. How about I treat you to a hot dog?”

Rosa knew she probably shouldn’t keep pushing her brother as much as she had, but it was too much fun.

She was sure he’d panicked when she’d acted like she wasn’t going to hang around long enough to collect his money.

She would have loved to see that in person.

But what she really wished she could witness was his reaction when he found out that she’d double-crossed him and had been playing him all along.

She moved over to the wall as a new wave of commuters jostled past her, holding tight to the pair of duffel bags she’d purchased that morning.

One held two boxes.

In the first was a Setchu cashmere and cotton dress that looked nothing like the drab clothes she usually wore, and in the second was a pair of Jimmy Choo flats she’d been eyeing for months.

They were the most expensive things she’d ever bought herself, but she’d been squirreling money away for years in anticipation of finally getting back at her brother.

The contents of the other duffel were more important, however, as it would be the key to her clean getaway.

Her phone dinged with a text.

She pulled it out, thinking it was a message from her brother.

Instead, it was from the InterContinental Presidente Cozumel Resort Spa, confirming her reservation for that evening.

She smiled and put her phone away.