When Jack had gotten the call, Rusty’s first instinct was that Reginald and Vito somehow figured out where they were staying. Wanted to get them out of there so that they could plant bugs in the room. Rusty suggested that one of them stay in the room, just to make sure. But Jack told him that Reginald would have no way of knowing they were staying downtown, and they were always careful to check for tails when they went back to the hotel. But they hung a “do not disturb” sign on the door and set a full water glass just inside the entry way. If someone opened that door, it would tip the glass over and they’d know someone had been in the room.
“I see him,” Jack said. Enzo and Rusty both copied.
Rusty was in a different car, a black BMW X6 M, that was parked in a small lot along Appian Way, maybe two hundred yards from where Jack was to meet Enzo. Even though Rusty had never worked in the US as a fixer, he still knew people here, and it didn’t take him long to set a network up. Within a few days, he was able to get them nearly anything they needed, clean cars, weapons, whatever.
“I’ve got him too,” Rusty said in Jack’s ear.
Enzo was positioned at the lifeguard building located on the beach on the far side of a row of volleyball nets, about a hundred yards from the gazebo. Jack couldn’t see him from his position but knew that Enzo was in the lifeguard parking lot adjacent to the building, in the shadows beneath the palm trees. They had Vito’s exits covered. If he decided to make a run for it, his only escape route would be the roller coaster at the end of the pier or jumping into the water.
Jack walked purposefully across the half-empty parking lot. There were still a few straggling beachcombers, tourists packing up the last of their belongings and dragging their kids to the cars. A few cars were pulling into the lot, looking for an evening’s entertainment on the pier, but it was generally light, as it was a weeknight. Jack maneuvered between two cars slightly up from the gazebo, but the last fifty or so feet across the blacktop was open air and no possibility for cover. “Moving in,” Jack said.
The gazebos were large and circular, fashioned from iron, and during the summer, Jack thought they might have had canvas tarps over the top to shield them from the sun. There was a circular table in the center, which was well lit from the pair of bright lights atop the gazebo that shone down on the interior. They were located on the southern edge of the parking lot, on a small ledge that was about twelve feet over the beach. The area was well lit on two sides, with rows of tall lights along the edge of the parking lot and another in between the volleyball nets on the beach. All four of the beach volleyball courts had games going. Because of the glare from those lights, Jack couldn’t see exactly where Enzo was positioned. Jack saw Vito sitting at a table with a cup of coffee in front of him. Jack held his hands out to his side to show that he was (visibly) unarmed.
“Can I come in?” Jack asked.
Vito nodded, and Jack entered. Apart from jumping through the space between the bars—what passed for a window in the gazebo—and the resultant twelve-foot drop, there was nowhere to run to.
Vito looked like a hunted man.
His face was drawn and haggard, and even now Jack could see his eyes looking for the corners of the room. A space Jack noted ruefully that had no corners to speak of. Vito always had a slight build, but he looked diminished now. He was too old to be on the run, and every step he took probably reminded him of it.
“I’ve never liked the coffee here,” Vito said.
“I wasn’t aware you’d been to the States before.”
Vito only shrugged.
“The earpiece? What the fuck,” Vito said, now glaring at Jack with hard, dark, and unforgiving eyes.
“Relax, Vito. I didn’t come alone. As I suspect you didn’t either. My friends are just nearby to make sure this little chat stays civil. Nothing more.” Vito didn’t appear convinced and moved to stand. “Sit down,” Jack snarled. “If I was going to kill you, I’d have shot you when I walked in and been done with it.” Jack’s temper flared like a rogue wave, and he stopped himself before he said anything else. He could already feel his control slipping away. “You wanted to talk. What about?”
Vito let his breath out slowly, and Jack could smell the bad coffee on it. Vito looked away, not to the sea but inland to the buildings on the far side of the sand and the line of slowly moving cars in beachfront traffic.
“Vito, I don’t have a lot of patience for you, and what I have is running out fast.”
“Reginald is crazy,” Vito said, still looking away. “I think something happened to him in prison.”
“I don’t care. Why are you wasting my time?”
“The thing at his apartment, we figured it was you. The police from that town called him and wanted to know if he knew why someone would try to break in and how that would turn into a shootout. It spooked him.”
“Vito, look at me.”
Vito turned his head back to face Jack.
“Nico was there. He showed up right after I did.”
Vito tried to hide it, but the look of shock was unmistakable. Jack saw something else as Vito’s expression darkened. Mortality. Niccoló Bartolo was the only person on this earth Vito was well and truly afraid of.
“Constantino Fiore was with him. Why is Salvatore Cannizzaro involved in this?”
“Because I tried to sell him the diamonds once. Reginald and I were planning this from the beginning. Before I even contacted you. But when Europe locked down and it was impossible to travel, I got worried. I called Cannizzaro and told him what I had and could I sell them to him, since I knew he had a smuggling operation going. He offered me pennies, but what choice did I have?” Vito shrugged. “Then things turned around, and Reginald told me he had everything taken care of. I figured I could disappear.”
“Cannizzaro sent his people looking for you. Enzo broke into your house in Stresa to get the diamonds. Instead he found Cannizzaro’s men. Apparently, the don made up with his cousin and hired him to find you. But that just explains the what, not the why. What aren’t you telling me?”
Vito looked genuinely uncomfortable, like a bug under a magnifying glass. He shifted his focus to look over Jack’s shoulder at the beach volleyball game behind him, or possibly just staring off into space. Vito did that when he wanted to avoid answering direct questions.
“The Russians. Cannizzaro is in bed with some Russian gangster. Well, I guess he’s a businessman, but in that country there isn’t much difference between the two. I only know about this because I still have some contacts in his outfit. The story is that Cannizzaro found this Russian, Gennady Sokolov, who was a major smuggler. Sokolov really needed the diamonds for something. I don’t know what, so don’t ask. That’s why Cannizzaro is so hot to get them. He’s in deep shit with the Russian if he doesn’t.”
A cold laugh oozed out of Jack’s mouth, and Vito sneered at the sound. “I wouldn’t want to be you,” Jack said.
While Jack didn’t exactly confirm that it was him in Reginald’s apartment, he didn’t deny it either, and at this point, there was no way to hide it. The event might cause Reginald to change his patterns, drop his phone. Seeing Vito’s reaction when he learned Bartolo was involved was worthwhile. Jack surmised that Vito assumed the same thing about Cannizzaro, that there was no possible way his reach could extend all the way to the United States. Frankly, Jack wouldn’t have thought the man could push much farther beyond the boundaries of Rome. Vito knowing that it could was one thing, knowing that Bartolo was now involved would also put him on edge. This was the point where Vito and Reginald would start making mistakes because they were scared.
“Why am I here, Vito?”
“I told you Reginald is spooked. He’s erratic. After that thing at his place and the gunfight, like you’re fucking cowboys—”
“For the record, I was unarmed.” Mostly.
“Reginald is moving the diamonds to Singapore. He thinks he can sell them there to some of the Asian crime syndicates. He’s got them in this vault
downtown called WorldSecure. The company can move them anywhere in the world, armored cars, guards, everything. They’re flying out the day after tomorrow.”
“You said ‘they.’”
“Because I think he’s going to cut me out. I’m the link to you and Cannizzaro. Plus, Reginald doesn’t need me anymore. I already delivered the stones to him like it was fucking Christmas.”
“Killing you only severs the link to Cannizzaro. It doesn’t cut him off from me. Does Cannizzaro know anything about Reginald?”
“No,” Vito said and shook his head slowly.
“What’s his plan for me? He goes to Singapore and then what?”
Vito wasn’t the only one looking for exits here. If Reginald wanted to disappear to Asia, Jack might actually let him do it. If he left right now, even if Bartolo told Cannizzaro he was in Los Angeles and Danzig’s informant found out, Jack hadn’t done anything that Danzig could arrest him for. Well, impersonating a federal officer was unquestionably a felony, but Bartolo didn’t know anything about that.
Vito didn’t answer at first. When he spoke, his voice was low and measured, perfectly timed.
“When this is all over, he’s coming for you. He still blames you for going to prison.”
“Which time?” Jack said snidely.
“I’m serious, Jack. He said he’s going to burn your winery to the ground.”
Maybe it was the very real fire threat they were facing, but Vito’s words struck home. Vito couldn’t know about the wildfires, so it was just his phrasing and unfortunate coincidence, but the result was the same.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I never wanted to hurt you, Jack. We were close once. But this was a lot of money. And Reginald was my friend, or at least I thought he was. He said you betrayed him, gave him up to the police. I thought that was wrong.”
“He probably left out the part where he got someone to embezzle ten million dollars from my winery.”
Vito didn’t say anything.
“I thought so. So, you traded a four-way split of eighty million for a two-way split, and you expect me to believe that it was over some code of ethics you have?” Jack gave him a sharp, bitter laugh. “There’s no way in hell that you decided on a whim to shoot Rusty that night. You’d never have run with that amount of money without a plan. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this over the last two years, and I always believed you had a partner, I just didn’t think it would be him. For all I know, this is something you two have been planning for years and Reginald just had the bad luck of landing himself in prison again.” Jack held up a hand. “Don’t bother, I don’t care. Now he’s fucking you over because that’s what he does, and you’re coming to me for what, sympathy? Fuck you, Vito. That’s what you get for getting into bed with him. I wish you luck.”
“What happened in Rome…I’m sorry for that. That was business, but Reginald doesn’t have any right to go after your life like that. Like I said. I think he’s crazy.”
“I don’t believe for a second you feel an ounce of remorse over anything you’ve done. And it’s not clear to me why I needed to waste my night talking to you.”
“What if we got the diamonds instead?”
Jack laughed again in that same acidic tone, but his eyes narrowed. This was what he came here for tonight.
“So, what exactly do you propose? These guys have armored cars and guns. They control the diamonds end to end. I’m sure you can’t get them out of the vault without Reginald’s authorization. How exactly do you think I can help you? And are your two goons in on this, or are they siding with Reginald?”
“The plan is to fly out of that small airport north of here, Van Nuys, I think it’s called. WorldSecure will deliver the diamonds right to the airplane and manage the export paperwork. You and Enzo can easily sneak in and pretend to be ground crew. You just take the box from the guards. Make a switch. As for my men, I think Reginald got to them. I offered to pay them a million each for the week, then they go home. I suspect Reginald is offering much more.”
It was a plan, Jack could say that much for it, but there were holes you could drive through. Not the least of which was that the WorldSecure guards would maintain a chain of custody that didn’t end until that box was in the cargo hold. Though it might be possible to fake a ground emergency before takeoff or even fake a maintenance issue that forces them to unload the plane.
“You think Reginald is going to cut you out. Any idea when that happens?”
“Once we’re in Singapore. If this was his plan all along, then he’s got support there. Tommaso and Lucio have to check their weapons before they get on the plane, so I assume he does something once we get on the ground before they can re-arm. Or if they are working with him…” Vito shrugged.
Jack nodded in agreement. There were lots of ways this could be handled.
“I appreciate the warning about my place.”
Vito only nodded in response.
“About the other thing, I need to talk to my partners. You have to appreciate that we don’t trust you. Particularly Rusty.”
Vito blanched at that.
“Are you going to be in a place that I can call you later?”
“Yes. We’re renting a house now. Not far from here.”
“Okay,” Jack said, and he stood to leave. “I’ll let you know tonight if we’re in.”
Thirty minutes later, Jack met Enzo and Rusty at a beachfront diner called Patrick’s Roadhouse a few miles north of the pier on PCH. Enzo and Rusty rode together, Jack took a couple of cabs to make sure he wasn’t followed. They had a booth near the back, and both of them had glasses of beer when Jack arrived and one for him. Enzo had the side of the booth that would allow him to see the entire restaurant, since he could identify both Bartolo and Vito by sight. Jack slid into the spot next to him. The place had a gaudy Irish theme. The booths were bright green with a big shamrock right in the center of them. The music was loud and it was mostly full, which was what they wanted.
Jack shook his head and took a sip.
“What’s your read,” Rusty said.
“Oh, he’s so full of shit his eyes are brown,” Jack said. “But that doesn’t mean that he isn’t willing to double-cross Reginald. He said Reg is scared after that thing with Bartolo at his apartment.” Jack shifted his gaze to Enzo. “He looked genuinely freaked out when I told him Nico was involved. I think that was news to him.”
Enzo nodded and said darkly, “To all of us.”
Jack continued, “Vito said Reginald is going to move the diamonds to the WorldSecure vault in Singapore day after tomorrow. Feels safer there. He’s going to try selling them to the Asian crime syndicates. That was the phrase he used.”
“Singapore has some of the toughest organized crime laws in the world,” Rusty said.
“Which any thief worth his salt would know.”
“You think he’s on the level?”
“I did until the Singapore thing. Now I’m not so sure.”
“What if he’s telling the truth?” Rusty asked. “Could it be possible that Reginald really is wigged out? It’s not an uncommon pattern with people like him. He’s been in the system twice now. Three strikes and he dies in prison. We’ve got an Italian organized crime outfit having a shootout at his apartment. The police are now involved. His parole officer is going to ask questions Reginald won’t have good answers for. With Reginald’s track record, playing dumb isn’t going to cut it.” Rusty paused to take a sip from his beer. “He is probably more scared of going back to prison than anything. I think Vito could be on the level.”
“Yeah, and it’s been at least a week since he’s sold someone out,” Enzo said dryly.
“We’ve basically got the ride home to think this through. If we believe Vito enough to side with him, we need to tell him tonight.”
“The other option,” Enzo said, “is we could say nothing and just go do it.”
“If we don’t tell him, though, does that risk him sa
ying something to Reginald?” Rusty asked. “He wouldn’t tell LeGrande that he came here tonight, but there are ways to drop hints that he thinks we may be onto them.”
Jack signaled for the check.
“If we’re in, we need to tell him. Take the ride home to think it through.”
They drove back to downtown mostly in silence, a classic rock station played on the radio. They valeted the X6 and walked up to the room.
Jack was the first into the room and noticed the dark splotch of spilled liquid on the carpet. He held up a hand and then brought one finger to his mouth, indicating silence.
The cup of water behind the door was tipped over.
19
Danzig was in this room because of the memory of a dead cop.
And that welcome was almost worn out.
Giovanni Castro had been running an informant in the Cannizzaro mafia for years. True, this was while Castro was himself on Cannizzaro’s payroll…but organized crime in Italy was a complicated affair. When Castro turned up dead of an apparent suicide, his informant called the phone number on the card Castro gave him. The thing he was supposed to do if what happened actually did.
That was Special Agent Katrina Danzig’s cell phone number.
This was a serpentine investigation, and the FBI’s presence here was tenuous. The Bureau didn’t have jurisdiction outside the US over crimes that didn’t involve American citizens, but they did provide bilateral support in law enforcement, intelligence sharing, and counterterrorism. Though on that last score they’d stretched their mandate to the absolute limit. These activities were coordinated through the FBI’s senior officer in a given country, the legal attaché, or LEGAT. This situation was different, though. Not only did Danzig have the informant, but he abjectly refused to talk to Italian law enforcement. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was run by a dirty cop. On top of that, everything they knew about the massive money laundering and public corruption scheme that Salvatore Cannizzaro was running out of his bank in central Rome came to the FBI courtesy of a different informant, one Gentleman Jack Burdette. The Italians didn’t think they had enough to prosecute Cannizzaro at the time; Danzig believed it was because he had a judge in his pocket. This was the reason that the investigation shifted to their DIA.
Once a Thief (Gentleman Jack Burdette Book 3) Page 18