“We have a new problem. I had a call this morning; the police are now looking for them, and they’ve got photographs, too, although we managed to slow the prints down a little.”
“That’s not good.”
“It means that we will just have to find them first, and if we do, we won’t have as much time as I’d hoped to fake a crime. The important thing, though, is that they are dead.”
“I understand.”
“I want a dozen men on the streets on the Upper East Side, ready to do the work at a moment’s notice. Give them stolen cellular telephones, and tell them to be brief when they use them.”
“No problem.”
“Be sure each man has a silenced weapon, too, and tell them to use knives if at all possible. This will have to be done quickly and with little fuss.”
“What about bystanders?”
“Leave no one alive who could identify our people. I don’t want this to come back to us.”
“Yes, padrone.”
“Get to me the minute you have news.” Bianchi left the coffeehouse and went back to his car.
Dino stood in the squad room handing out photographs. “Sorry these took so long, but we had problems with the photo lab. We’re looking for these two for aggravated battery, but the thing is, we think one or both of them may have capped Arnie Millman, so this is an all-out push. Those of you on a beat, I want every doorman in a hotel or apartment building to see these pictures. If you glom onto these guys, don’t try to take them; call for backup. I don’t want no dead heroes. Got that?”
There was a murmur of assent from the gathering.
“Okay, get on it,” Dino said, then went back to his office and called Stone. “How you feeling, pal?”
“A lot better, thanks.”
“The pictures of the Bruces are on the street; we’re doing a full-court press.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Stone, I hope you won’t go looking for these guys.”
“You can always hope.”
“It’s better to let us find them. You can be the star witness at the trial. Stay home and get well.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You got a piece?”
“I have.”
“Well, that’s something.”
“I never fail to take your advice twice, Dino.”
Stone hung up the phone, got undressed, shaved, and showered. Arrington rewound the Ace bandage around his sore ribs.
“How’s that?” she asked.
“It’s okay; I’m really feeling a lot better.”
“I’m going out for a while; will you be okay?”
“Sure. Where you going?”