“You bet he can. Deacon had blood on his shirt cuffs when Kelly saw him after the murder. He blackmailed Deacon for a spot in the DA’s Office. He’s lucky Deacon didn’t cut his throat.”
“Good going, Dino! What about Brougham?”
“He had to know about the doctored tape, but we won’t get him unless Deacon testifies against him. He’s already resigned, though.” Dino was cutting cross-country, avoiding the Long Island Expressway, cutting through residential neighborhoods and commercial districts.
Stone noted that their speed had never dropped below sixty, and at times was more than eighty. It was as
fast as he’d ever traveled in an urban area.
“How did your conversation with Eduardo go?” Dino asked.
“Don’t talk, drive,” Stone said.
“I drive better when I talk,” Dino said, jumping the curb and cutting across the lawn of a corner house to avoid a delivery truck. “What did he have to say?”
“He said he thought that Brougham would never be a problem again.”
“Yeah, he would be happy about that, wouldn’t he? Now Dante will get a new trial, and Eduardo can take credit for it with the goombahs.”
“We couldn’t have broken this without him,” Stone said. “You might remember that.”
“Yeah, it sort of takes the thrill away, you know?” Dino hit the six-lane approach to Kennedy, driving down the shoulder past heavy traffic. “Did Eduardo propose?”
“Propose what?”
“Marriage.”
“What are you talking about, Dino?” Stone asked, closing his eyes tightly as they veered around a disabled car on the shoulder.
“You know what he’s doing, don’t you? He’s arranging a marriage for Dolce.”
“Dino, Dolce is already married.”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? Somebody capped Johnny Donato this afternoon.”
Stone froze. “You’re kidding; tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’m not kidding.”
“Who did it?”
“We’ll probably never know, but I wouldn’t have a heart attack if somebody told me it was Dolce herself. It was a straight mob hit, two rounds to the back of the head.” Dino chuckled.
“It’s not funny.”
“Sure, it is,” Dino said. He swung onto the drive to the international terminal and screeched to a halt. Andy Anderson came running to meet them.
“I’ve alerted airport security,” he said. “Here comes their chief, now.”
A man in a dark suit approached. “Lieutenant Bacchetti? I’m Sam Warren, head of airport security. Tell me what I can do to help.”
“You’ve seen the pictures?”
Warren nodded. “They’re being distributed to my people now, but from what I’ve heard of the timing, these two guys are already past security and into the departure area. We’re talking about twenty-five gates, and there’s at least one flight leaving from every one of them between now and midnight.”
“Shut them down,” Dino said.
“Beg pardon?”