I tore back to the motel to pick up Lizzie, the picture almost clear to me but still not believing it. The outline terrifying enough.
I parked at the back, Lizzie watching for me from the window. I signalled for her to come to the car while I went to the payphone.
I was out of breath when I shoved the nickel into the slot. Newland picked up right away.
‘What are you hearing about Siegel’s murder?’ I said. The radio newscast in the car was speculating about an assassination by rival mobsters – but that was always the first story the cops would’ve put out.
‘Did you get to Lufkins?’ he said.
‘Yes. Tell me about Siegel.’
‘No way. You sound like you just watched your own funeral. Something’s going on with you and I want in.’
‘Believe me, you don’t.’
‘Siegel’s dead. Moe Rosenberg’s back from the dead. And you turned into a mind reader—’
‘Say that again.’
‘Yeah, I wondered if you’d heard about Rosenberg.’
The missing piece. ‘Tell me.’
‘You go first.’
I couldn’t even think where to start. Unproven, unassailable, no part of it I could break off to divert him with. ‘If I’m right, you’re in as much danger as me. Unless I know all of it, I can’t protect you.’
The line fuzzed as he exhaled hard.
‘Whatever it is I’ll find out soon enough,’ I said. ‘The best way to protect yourself is give me this head start. This goes way beyond a damn story, but if there’s any of us left alive at the end of it, you can have it all.’
The line was silent. I looked at the highway, expecting cars to come screeching off it any second.
Then he said, ‘Moe Rosenberg walked into the Flamingo this morning and took control.’