WITH SIMON PURCELL outed, my brothers in blue will swarm Bumpers like a plague of locust. Knowing this, I relocate the Pathfinder to a multi-level parking garage off 47th. In the rear seat, I snooze fitfully for three hours. Before heading north, I swipe out the plates of the Pathfinder with a grimy Ford Escort. From a pop-up street-vendor on 47th selling knock-off designer wallets and DVDs, I purchase a second burner. This is the phone I use to call Tony.
“Jesus, Fortune, what have you done? It’s all over the news—you and The Chatterbox? What else did he admit to you?”
“I don’t have time for questions, Tony.”
“You better, because the brass has lost its shit. The PC, himself, has issued a statement. The Mayor has a presser set for later today. I swear to Christ, Hoss, this could sink enough gold bars to fill a Spanish galleon.” Tony chuckles lustily. “There are as many uniforms out looking for you as are out there looking for Purcell. Where are you?”
“Nice try, Tony, but no dice. None of this is on you; it’s my water, and I’ll carry it. My only concern, and I mean only concern, is to get Gabby and Mel back safely. I don’t care about the consequences, I don’t care about brass, and I don’t give a shit about the badge.”
“I’m with you. What do you want from me?”
“I need to know I can trust you, Tony.”
“Like the Pope.”
“On Gabby and Mel’s life?”
Without hesitation, he says, “Fucking-A!”
“Okay. About now unis are tearing apart every address and last known whereabouts of Simon Purcell, searching for Gabby and Mel; they won’t find them.”
“Why do you say?”
“Because I know where he’s taken them.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting half-asleep in the front seat of the Nissan when Tony rings back.
“Any luck?”
“Nada, zilch, no rental units, storage units, or commercial locations belonging to, or registered in the name of, Simon Purcell in the City of New York where he could be keeping them.”
“Thanks, Tony. I just needed to confirm.”
“Given his track-record, Hoss, you need to be realistic.”
“The man wants to go out in a blaze of glory, Tony. He sees me as the fuse. If I don’t put him down, he’ll put us all down together; it’s him or us. After that, he’ll keep killing. But I need a backup plan.”
“You have a backup plan? I don’t know; right now, your options seem limited to me.”
“I admit it could all go FUBAR, which is why I need you on my side.”
“I’m your backup plan?”
“Listen, if you don’t hear from me by phone by midnight, tonight, you call in the cavalry. If I do contact you and at any time during our conversation, I use the word FUBAR, you’ll know he’s got me, at which point you contact Upton. I’ve given Upton an update, he knows what to do. Got it?”
Sounding doubtful, Tony says, “And?”
“A yes or a no will do.”
A split-second of hesitation.
“Okay.”
“Good. Upton has the State Police on standby at the location and knows where to send them.” To Tony, I repeat, “If you don’t hear from me by midnight, raise the alarm. If I contact you before midnight and you hear the word FUBAR, send in the cavalry.”