Jack peeled out of the parking lot and headed for the bright lights of downtown Lowell.
“Well,” I said, “That was a fun weekend. Thanks, pard.”
“Not at all,” he said. “Maybe we can do it again next year.”
Leta was sniffling from the backseat. “One minute he was standing there, and the next, he was on the floor,” she said, voice wavering. “Poor Freddie. He came to our house for dinner just last week.”
“He was also the one who killed your husband,” I reminded her.
“Yeah, I know,” she said. “And I hope he rots in hell for that, the rotten bastard. But it’s still all so sad. And what is his poor wife going to do now?”
I glanced at Jackie, who shook his head. He knew better than to try to introduce logic into the midst of a woman’s emotional state.
“We’ll go over to my house,” Jackie said. “Get a drink, regroup, decide what to do next.”
“Damn,” I said. “Bennie still has my cell phone.”
“Here,” he said, opening the compartment that separated the car seats. “Use mine.”
I called Angela and told her we were still alive.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“Ummm, I’ll get back to you on that,” I said.
“Hacker!” she screeched. “I gotta file a story in one hour. You cannot hold back on me now! What the hell happened?”
“A bit of heck broke loose,” I confessed. “But we all still have all ten fingers and toes. We’re heading over to Jackie’s place.” I gave her the number. “Call me there in about 30 minutes.”
I hung up. I wasn’t ready to talk to Mary Jane yet. But she might be worried. I sighed and decided to wait a bit.
“Pards,” I said to Jackie, “We’ve got to decide how to handle this. We both have a story to get out, but we don’t want to get a visit from Bennie.”
“Or Rufus,” Jackie nodded.
“Exactly. “
“But you’ve got to get Ted out of jail,” Leta piped in from the backseat. “I told you he didn’t do it. We should go tell the cops everything and get him out tonight.”
I shook my head. “Not a great idea,” I said. “That would make us eyewitnesses to a Mob murder, and there’s three things that don’t last long: dogs that chase cars, pros putting for pars and eyewitnesses to Mob hits.” Jackie laughed.
Leta said “huh?”
“Slightly abridged Lee Trevino quote,” I said. “But it’s better for all of us to try and keep tonight’s fun and games to ourselves. “
“So we all heard and saw Fred Adamek confess to killing Vitus and you guys can’t run that in the newspaper?” Leta said. “I can’t believe this!”
“I didn’t say that,” I said. “We just have to figure out a way to run the story without involving any of us. After all, I was supposed to be in Endicott, New York this weekend covering a stupid golf tournament.”
“Which is worse?” Jackie mused aloud. “Having the Mob trying to kill you or having your boss mad at you?”
“Depends,” I said. “If he’s got coffee and doughnuts, Frankie’s usually in a passable mood.”
We pulled into Jackie’s riverside home. The phone was ringing as Jackie let us in. He answered and held the receiver out to me.
“Okay, whaddya got?” Angela demanded.
“Here’s the deal,” I said. “We found out who the murderer was. It ties back into the financial scam at the Shuttlecock Club. But you can’t run the second part yet.”
“How come?” Angela demanded, fire in her voice.
“Because if you do, me and Jackie and Mrs. Papageorge here might have to enter the witness protection program,” I said. “If we make it that far.”
“So?” she said.
“I can feel the love,” I said, “But that’s the deal. Part one today, part two later.”
“How much later?” she asked.
I thought of Rene Lemere’s upcoming meeting with Carmine Spoleto. “Maybe as early as tomorrow,” I said. “In fact, I can give you some pretty good leads tomorrow that might get you the rest of the story.”
I heard here drumming her pencil as she thought about it.
“OK,” she said finally. “Tell me.”
So I did.