The next morning, Vincent gets up early. His mother is awake, as usual. But Vincent passes on breakfast.
“I’m going downtown, Ma,” he says, “to set up things in my office. I have to order telephone lines, get a typewriter, etcetera, etcetera—lots of things to do.”
He’s rented a space in the same building as Sidney Ackerman, a real LaSalle Street office.
“Have you got money for all of that, honey?”
“We’ll see, but I gotta get going.”
As he walks out the door, Angelo and Mikey are approaching his house. They look pissed.
“What’s up?”
“Fuckhead is up in Wisconsin,” Mikey sighs. “He said that he was going to take care of things.”
“Who else? He hadn’t checked in lately, so I gave him a call.”
“What is he taking care of?”
“He learned that his uncle is meeting with some people in Wisconsin to sell his stamp collection. Once his uncle sells it and gets the money, Stanley will never see a dime. So, he plans to grab the collection before his uncle can seal the deal.”
Vincent looks at Angelo, who is really pissed. Not a good thing. “When is all this supposed to happen?”
“His uncle has a condo on Lake Geneva and is up there now. He’s supposed to meet with a buyer over the weekend. Stanley learned all of this from his mother, so now he’s up there watching and waiting to make his move.”
Vincent looks at the two of them. “And we are worried about this why exactly?”
“You kidding me? If he gets caught, he may tell his uncle everything and put the finger on us,” says Angelo.
“Okay, okay,” Vincent says, knowing Angelo is probably right. “Call him right away and tell him that he can’t pull it off alone and that we will help him. And tell him not do anything until we get up there. Do that now and make sure he believes you. I’m going downtown and will be back in about two hours.”
After Angelo and Mikey walk away, Vincent mumbles “Fuck!”
On the way downtown, he considers the situation. Something in Vincent’s streetwise mind is telling him there is something very wrong here. The collection, and maybe even the gold, was insured and maybe Jakowski got paid already. That’s not what bothers Vincent. But what if the so-called buyers are not legit? What if they are actually insurance investigators looking to see the collection and then hammer the uncle?
Vincent makes a sudden turn, tires screeching, and drives back to the Neighborhood. His first stop is St. Anthony’s Social Club, where he gets some information from Bruno. Then he sees Mikey and Angelo by the beef stand and waves them over.
“Get in,” he barks. “We are not waiting. We’re going up there now.”
“Stop by my place first, so I can tell my wife and pick something up,” Angelo says.
Vincent looks at Angelo and a message is passed between them. He nods and drives Angelo home.
On the drive to Wisconsin, Vincent gets more details from Mikey.
“When I spoke to fuckhead, he sounded kind of excited,” Mikey says. “I told him he was probably right about his uncle stiffing him. I told him he had a good idea. And after a little persuasion, he believes we want to help. He realizes he’s over his head with this, anyhow.”
Not much else is said. Mikey and Angelo exchange looks and watch Vincent who is deep in thought, planning as always.
Outside Waukegan, Vincent stops for gas and to make a phone call. He dials the number Bruno gave him. For about ten minutes he chats with an Outfit associate in Milwaukee. Vincent smiles grimly and goes back to the car.
Vincent drives for about five minutes but doesn’t get back on the highway. Instead, he stops at a public park. He sits back, leans against the driver’s door, and looks at Angelo in the front seat, then Mikey in the back.
“You guys are going to think that I have lost it but listen: I don’t think those guys who are meeting Stanley’s uncle are legit. I’m guessing they’re insurance investigators who are setting up the old guy.”
Angelo and Mikey glance at each other, then back at Vincent.
“What the fuck?” says Mikey.
“Yeah, I could be wrong but that is what I believe. I called a couple of guys up here to babysit Stanley while we do our thing.”
“And what’s our thing, Vincent?” asks Mikey.
“I don’t know,” replies Vincent. “I’m still working it out.”