Danny checked the house they had left; it was the right one. There was a porch that wrapped around the house with one end next to the driveway. Danny walked up the driveway to the garage and cased the backyard: he found a low fence that separated the property from the one behind it, giving easy access to the next street. He went back to the porch, sat down in a rocking chair, and made a few calls on his cell phone, then he played some games for a while. Finally, he checked his map again with a penlight and made note of a street corner a couple of blocks away. It was well after midnight when a car appeared from down the street and turned into the driveway.

Danny flattened himself against the side of the house, pulled out the snub-nosed .38, and waited. The car stopped at the top of the driveway, and Al and a woman got out. They were weaving slightly as they passed the nook where Danny was waiting in the shadows. He waited until they were a couple of steps past him, then he stepped behind them and fired a shot into the back of Al’s head. Then, as the girl turned toward him, he took a step forward and put one right through her forehead, leaving her no time to react or scream.

He took a moment to be sure they were both dead, then got Al’s wallet from his pocket, emptied it of a thick stack of bills, and dropped it on the walkway. He walked to the backyard, hopped the fence, and got out his cell phone.

“Capitol Cab.”

“Can you send a cab to the corner of Hollaway and Oak, please?”

“Destination?”

“Fairlawn Hotel.” That was where he had been staying, and there were always cabs there. Five minutes later, the cab showed up and drove him to the hotel. He got out of the cab and into another, asking to be taken to his hotel at the airport. The following morning he put the .38 into a brown bag, tossed it into the back of a garbage truck, took the first flight to Las Vegas, and had a good breakfast in first class.

—

On Sunday afternoon, Gene Ryan took a cab to Newark Airport and made his plane to Fort Lauderdale. At the airport he rented a car and drove to the Sea Castle Motel on the beach. He checked in, got into his bathing suit, and walked down to the beach, where a beachboy made a chaise ready for him.

Two hours later he was joined by Vinny, who relaxed on the next chaise. “Seen anything of Al?” he asked.

“Not yet,” Ryan replied. “He must have taken a later flight.”

—

Late in the afternoon Ryan showered and shaved and got into a sports jacket. He met Vinny in the bar.

“Did you hear from Al?” he asked.