Ryan began to wonder if he’d waited too long to throw away the throwaway cell phone. They’d have found Charlie’s, and his number would have been in that, and they might have traced it to the moving train before he pulled the SIM card and dumped it.

He reluctantly left the burger and began walking toward the exit where the cab stand was, still chewing. He was unarmed, not having taken anything to Florida, and he had dumped the bank guard’s Glock. He felt vulnerable.

There was a line at the cab stand, and he waited impatiently. He was almost at the front when the two men emerged from the station and began looking around. He turned his back to them and moved up one more place. He was almost into a cab when he heard somebody shout, “Hey, you!” A cab pulled up, and he dived into it. “Lincoln Tunnel!” he said to the cabbie. “I’ll direct you from there.” He looked over his shoulder and saw the two men standing in the road. One of them was writing down something, probably the cab’s plate number.

“Never mind the tunnel,” he said, “just drop me at the Port Authority bus terminal.”

“Make up your mind,” the driver muttered.

At the terminal, he found another cab. “Through the tunnel,” he said, “then take 3 West and 17 North.”

“Teterboro?”

“Near there. I’ll direct you.”

He had the driver drop him a block from his apartment house and walked the rest of the way, checking constantly for tails. He approached the building carefully but saw no threats. Once inside his apartment he called the neighborhood joint and ordered a pizza. He was still ravenous, and he unpacked and turned on the TV while he waited, sucking on a beer from the fridge.

He paid for the pizza and ate straight from the box, wolfing down two slices before he slowed down. Just when he was beginning to relax there was a hammering on his door. He put the pizza box aside and checked the peephole. UPS. He opened the door. “Mr. Ryan?”

“Yes.”

“Sign here.”

He signed; it was a pretty big box, and he kicked it inside. He had to get a knife to open the thing, and when he did, he found his suitcase inside. He set it on the coffee table and opened it. Inside was some of his cash and a note written with marker on a shirt cardboard:

You seemed like a nice guy, so I only took half. You made my year! Love, S.

Ryan was flabbergasted. He counted the banded cash, and there was a hundred thousand there. He sat down on the sofa and cried.

Chapter 54

Stone was about to leave the house to meet Dino for dinner when the phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Cantor.”

“Hey, Bob.”

“Looks like I found your guy.”

“Already? You’re kidding.”

“Why would I kid you?”