“Thanks,” Vito replied. “My old man designed it before the Genoveses got to him on the bocce court at the coffeehouse.”

“Sorry about that,” Stone said.

Vito shrugged. “It’s our game,” he said. “Anyway, Trini comes down the center aisle, you hear the thing about the price of salami, and you two come around the shelves into the aisle behind Trini. You’re carryin’?”

They nodded.

“Don’t shoot nobody, okay? Except Trini, if you have to.”

They shook their heads.

“There’ll be a man up in my office with a shotgun. Dino and Gino are carryin’; Trini’s bracketed.” He looked at Holly. “You got cuffs?”

She nodded. “Three pair.”

“You frisk him and cuff him, then we hustle him over to the stairs.” He nodded to his right, where a door led to stairs to the basement.

Stone didn’t want to think about the basement. “Then what?”

“Then we talk.”

“What’s to talk about?” Holly asked.

Dino held up a hand. “You’ll talk.”

Holly shrugged. “We’ll talk.” She shot a glance at Stone that meant she didn’t like this.

Stone shook his head slightly; this was no time to argue.

“Is the truck real?” Holly asked.

“What, real?” Vito asked. “You never seen a truck?”

“I mean, does it really have the hidden compartment?”

“Comes in handy from time to time,” Vito replied. Then he looked at Dino. “You already forgot this, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dino said.

“Anybody hungry?” He took a tray of sliced salami and olives from under the counter. “We got free samples.”

Everybody took something to be polite, except Stone, who took it because he was hungry.

“Okay, spread out, and let’s do this,” Vito said.

Dino hopped over the counter and took up his position. Stone and Holly moved to where they had been told. They couldn’t see the store entrance.

“What’s your plan?” Stone asked.

“What Vito said,” Holly replied.

“I mean after we’ve taken him. What are you going to do with him?”

“I haven’t given it much thought,” she said, taking the Sig Pro from her purse and pumping a round into the chamber.

“It’s time you did,” Stone said. “In a few minutes you’re going to have a dangerous criminal on your hands, and you’d better figure out how you’re going to handle him.”

“I’m going to take him home,” she said.

“How?”

“Airlines?”

“Think about how much trouble Trini could make on an airplane with a couple of hundred civilians watching. Then you’ve got to get him to Orchid Beach.”

“We’ll get a flight to Palm Beach, and I’ll have a squad car meet us.”

“I’ve got a better idea.”

“What?”

“I know a guy out at Teterboro who can produce a jet charter on demand—something light, like a Lear or a CitationJet.”

“What’s it going to cost?”

“A guess? Eight, ten thousand.”