I HEARD the slug muffle the phone with his greasy hand. "The guy wants Don Julio."
"I'm here," he snapped into the phone.
"She says she'll hand it over to me. Out in the open. She wants to see it happen."
"What's that mean?"
"It means you come. Alone. I come. Alone. She drives up. Hands me what you want while you watch. Goes back to her car. I give you the letter for the present you have for her. You wait while I take it over to her. I get in my car and we all go home."
"My boys won't like me going anywhere alone."
"You're the boss, right? Who cares what they like."
"All right. Where?"
"You know her. Queens it's got to be. You're coming from Shea Stadium, okay? On the Grand Central. Just before La Guardia, there's a gas station. You pull over there, where there's a railing. You can park the car, walk down to the water. Where guys fish in the summertime. Got it?"
"Yeah."
"She says tomorrow. Eleven o'clock in the morning. You park all the way to the right. She'll be there, parked to the left. I pull in between you. Get it done."
"I'll be there."
I called Strega. Told her what tomorrow was going to be.