My father snored loudly as Sal, Cam, and Herman watched over him, like the three wise men in retirement. I sat down and explained my plan to them, scanning their tense, lined faces for the resistance I had expected, but they proved me wrong. They had lived through Depression and World War. Herman had even survived the Bulge. There was steel in them, no matter how frail they appeared, and they were ready to avenge my father and LeVonne. They thought the bluff would work.
“Then Monday it is,” I said.
Herman folded his arms. “Why wait ‘til then? Why not now?”
“I want it to happen at the busiest time. It’s dead there on the weekends.”
“Bad choice of words,” Cam said, without mirth.
Herman nodded. “All right, Monday. We got LeVonne’s funeral on Sunday anyways.”
We fell silent a minute. Only Sal hadn’t said anything yet. His forehead had fallen into customary creases of anxiety and he’d shed his Burberry in favor of short sleeves and chalky elbows.
“You in, Mr. Livemore?” I said to him. “You said you wanted to do more lawyer stuff.”
“This ain’t exactly what I meant, Ree.”
“I know. Still, you game?”
“I don’t think this is such a good idea. You could get hurt.”
“That’s what I need you for. You three are my protection. My backup.”
“You don’t want to tell your father?”
“Are you kidding? He hates when I work late, you think he’d want me to do this?”
“How about the police?”
“I don’t think they’d go for it. Besides, we’re all we need, Sal. You know anybody who plays better poker than us?”
Cam smiled, so did Herman. Sal’s eyes lingered on my father, but he didn’t say anything.
I couldn’t wait for an answer. I picked up the hospital phone and dialed what I knew would be the motorcyclist’s answering machine. The tone was short, the kid was still retrieving his messages. I left the message laying out the bluff. This message he wouldn’t ignore, if he were the killer. I hung up the phone and Cam smiled.
“Way to go, kiddo,” he said, and Herman nodded.
Sal folded his knobby arms, still looking at my father.
“Uncle Sal?” I asked.
“I’m in,” he said after a minute. “I’m in.”
“Good.” I got up to go. “Then I’m outta here.”
“Where you goin’?”
“The Hamiltons. Let the game begin.”