CHAPTER 48

After sitting silently in Servito’s Corvette for almost thirty minutes, Allison’s curiosity got the better of him. “What’s this big meeting all about?” he asked.

Servito flashed an evil smile. “Like I told you before—when you close up shop, you have to let your employees go.”

“Jim, you can’t tell me it’s necessary to go all the way to Fort Erie at night just to fire some employees. Level with me. What are we really going to do?”

“Get rid of some loose ends. There are three of them, and they’re all going to be at the meeting.”

“Who?”

“Lasker, Bushing, and Langston. They all know too much.”

Allison swallowed dryly. “You going to do them, too?”

“Yup.”

“Jesus! Why the hell do you need to do this if we’re gonna disappear to Venezuela?”

“Because I want my wife and King to fry in hell—I want to make sure there’s nobody around to clear them when I’m gone.”

“So how are you gonna do it?”

“You see the red blanket on the back seat?”

Allison turned and glanced at the blanket. He nodded. “There’s a briefcase under it. It’s packed with enough dynamite and gasoline to solve our problem. It’s also rigged with a timer. Just before we go in, I’m going to set the timer for eleven-fifteen. I’m going to take the briefcase with me and set it under the table. At five after eleven, I want you to stand up and say you forgot to phone the office, and that you’ll do it from the secretary’s phone. At ten after eleven, I want you to run back into Lasker’s office and tell me there’s an urgent call from my wife. Say it’s about my son. Tell me he’s been hurt bad. Then we’ll both leave.” Servito grinned. “The meeting will end with a bang.”

Allison rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Isn’t that a little extreme?”

Servito pounded his fist on the steering wheel and glared at Allison. “Fucking right it’s extreme. You gotta be extreme if you wanna live happily ever after in paradise. If we don’t waste these guys before we go, pretty soon the feds are gonna be all over them like a tent. Sure as hell at least one of them is gonna start singing. Now we don’t want that to happen, do we?”

Allison shrugged his shoulders in resignation. “What about Martin and Sadowski and Sarnos? You gonna let them go too?”

Servito chuckled. “Lanotti did Sadowski and Sarnos last night and Martin’s already on ice.”

Servito’s Corvette raced past the opened gate of the chain-link fence surrounding the property of Amerada Tank Lines and skidded to a stop at the Amerada head office. He reached for his briefcase, set the timer for 11:15 p.m., and then turned to Allison. “Don’t screw up, Jerry,” he warned. “We have got to be out of there and at least a hundred yards away when this thing blows.”

Servito immediately took control when he and Allison entered Lasker’s inner office. He exuded charm while shaking hands with Bushing and Lasker, and then grabbed Allison’s arm and pulled him in Langston’s direction. “Earle, I don’t think you’ve met Jerry Allison. Jerry’s a business associate of mine.”

Langston, forcing a smile, extended his frail hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“My pleasure,” Allison said with a squeamish smile.

“Gentlemen, we’ll start as soon as everyone’s seated,” Servito announced, pointing to the large wooden table in the center of the office. He sat as close as possible to his three intended victims, and then shoved his briefcase as far as he could in front of his feet. Quickly glancing around the room, he saw that it was small and cramped, just as he had remembered. He looked at his watch. It was 11:04 p.m.

“Gentlemen, I called this meeting tonight because we have some major problems to discuss. The game has changed. It was beautiful when we didn’t have to spend all of our time worrying about the feds. Now they’re around us like flies. We can’t make a move without bumping into them. We need to develop new ways of avoiding the heat, new ways of—”

Allison stood abruptly. “Excuse me, Jim. I gotta call the office. I forgot to do it before we came in here.”

Servito nodded approval, and then turned to Lasker. “Dave, do you mind if he uses Trish’s phone?”

Lasker nodded. “No problem. Go ahead.”

Allison headed for the door.

Delighted with Allison’s performance, Servito continued his time-consuming rhetoric until the door to the inner office burst open at 11:09 and Allison rushed in. “Jim, I’m sorry to interrupt. You better call your wife… your son’s been hurt bad.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Servito said, feigning a frown of sincere concern. He hurried from the office.

Allison followed and closed the door behind him. Servito had already started the engine by the time he reached the right door of the Corvette.

“Get your fat ass in here!” Servito shouted. “We’ve got less than a minute!”

While Allison struggled to squeeze into the car, Servito jerked the car into reverse, knocking him back into the seat and swinging the handle of the opened door out of his reach. Allison leaned out toward the door as Servito pushed the gearshift into drive and slammed the accelerator to the floor. The forward momentum caused the door on Allison’s side to reverse direction, and the window slammed against his head.

“Jesus, Jim!” Allison protested. “Wait ‘til I’m in the Goddamned car!”

“We’re outta’ time, baby!” Servito shouted as he raced the car through the open gate and onto the highway. Within seconds, the Corvette was over two hundred yards from the metal shack and continuing to accelerate.

Allison glanced at his watch. It was exactly 11:15 p.m. He turned his head to look through the rear window, and the night sky lit up as if the sun had suddenly reappeared. The sound of the explosion reached the car a fraction of a second later.

Servito glanced at his rear-view mirror and saw a brilliant orange and yellow fireball rising above the tree line. He looked at Allison and grinned. “Guess they all got a real bang out of that meeting, Jerry baby!” he shouted, laughing hysterically.

“What if somebody survives?” Allison asked.

“Nobody survived that sucker!” Servito scoffed. “We just killed three birds with one stone, and them birds ain’t gonna sing no more.”

Servito drove directly to the parking lot behind the Airport Hilton and parked beside the limousine. “Take the limo to the Holiday Inn,” he ordered, pointing to the long, white car. “I’ll call you at seven tomorrow morning.”

“Why don’t we just stay here together?”

“Because I don’t want anyone to see us together.”

Allison had begun to open the driver’s side door when Servito stopped him. “Don’t run away. I’m not finished.” He handed a small piece of paper to Allison. “I want you to memorize this address, and then burn it.”

Allison stared at the paper. “What the hell is this?”

“My house in Caracas.”

“Why are you giving it to me? We’re going together tomorrow, aren’t we?”

“Sure, but I want you to have it in case you miss the flight. I’m going to stick around the farm until one tomorrow afternoon. If you aren’t there by then, I’m flying without you.”

“You mean you want me to get to Venezuela by myself. How the hell am I gonna do that?”

“You’ll have enough money to fly around the world at least twenty times by the time you finish your rounds tomorrow. And here—you’ll need this if you do have to travel alone.” Servito handed Allison a fake passport, complete with a photograph of Allison. The name “John Walter Smith” was neatly printed below the signature line at the bottom of the photograph.

Allison examined the passport. He chuckled.

“What the hell’s so funny?”

“You’re beautiful. You think of everything.”

“It’s a good thing I do, asshole! Before you put that passport in your pocket, I want you to sign it with John Smith’s signature.” Servito handed a pen to Allison. “I’ll call you at seven to make sure you’re awake. Then I want you to do the rounds. You should be able to collect at least two hundred grand. Head for the farm when you’re finished, and be quick about it. I’m taking off at one—with or without you.”