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Runner-up 2

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Carmen stuffed Falco’s envelope into her knockoff Gucci bag and headed for the door. She’d already crammed some fresh undies, a couple of blouses and a pair of drawstring pants into a small suitcase in case she wasn’t coming back. As she got to the door she stopped short. She realized she’d never even looked inside the package to see what she was going to give Lopez. Maybe it was a recipe for mulligan stew.

Carmen took out the envelope and broke the seal with a nail file. She slid out six or seven grainy 8-by-10 photos, along with several pages of what looked like some kind of report. Vincent Palmieri was depicted in nicely focused telephoto shots with several men in what clearly had to be a drug transaction. Carmen had never seen any of them before.

Helpfully, Tony had included a description of all the players and a detailed account of Palmieri’s activities, including times, dates and places, all neatly typed in single-spaced Times New Roman. It was the real deal, all right. Carmen thought it all had to do with extortion and some judge. She shoved everything back in the envelope and blew out the door.

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Back at Club Falco, Bonner was stunned at the latest revelations and thoroughly confused.

“So, this was all about getting some drug dealer in Mexico? What does this happy little get-together have to do with that? You already had Palmieri in jail for RICO. What’s an extortion charge gonna do for you?”

Ernesto wasn’t sure how much to divulge. But this crop of turnips knew too much already.

“Yes, this is ultimately about the drug cartel. But we haven’t been able to turn anyone high enough to even get close to Marenco. When Palmieri went down on the racketeering beef, we figured we had a shot at him. But before we moved on him, his attorney got the case up on appeal.”

“Let me guess,” Bonner put in. “That’s where Judge Quincy Palmer’s little . . . dalliance comes in. Palmer’s gotta be the appellate court judge hearing Palmieri’s appeal, right?”

“Bingo. As long as Palmieri thought he’d have the judge in his pocket, there was no chance he’d flip for us.”

Genie picked up the thread. “So you had to derail his little scam. And I’m guessing the new extortion charges would only add weight to your leverage.”

Ernesto was starting to think maybe he’d underestimated these people. “That’s right. But now Palmieri appears to be in the wind. And with his two thugs eliminated, there’s no chance he’ll show now.”

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Suddenly Evelyn came alive. “Hermann!” She threw down her sawed-off shotgun and rushed out the door onto the lawn. As she got to Hauser she could see that he was bleeding badly from a wound in his shoulder.

He whispered faintly, “Where’s the ambulance? Why hasn’t anyone called an ambulance?”

Evelyn stormed back inside the house and demanded of Ernesto, “Get a bloody ambulance here now or I’ll pick up that shotgun and blow your damn head off. Palmieri’s not coming.”

Former FBI agent Nick Boone is a “treasure seeker.”

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