Go to the Murphys, sell them the heroin boost.
And the dumb donkeys walked right into the trap. Even Danny Ryan, the smartest of them, went for it.
Now the Irish are fucked.
Because Jardine used Vecchio’s information to obtain wire warrants on the Glocca Morra. He has them on tape discussing the heroin deal. Couple that with catching them in possession, open-and-shut case.
Thirty to life for all of them.
War over.
“And I got immunity, right?” Chris asks. “Across the board?”
“Just don’t put any more bodies in the ground,” Jardine says.
“So our arrangement is in place,” Chris says. “I mean, don’t forget.”
“Don’t you forget.”
“Hey, you’re my guy.”
They both know how it works.
One hand dirties the other.
It’s freakin’ quiet the next day.
Like one of them bad old Western movies, Danny thinks, where one of the actors says “Too quiet,” and a second later gets pincushioned with arrows.
The talk on the street is . . . well, there isn’t a lot of talk on the street, but what there is says a truckload of tools got boosted and that’s it. Even their contacts in the Providence police and state troopers don’t say anything about heroin.
Danny expected at least some drumbeats from Federal Hill. After all, Peter didn’t have six mil to lay out for the dope, it was probably fronted to him, so now he owes a shitload of money with no way to pay it back.
So Danny thought that Moretti soldiers would be on the streets, shaking everyone down for information, that cops on the Moretti payroll would be rattling cages, but so far, nothing.
Danny figured the police would be at his door, because it was a truck hijacking and Danny’s been known to participate in such activities, and he’s in a war with the Morettis to boot.
No one shows up.
It gives Liam ammunition for his argument to sell off the heroin now. “Why wait? I’ll spread it around. Here, Boston, New York, DC, even Miami.”
“Not now,” Danny says. “Let things blow over.”
They put it out too soon, everyone is going to know where it came from and who did the hijack.
“You worry too much,” Liam says.
“Yeah, I worry, Liam.”
“But that’s you, Danny,” Liam says. “You worry. Fucking Irish—always looking forward to our next defeat.”
“What’s the big hurry?” Danny asks.
“Because we got millions of dollars sitting down in the basement,” Liam says, “and the sooner we convert it to cash, the better.”
Yeah, Danny thinks, Liam likes his cash. But the last thing we need is Liam flashing a roll, going out and buying a new car, watches, jewelry for Pam. Or a freakin’ house on the beach, which would be just like him. The only thing worse than Liam with coke up his nose is Liam with money in his pocket. They both burn a hole.
People would notice and start asking questions. Like, where did Liam get money all of a sudden? They’d notice the coincidence between the hijacking and Liam playing the big shot.
It wouldn’t be good.
Especially when some of the people doing the wondering will be the Morettis and the feds, and he tells Liam this.
“So what if the Morettis connect us to the hijacking?” Liam asks. “What are they going to do? Kill us? They’re trying to do that already.”
“They’ll try to get their dope back.”
“Which is why we should move it now,” Liam says. “Don’t you want to get to California?”
“What’s this?” John asks.
Danny shoots Liam a look, like Why can’t you keep your stupid mouth shut, then he turns to John and says, “I’ve been meaning to tell you, the right moment never came up, but yeah, I’m going to use this money to move out to the West Coast. I’m thinking maybe San Diego.”
“Does Terri know about this?”
“We’ve talked about it,” Danny says. “I think the sunshine and the warmth would be good for her.”
“What about the business?” John asks.
Danny feels himself getting pissed off. “What about it?”
“Don’t you think you have responsibilities here?”
Danny looks at Liam again, like Say something.
“Dad,” Liam says, “you’ve been talking about retirement for a long time. Danny wants to go to California, I’ve been thinking about moving down to Florida—”
“Oh, you have, have you?” John’s face gets red.