Chapter 6: The Man on the Phone
It took Leo two days.
The man's name was Priest.
Not a real name — a name he'd been called so long it had replaced the original.
He was forty, heavyset, worked informal security for three different operations in the district, and was known for being available to whoever paid him most recently.
Leo found him through Caruso, who found him through a bartender, who found him through a phone number written on the back of a delivery receipt at a warehouse two blocks from Garfield Street.
The chain took forty hours and cost Caruso a favor he'd been holding for two years.
Leo called Dante from a payphone outside a laundromat.
"His name is Priest.
He's not Javier's regular crew.
He was hired for one job — to watch the building and report anyone who came or left."
"Who hired him?"
"He says Javier.
But Caruso thinks he's lying about the chain.
Priest doesn't deal directly with someone at Javier's level.
There's a layer between them."
Dante was quiet for a moment.
"Can Caruso get me a meeting?"
"Already arranged.
Tonight.
Nine o'clock.
There's a diner on Clement Street.
Priest will be in the back booth."
---
Dante went alone.
Priest was already there when Dante arrived — coffee in front of him, both hands visible on the table, the posture of a man who had been told very clearly to cooperate and had decided that was the smarter choice.
Dante sat down across from him and didn't order anything.
"You saw my son," Dante said.
Priest nodded once.
"You called someone."
Another nod.
"Who?"
Priest looked at the table.
"I was told not to say."
"I know what you were told." Dante leaned forward slightly.
"I'm telling you something different."
Priest looked up.
He studied Dante's face for a long moment.
Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find it — or decide it didn't matter either way.
"The call went to a man named Calloway," Priest said.
"He runs the port authority review.
The one that's been going on since last spring."
Dante sat back.
"Calloway isn't a civilian," Priest continued.
"He's been coordinating with Javier for six months.
Maybe longer.
Javier feeds him documentation.
Calloway shapes the official record.
When the review concludes — " Priest stopped.
"When it concludes," Dante said.
"You're the target.
You specifically.
The report names you as the primary figure in a money movement operation tied to three properties.
Two of which you don't own."
"But the documents say I do."
"The documents say you do."
---
Dante was quiet for a moment.
Outside the diner window, a bus went past.
Its headlights swept briefly across the table between them.
"Why are you telling me this?" Dante asked.
Priest wrapped both hands around his coffee cup.
"Because Calloway told Javier that once the report is filed, anyone connected to the operation becomes a loose end.
He used that exact phrase." Priest looked up.
"I've been connected to this building for six weeks.
I'm not interested in being a loose end."
"So you want protection."
"I want out.
There's a difference."
Dante studied him.
"If I can verify what you've told me — the connection between Javier and Calloway — what proof do you have?"
Priest reached into his jacket and placed a small folded envelope on the table.
"Three weeks ago, Calloway met Javier at a restaurant on Harbor Street.
I was outside.
I was told to watch for anyone following Javier." He nodded at the envelope.
"I watched for that.
But I also watched them."
Dante opened the envelope.
Inside were four photographs — clearer and closer than the ones Javier had taken of Dante.
Calloway and Javier, seated together.
Documents on the table between them.
Calloway's hand on a folder that had a government seal on its cover.
Dante set the photographs down.
"You took these yourself," he said.
"Insurance," Priest said.
"In case it went the way it's going."
Dante looked at the photographs for another moment.
Then he folded the envelope closed and put it in his jacket pocket.
"Stay in the city," he said.
"Don't contact Javier.
Don't contact Calloway." He stood up.
"Someone will reach you in forty-eight hours."
Priest nodded.
May you like
He looked like a man who had just set down something very heavy.
Dante walked out of the diner without looking back.
