“More than being a husband and father?”
“I’m those things whatever my job is,” David said.
“Oh, really?” Gray Beard made an exaggerated look around the empty parking lot. “They inside the library?”
“The Talmud says you’ve got to judge things by their ending.”
“Meaning what?”
“Say ten men stomp the shit out of a guy,” David said, “but it isn’t until the last man kicks him in the head that he dies. The Talmud says only the last man is liable for the death. The idea being that if the previous blows were enough to kill the man, they would have killed the man.”
“It’s not exactly medically sound,” Gray Beard said.
David reached behind him, grabbed one of the FedEx boxes. Shook it. “Heavy,” David said. He handed it to Gray Beard, who also shook it. “What do you think is in there?”
“Probably twenty pounds of socks,” Gray Beard said.
“Could be twenty pounds of gold coins,” David said. “Won’t know until you open it up.”
“But opening it up is the crime,” Gray Beard said.
“See?” David said. “There you go.” He took the box from Gray Beard, cracked the seal, looked inside. “When they write my obituary, it’s going to start and end with me being a gangster. Day I die, even if I’m still a rabbi, I will be a gangster. It’s beyond my control.”
Gray Beard stroked at his beard, eyes still on David. “What are you telling me?”
“How much more do you need to get out of Las Vegas, permanently?”
Gray Beard sighed. “I’m not great with saving money. I got my problems, too, hoss. They aren’t your concerns.”
“If you had to disappear,” David said. “If you had to make it work.”
“If I knew it was my last score,” Gray Beard said, “I guess I’d want to get a couple hundred thousand in cash. I got my house covered. I get on a methadone program, that would help. I’d want to leave something behind for Marvin, so he could go to culinary school.”
“I bounce,” David said, “there’s going to be an increased focus on . . . everything. Someone works backward far enough, they’ll find you. And that is my problem. I don’t leave loose threads. And you’re a loose end.” Gray Beard swallowed. They both knew what David meant. “Something else happened today.”
He told him that Rachel Savone had learned his real identity, Gray Beard listening intently. When David was done, Gray Beard took a pack of Marlboro Reds from his breast pocket, put one in his mouth but didn’t light it, just gnawed on the filter.
“That’s not good,” Gray Beard said eventually. “You think she wants protective custody?”
“I don’t know,” David said. “I’m the only fish she thinks is big enough to get her whatever it is she wants.” There was a roll of packing tape in the center console of the van, so David taped the package back up, set it on the floor.
“You gonna tell me what was in the box?” Gray Beard said.
“No,” David said. “You could testify against me.”
Gray Beard thought about that for a moment. “Piece of advice?”
“Listening.”
“Have something the government wants.”
“I’m working on that,” David said.
“Your friend,” Gray Beard said, “has been an education.”
Since showing up at the ICU, Matthew Drew had been staying with Gray Beard and his partner, Marvin. They were the only people who wouldn’t ask any questions, but David had felt obliged to let them know they were harboring an FBI agent who also happened to be wanted for murder and was being hunted by both the government and organized crime. Gray Beard had taken it all with a shrug . . . and the promise of cash when David got out.
“Help you streamline your operations?”
“Not gonna lie,” Gray Beard said with a laugh. “He’s gone most the time, though.”
“Where to?”
“He says he’s looking for your wife and cleaning out his closet,” Gray Beard said carefully. Gray Beard had delivered money to Jennifer once before, and Marvin had done recon in Chicago on Ronnie Cupertine. Though he never said a word about it, David knew Gray Beard had figured out who he really was, not that David had any idea who Gray Beard was, except that Bennie Savone had him handle medical issues off the books.
David thought for a moment. Matthew told him about the recon he’d done on the safe houses in Arizona, Oregon, and Utah. But David knew, foremost, Matthew Drew was not his friend. “You believe him? That he’s looking for my wife?”
Gray Beard shrugged. “That motherfucker is a lot of things, but he isn’t a liar. Our RV is plenty big, but his anger takes up three rooms, so I’ve got to know his moods. I bought a pop-up trailer for him. Everyone’s life got easier. Says he’ll be gone until Tuesday, he shows up Tuesday. Says he’ll buy groceries, he buys groceries. Is real respectful of my and Marvin’s privacy. So.” Gray Beard shrugged again. “Man, we’re all criminals, so who knows.”
“What’s he doing for money?”
“He’s not opposed to doing work,” Gray Beard said.
“He leaves a print or hair somewhere,” David said, “we’re all done for.”
“He’s not been doing that kind of work,” Gray Beard said. “But he would.”
“Say he finds my wife,” David said. “And I kill him. That be a problem for you?”
