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"She didn't know anything about it," Lanza said. "They tricked her. Can they do that?"
"The little Mexican said, quote, Can I have the suitcase Vito brought? end quote, and she gave it to him. No illegal search and seizure, if that's what you're asking."
"Sonsofbitches!"
"They will not prosecute your mother if you cooperate."
"Fuck 'em!"
"You want your mother to ride downtown to Central Detention? You got the money to make her bail? You got ten thousand dollars to pay a bondsman? And that's what the bail will be for that much cocaine. Or do you want her to spend the next six months waiting for her trial in the House of Detention?"
"Why the fuck should I trust them after what they did to my mother?"
"You're not trusting them. You're trusting me.I'm the assistant DA. You cooperate, and I'll have your mother out of here in ten minutes. I'll even see she gets home safe."
"Okay, okay," Vito said. He tried to put his right hand to his eyes to stem the tears that were starting, but it was held fast by handcuffs. He put his left hand to his eyes.
Sal handed Vito a handkerchief.
"Take a minute," Sal said. "Then we'll get a steno in here."
****
At 8:45 A.M. Marion Claude Wheatley finished his breakfast of poached eggs on toast and milk, left a fifty-cent tip under his plate in the dining room of the Divine Lorraine Hotel, and rode the elevator up to his room.
He unlocked the closet, and took AWOL bag #4 of the three remaining AWOL bags-another one withSouvenir of Asbury Park, N.J. airbrushed on its sides-from the closet and locked the closet door again.
He was pleased that he had had the foresight to prepare all of the AWOL bags at once. Now all he had to do was take them from the closet as he began the delivery process.
He looked around the room, and, although he really didn't think it would do any good, walked to the Bible on the desk and read Haggai 2:17 again, seeking insight.
"I smote you with blasting and with mildew and with hail in all the labours of your hands; yet ye turned not to me, saith the Lord," made no more sense now than it ever had.
Marion picked up AWOL bag #4 and left his room, carefully locking the door after him, and went down in the elevator to the lobby.
He left his key with the colored lady behind the desk. He had learned that her name was Sister Fortitude, and he used it now.
"It looks, praise the Lord, as if we're going to have another fine day, doesn't it, Sister Fortitude?"
"Yes, it does," Sister Fortitude said.
She doesn't seem very friendly, Marion thought. I wonder if that is because I'm not colored? Or am I just imagining it?
Marion walked out onto North Broad Street and crossed it, and walked up half a block to the little fast-food place he'd found where he could get a cup of coffee and a Danish pastry to begin the day, and went in.
Sister Fortitude walked from behind the desk and went and stood by the door beside the revolving door and watched as Marion took a seat at the counter and ordered his coffee.
I knew there was something about that man, she thought.
She watched until Marion had finished a second cup of coffee and left the restaurant and walked, north, out of sight.
Then she went to the elevator and went up to Marion's room and unlocked the door and went inside. She knew what the room should contain, in terms of hotel property, and a quick look showed nothing missing.
But Sister Fortitude, who had read several magazine articles about how professional hotel thieves operated, knew that did not mean that he hadn't stolen whatever he was stealing from another room.
There was nothing in the closet that the white man could steal but wire hangers, but Sister Fortitude decided to check it anyway. When she found that it was locked, her suspicions grew. She went into the adjacent room, took the key from that closet door, and carried it back to Marion's room. It didn't work.
Sister Fortitude had to get, and try, four different closet keys from four different rooms before one operated the lock in the white man's room.
