The resulting explosion was severe, especially around Tony and upwards toward the ceiling, where the escaped ethylene had layered and the second bag had positioned itself. The concussion of the blast blew out all the office windows as well as the door and all the overhead lights, sparing only a lamp on the desk. Tony was consumed by the fireball. Angelo was thrown against the wall, where he sagged to a sitting position, his eardrums blown out. His hair was singed to his scalp, and he suffered some internal damage to his lungs. All the others were knocked momentarily senseless to the floor and superficially burned. A few managed to push themselves up on all fours, groaning and totally befuddled.
On the floor, Laurie and Lou were relatively spared, having been below any of the layered ethylene, although both had suffered some minor burns and mild ear damage from the severe deflagration. Laurie opened her eyes and released her grip around Lou’s middle.
“Are you all right?” she questioned. Her ears were ringing.
“What the hell happened?” Lou said.
Laurie scrambled to her feet. She pulled Lou’s arm to get him to his feet. “Let’s get out of here!” she said. “I’ll explain it later.”
Together they stepped around and over moaning people strewn about the floor. They coughed in the acrid smoke.
Beyond the blown-out door of the office, their feet crunched over shattered glass. Down the corridor of bananas, they saw a flashlight bobbing in the dark. Someone was running toward them.
Lou yanked Laurie laterally away from the office in the direction from which he’d originally come. As they huddled behind a stack of bananas, the running footfalls drew closer. Soon another one of Cerino’s thugs stood gasping at the threshold of the office. For a moment he stood there with his mouth open in amazement. Then he went to his boss’s aid. Paul was sitting on the floor in front of the desk, holding his head.
“This is our chance,” Lou whispered. He held on to Laurie as they worked their way back toward the entrance of the warehouse. The going was slow because of the dark and the fact that they wanted to stay away from the main corridor in case there were other Cerino people in the area.
It took them almost ten minutes before they could see the vague outline of the opening of the overhead door. In front of it was the black silhouette of the morgue van. It was still parked where it had been when Lou had entered.
“My car is probably gone,” Lou whispered. “Let’s see if the keys are in the van.”
They approached the van cautiously. Opening the driver’s side door, Lou felt along the steering column. His fingers hit the keys, still dangling from the ignition.
“Thank God,” he said. “They’re here. Get in!”
Laurie climbed in the passenger side. Lou was already behind the wheel.
“As soon as I start this thing,” Lou whispered urgently, “we’re out of here fast. But we might not be in the clear. There might be some shooting, so how about you going in the back and lying down.”
“Just start the van!” Laurie said.
“Come on,” Lou said. “Don’t argue.”
“You’re the one who’s arguing,” Laurie snapped. “Let’s go!”
“Nobody’s going nowhere!” a voice said to Lou’s left.
With a sinking feeling, Laurie and Lou looked out the window on Lou’s side. A number of faceless men in hats were standing in the dark. A flashlight snapped on and played over Lou’s face, then over Laurie’s. They each blinked in its glare.
“Out of the truck,” the same voice ordered. “Both of you.”
With hopes dashed, Laurie and Lou climbed back out of the van. They could not see the men for the bright light shining at them, but there seemed to be three.
“Back to the office,” the same voice commanded.
Discouraged, Laurie and Lou led the way back. Neither of them said a word. Neither wanted to think about Cerino’s fury.
The scene at the office was still chaotic. Smoke still hung heavily in the air. One of Cerino’s goons had helped his boss into the desk chair. Angelo was still sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He looked confused, and a trickle of blood was dripping down his chin from the corner of his mouth.
An additional light had been turned on, and the extent of the damage was more apparent. Laurie was surprised by the amount of charring. That old pharmacology text hadn’t been kidding: when it said ethylene was flammable it meant flammable. She and Lou were lucky not to have been injured more severely.
Laurie and Lou were given the same seats they’d occupied only minutes before. Sitting down, Laurie got a glimpse of Tony’s burned remains. She grimaced and looked away.
“My eye hurts,” Paul wailed.
Laurie closed her eyes, not wanting to think what the consequences were to be of her having ignited the ethylene.
“Someone help me,” Cerino cried.
Laurie’s eyes opened again. Something was wrong. No one was moving. The three men who’d accompanied them back to the office were ignoring Cerino. In fact they were ignoring everyone.
“What’s happening?” Laurie whispered to Lou.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Something weird is going on.”
Laurie looked up at the three men. They appeared nonchalant, picking at their nails, adjusting their ties. They hadn’t lifted a finger to help anyone. Looking in the other direction, Laurie saw the man who’d run back into the office just after she and Lou had gone out. He was sitting in a chair with his head in his hands, looking at the floor.
Laurie heard the sound of footsteps approaching. It sounded as if whoever was coming had metal taps on his heels. Out the blasted doorway, Laurie saw beams from several flashlights bobbing toward them.
Presently a rather dapper, darkly handsome man came to the blown-out door. He stopped to survey the scene. He was dressed in a dark cashmere coat over a pin-striped suit. His hair was slicked back from his forehead.
“My God, Cerino,” he said with derision. “What a mess you have made!”
Laurie looked at Cerino. Cerino didn’t answer; he didn’t even move.
“I don’t believe it,” Lou said.
Laurie’s head spun around. She looked at Lou and saw the shock registered on his face. “What’s happening?” she asked.
“I knew something weird was going on,” Lou said.
“What?” Laurie demanded.
“It’s Vinnie Dominick,” Lou said.
“Who’s Vinnie Dominick?” Laurie asked.
Vinnie shook his head, surveying what was left of Tony, then walked over to Lou. “Detective Soldano,” Vinnie said. “How convenient that you’re here.” He pulled a cellular phone from his coat pocket and handed it to the detective. “I imagine you’d like to contact your colleagues to see if they’d be so good as to come over here. I’m sure the D.A. would like to have a long talk with Paul Cerino.”
In the background Laurie was aware of the three men who had been lounging around before Vinnie Dominick arrived. They were now going around the room collecting guns.
One of them brought Lou’s over to Vinnie, having retrieved it from Angelo. Vinnie proceeded to give it back to Lou.
In disbelief Lou looked down at the phone in one hand and his gun in the other.
“Come on, Lou,” Vinnie said. “Make your call. Unfortunately I’ve got another appointment, so I can’t be around when the men in blue arrive. Besides I’m kind of a shy sort of guy and I wouldn’t feel comfortable with all the acclaim the city would want to throw my way for saving the day. Obviously you know what Mr. Cerino has been up to, so you don’t need my help there. But if you don’t, don’t hesitate to give me a call. You know how to get ahold of me, I’m sure.”
Vinnie started for the door, motioning for his men to follow him. As he passed Angelo he turned back to Lou. “You’d better call an ambulance for Angelo here,” he said. “He doesn’t look so good.” Then, looking down at Tony, he added: “The mortuary van out there will be fine for this dog turd.” With that, he left.