Helen and I moved back against the wall, getting out of their way. Through the barred gate, looking toward the hillside, I could see the wind pushing at the tree branches. I craned my neck, looking up with uneasiness. The sky had clouded over completely, dark forms massing above us. The weather here was changeable, where in California it seemed fixed and monotonous. I couldn't imagine where this situation was heading, and I was torn between dread and some dim hope that in the end everything would turn out all right. Ray and Gilbert would split the money, shake hands, and go about their business, freeing me to go about mine. Laura would leave Gilbert. Maybe she'd spend some time with her father and her grandmother before the three parted company. Ray would probably remain with his mother while she had her eye surgery, unless he was caught and sent back to prison first.

I checked my watch. It was only 10:15 in the morning. If I managed to catch an early afternoon flight, I might get home in time for dinner. I'd missed most of the prewedding festivities. Tomorrow night, Wednesday, the night before the wedding, William and "the boys" had elected to go bowling, while Nell, Klotilde, and I would probably have supper up at Rosie's. She swore there was no need for a rehearsal dinner. "So what's to rehearse? We're going to stand side by side and repeat what the judge tells us." Nell hadn't had a chance to do the final adjustments on my bridesmaid's muumuu, but how much fitting could it need?

The pounding in the mausoleum took on a repetitious rhythm. I could hear a groundsman using a leaf blower somewhere in the distance. No cars passed along the road that rimmed us. The next thing I knew, Ray, Gilbert, and Laura were dragging canvas bags out of the building and down the steps. Helen and I followed, standing by while Ray upended one of the sacks and toppled the contents out onto the asphalt. Ray was saying, "The guy's a genius. Who the hell would have thought of this? I wish he were here. I wish he could have seen this. Look at that. Jesus, is that beautiful?"

What had tumbled onto the pavement was a hodgepodge of U.S. and foreign currency, jewelry, silver flatware and hollowware, stock certificates, coin silver, Confederate notes, bearer bonds, unidentified legal documents, coins, proof sets, stamps, and gold and silver dollars. The hillock of valuables was nearly as high as my knee, and six other canvas sacks were as crammed full as this had been. Even Helen, with her poor eyes, seemed to sense the enormity of the find. A rain spot appeared on the pavement nearby, followed by a second and a third, at wide intervals. Ray looked up with surprise, holding a hand out. "Let's get going," he said.

Laura refilled the one sack while Ray and Gilbert dragged the others to the trunk of the car and hoisted them in. When the last sack had been added, Ray slammed the trunk down. We were all in the process of getting into the car when I caught sight of Gilbert. For a moment, I thought he was pausing to tuck his shirt in, but I realized what he was reaching for was the gun. Ray saw my face and glanced back at Gilbert, who stood now, feet planted, the Colt in his hand. Laura gripped Helen's arm, the two of them immobilized. I saw Laura lean down and murmur something to her grandmother, warning her what was happening since the old woman couldn't see that well.

Gilbert was watching Ray with amusement, as if the rest of us weren't present. "I hate to tell you this, Ray babe, but your pal Johnny was a stone killer."

Ray stared at him. "Really."

"He put out a contract on Darrell McDermid and had him offed."

Ray seemed to frown. "I thought Darrell died in an accident."

"It wasn't an accident. The kid was smoked. Johnny paid a guy big money to make sure Darrell went down."

"Why? Because he ratted us out to the cops?"

"That's what Johnny said."

"So who did him?"

"Me. Kid was all tore up about his brother anyway, so I put him out of his misery."

Ray thought about it briefly and then shrugged. "So? I can live with that. Served him right. The fuck deserved what he got."

"Yeah, except Darrell wasn't guilty. Darrell never did a thing. Someone told Johnny a big fat fib," Gilbert said with mock regret. "It was me told the cops. I can't believe you guys never figured that out."

"You were the snitch?"

"I'm afraid so," he said. "I mean, let's face it. I'm a rat-fuck. I'm worthless. It's like that old joke about the guy saves a snake and then gets bit to death. He's all, 'Hey, why'd you do that when I saved your life?' And the snake goes, 'Listen, buddy, you knew I was a viper the first time you picked me up.'"