Sarah - We're Being Followed

From last time ...

They both looked at Mackey, who had a great big grin on his face. Then Sarah remembered what she heard as she walked toward the Motel when they first arrived.

"Alphonse??? Really?"

And now ...

There was a timid, tentative knock on the door, and then it opened slightly. Prospero Lopez stuck his head in the the door.

"Senor Vito? Patron?"

"Yes, Lopez, come in. Come in. What's on your mind?"

"Oh, eet ees nothing, Senor. But some of the men, they say we are being followed, Senor."

"Followed? I don't understand."

"When we go to make out collections, Senor. Young men follow us."

"Police? Policia?"

"No, Senor. Indios. We think they come from the Reservation."

Vito sat for a moment and considered what he had just been told. Suddenly, this whole thing with the assassination of his men made a little sense. His men were being followed, and not by the police. Someone was following them - most probably to pick out their schedules, their routines. They probably were looking for the places where his men were most vulnerable to attack - and where the attackers had the best chance of avoiding detection. There must be a whole group of people after him and his men. And this made one aspect of the mystery even deeper. Who the hell cared enough about The Kid to have a whole organization going after his men? The Kid was HATED. FEARED. He was CRAZY. Nobody liked him. So who the hell was coming after him now?

"Lopez, I'm going to write down a list of names. I want you to contact each of these men and tell them I want to see them. Here. In my office. Today. This afternoon, in fact. 3 o'clock. And Lopez? NO ONE else. Tell no one else. Just them. And Lopez? I want to know who's sending these 'Indios' to follow us. And I want to know NOW."

"Si. Si, Patron. But how?"

"I don't care how, Lopez. But I want to know. Now go."

"Si. Si Patron."

After Lopez left the room, Giamatti sat in the big chair, behind the big desk, and brooded. There may be a way to stop all this. If I can figure out where they might strike, perhaps we can surprise them with a little reception. They think they're so smart. Well. I'm just as smart as they are. It's time I let them know that.

And a slow, sly smile crossed his face.