Trusting Doug to look after the baby, she changes five dollars into coins and gets the phone numbers from directory assistance for the New York State Police and the Clinton County sheriff’s office and the appropriate branch of the federal Drug Enforcement Agency, which turns out to be in Burlington, Vermont.
It’s best to call all three, she’s decided, because knowing Bert’s penchant for paying people off he may have bribed one or another of them and it only makes sense to cover all the bases. At least one of them is bound to take action.
She tells each of them more or less the same thing:
“Never mind who I am. Take this down. Got your pencil? Ready? There’s an unregistered private landing field on federal land two miles east of Albert LaCasse’s house on the Fort Keene road. An airplane will land there at midnight tomorrow to deliver several million dollars’ worth of narcotics. Albert LaCasse and his men will be there to accept the delivery personally, and you can catch them red-handed. You’re welcome and good night.”
It’s only when she’s on her way back to the truck that she realizes how it can go wrong: if any of those law enforcement agencies is in Bert’s pocket they’ll warn him off in advance and he’ll simply reschedule the delivery for another time and place. Her effort will have gone for nothing.
But it’s worth the try.