“All right, all right,” Clyde looked in the rear view mirror at Hoyt, who was seated on the passenger side. He pulled off the I-278 just before hitting the Belt Parkway and parked on a dark street so Hoyt could clamber out. They all lit cigarettes as Hoyt walked around to the rear of the vehicle and surreptitiously stuck his finger down his throat. He knew that as soon as the team finished their smokes, there would be no more stopping them.
It was all that Sabrina could have asked for. She circled the block where Brighton 11th Street merged with Cass Place at the industrial complex, and spotted the designated warehouse mentioned on the recording. She realized the gangsters had parked their cars out of view at a neighboring dock so the detectives would not be unduly suspicious. She parked
