 It was the most uncomfortable boat ride I'd taken in years. Shrimp put the gun back in his pocket, but kept it pointed toward me. The ferry finally returned to the New York side, and we got off. Then we drove back to Front Street and parked beside the warehouse. Okay, Diamond, in the back door. Well, stop waving the gun back and forth, Shrimp. You'll wear yourself out. No cracks. Go on, open the door.