At a book signing near Baltimore, a man familiar with the area told me that the airstrip Frank and I couldn’t find had been up the road where there is now a shopping mall with a Gap and an auto dealership. That was the airstrip where Frank had delivered a duffel bag filled with high-powered rifles to a Genovese man shortly before “Dallas.” It was great to verify that we had been in the right vicinity after nearly forty years had elapsed since Frank’s 1963 delivery.
