I asked, "How's Anna?"

"She's okay. She's with her crazy sister in Brooklyn."

"Marie? The one who's married to Sally Da-da?"

He looked at me and nodded.

I said, "You know the Feds think it was your brother-in-law."

He shrugged.

I went on, "He's in charge now. Right?"

"In charge of what?"

"The empire."

He laughed. "Empire? I don't know about no empire." "You better know, Frank, or you'll wake up one morning and nobody's going to be outside with M-16s. It'll just be you and your canes and Sally Da-da paying a call. Capisce?"

He smiled. "Listen to you. You sound like fucking Mancuso."

"The papers said you were cooperating."

He snorted. "More bullshit. More Ferragamo bullshit, trying to make me look like a rat. The prick still wants me dead."

In truth, I hadn't given much credence to the possibility that Frank Bellarosa was now working for Alphonse Ferragamo. I said, "Look, Frank, I'm not your attorney anymore according to Jack Weinstein, but if I were, I'd advise you to cooperate with the government. I assume you're at least contemplating that, or you wouldn't be surrounded by FBI."

He played with the crook of his cane for a while, and he looked like an old man, I thought. He said, "I'm being protected because I'm a witness to a killing. Vinnie's killing. Just like you. You know? And I'm the target of organized crime." He smiled.

I said, "Frank, you don't owe any loyalty to people who tried to kill you. This is your last chance to stay out of jail, to stay alive, and to go someplace with Anna and start over."

He looked at me for a full minute, then asked, "What's it to you?" Good question. I replied, "Maybe I care about Anna. Maybe I care about justice." I added, "I'm a citizen."

"Yeah? Well, let me tell you something, Mr Citizen. Frank Bellarosa doesn't talk to the Feds."

"Your own people tried to kill you, Frank." '

"That was a misunderstanding. You know how that happened. Fucking Ferragamo set me up. But I got it all straightened out now with my people." "Do you? Then go take a ride in the country with Sally Da-da."

"Hey, Counsellor, you don't know anything about this." "I know I saw the business end of two double-barrelled shotguns. I saw Vinnie's head splash open like a pumpkin, and I saw you do a backflip through the window."

He smiled. "You see why I pay my lawyers so much?" Speaking of which, I hadn't seen a nickel from him so far, but I wasn't going to bring it up. I did say, however, "I'd like you to explain to me why I was fired." He shrugged. "I don't know. Lots of reasons. What did Jack tell you?"

"Not much. He just said I caught a break and I should be thrilled. This is true. He also said he would call me as your alibi witness if you wind up standing trial for murder. That is not so thrilling."

"Yeah. Well, we'll see." He added, "The Feds don't like you. So I did them a little favour and let you go."

That's interesting. And what favour are they doing you in return?" He didn't reply, but said, "That don't mean we can't still be friends. In fact, we're better off as just friends and neighbours. Right?"

"I suppose. Am I still an honorary Italian?"

He laughed. "Sure. Hey, better yet, I'm making you an honorary Napoletano. You know why? Because you stood there and flipped that guy the bird when he was thinking about putting you away."

How in the name of God could he know that? But I knew better than to ask. Bellarosa was getting himself into a lighter mood and he said, "Hey, you still fucking that Alvarez broad or what?"

"I'm a married man."

He smiled.

I said, "She did tell me that the word on the street is that your brother-in-law still had a contract out on you. And you let your wife sleep there?" "One's got nothing to do with the other."

I guess I still didn't understand Italian family relationships. I tried to imagine a situation where Susan went to stay with relatives who were trying to kill me. Actually, something like that happens every time she goes to Hilton Head. But William Pecker head only wants me dead; he's too cheap to hire anyone to do the job. I said to Bellarosa, "Sally sent you flowers. Does he come here and visit you?"

He didn't answer the question directly, but said, "The guy's a Sicilian. The Sicilians have this expression: You hold your friends close, but your enemies closer. Capisce?"

"I do, but I think you're all nuts. I am not nuts, Frank. You are all nuts."

He shrugged.

I asked him, "Do they pay the two guys for a near miss?" He smiled. "They can keep the half they got up front. They don't get the other half." He added, "I woulda done it different."

"How so?"

He replied as though he'd thought this out. "Well, the shotguns were all right to knock people down and fuck up everybody's mind. You know? But you gotta finish the guy you're after with a bullet in the head, because lots of guys wear a vest now. Right?"

"Techniques vary, I'm sure. Hey, Frank, how come you were wearing a vest and not me?"

"I told you, you're a civilian. Don't worry about it. Hey, you want a vest? I'll give you one of mine." He laughed.

There was a knock on the door, and an FBI guy came in followed by Filomena, who was carrying a tray. I stood to help her, but she made it clear I was in her way, so I sat down. There aren't many women whose appearance would be improved by a beard, but Filomena was one of them.

She put a tray on the table and poured two cups of coffee. Frank said something to her in Italian, and she said something back to him, and they were at it again. While they argued about whatever, she fixed his coffee with cream and sugar and buttered a biscuit for him. I could tell, despite the arguing, that there was affection between the two. I said to Bellarosa, "Tell her I like her." He smiled and spoke to Filomena in Italian.

She looked at me and made a sort of grunt, then snapped something at me. Bellarosa translated, "She said you have a beautiful wife and you should behave." He added, "Italian women think when you give them a compliment, you want to fuck them. They think all men are pigs."

"They're right."

Filomena gave me a glance and left.

I had some coffee, but I noticed that Bellarosa ignored his and ignored the biscuits. I said to him, "Frank, I'm not here to do the government's work, but I have to tell you, you should put on your Machiavellian thinking cap and consider what's good for you and your wife and your sons." I added, "I tell you this because I like you."

He seemed to be actually thinking about that, then replied, "I'll tell you something, Counsellor, things are different now. Twenty years ago, nobody talked to the DA or the Feds. Now you got guys who want it both ways. They want to make the money, live the life, then they get into a little trouble with the law, and they don't want to do a little time. You know? So they sing. They don't understand that you got to be ready to do twenty years when you get into this business or you don't get into this business. But now they all have middle-class ambitions, these men. They want to sleep with their wives and girlfriends every night, see their kids off to school, play golf even. In my uncle's day, a man did his twenty years without a fucking peep, and he came out and his wife hugged him, his children kissed his hand, and his partners filled him in on the latest. Understand? But who's got that kind of balls today? So the fucking U.S. Attorney offers deals. But I don't make deals with Feds to save my own ass. My friends should've understood that. They should understand that Frank Bellarosa is not a fucking rat like half of them are. You know what I learned at La Salle? You lead by example. You don't compromise your honour. If this thing, this organization, it going to go on, then I got to show everybody how to make it go on. I got to set the example even if they tried to kill me, and even if I'm surrounded now by Feds. That's balls, Counsellor. Balls. Capisce?"