"How about his bedroom?"

"We don't do that." He added, "Not too much goes on there anyway." He walked toward me on the rolling boat and put his hand on my arm as though to steady himself. "Can we count on you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Well… I'm his attorney."

He took a step back as if I'd said I had a communicable disease.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I am. Specifically, he wants me to represent him in the matter of the murder of Juan Carranza." I studied Mr Mancuso's face and saw it was not a happy face.

He went to the portside rail and looked out to sea awhile. I realized that I had made a tactical blunder in relating this to him if Bellarosa actually wanted it to remain a secret until his arrest, arraignment, and bail hearing. But that was a small mistake, and I was bound to make a few more since I do mostly taxes, wills, and house closings. Also, Bellarosa had, at one point, wanted me to speak to Mancuso about Ferragamo, so I was not actually violating a privileged conversation. I said to Mancuso, "Do you want to know why I agreed to represent him?"

Without turning around, Mancuso replied, "I could speculate, Mr Sutter, and if I did, I would say it had nothing to do with cash."

"No, it doesn't. In fact, I'm repaying a favour. But the main reason is that I believe Bellarosa is innocent of that particular allegation." He turned toward me. "Do you? Why do you believe that?" "Among other reasons, because Bellarosa has convinced me that the U.S. Attorney, Mr Alphonse Ferragamo, is framing him for that murder. Actually not just framing him, but setting him up to be murdered by the Colombians or by Bellarosa's own people to keep the peace with the Colombians." I watched Mr Mancuso closely. He has a very expressive face, which is not good for a cop, and I could see that he did not find this statement absurd. Bellarosa was right about watching faces when I made this accusation. I said to Mr Mancuso, "I will relate to you what Bellarosa told me." And for the next ten minutes, I did just that. I concluded by saying, "Bellarosa said you are an honest man. So if you are, then tell me honestly, does this sound plausible to you?"

He stared down at the deck for a full minute, then without looking up at me replied, "A United States Attorney is not going to jeopardize his career and his very freedom for personal revenge."

"Well, I wouldn't have thought so three months ago, but -" – I affected an Italian accent – "but now I'ma learna abouta you paesanos, Mistah Mancuso, an' I'ma thinkin', maybe Mistah Bellarosa knowsa whas ina Mistah Ferragamo's head. Capisce?"

Mr Mancuso didn't seem amused.

I added, reverting to my normal accent, "Save Mr Ferragamo's soul, Mr Mancuso. Remind him that revenge is a sin. If he backs off, that will let me off the hook as well. Tell him to find something better than a frame-up for Frank Bellarosa. Tell him to play fair."

Mr Mancuso did not respond.

I glanced at my watch, then said to Mr Mancuso, "I'll show you how to tack.

Raise the mainsail first."

And so we set sail for home, tacking through the wind, and fighting the tide, which was still running out. After about an hour with little headway, a weary Mr Mancuso inquired, "Can't you just start the engine?"

"I could, but sailing into the wind is very instructive. It's a test of skill and patience. It is allegorical."

"It's a useless exercise," declared the crew.

We rounded Plum Point, and the wind shifted in a more favourable direction, so we made better headway. Mr Mancuso was kneeling on the foredeck, holding on to the rail. He seemed to enjoy the wind in the sails and the bow cutting through the water. I had advised him to put on a life jacket or tie on a lifeline, but he assured me he was an excellent swimmer. I called out to him, "Did you people screw me up with the IRS?"

He turned and looked at me, then called back, "No. But we know about that."

"I'm sure you do."

He added, "I didn't do that. You have my word on that." I called over the sound of the wind and water, "Maybe not you, but someone in your office."

"No. We don't fool around with the IRS. It's not legal, and we don't trust them."

"Then you couldn't get me off the hook with them?"

"We could put in a good word for you. But I can't promise you anything." But Frank Bellarosa and Mr Melzer could unconditionally promise me things. How utterly depressing and demoralizing.

He called to me, "Would you like me to put in a good word for you?"

"Sure. Tell them I go to church and I'm a good sailor."

"Will do. You want to plant some bugs for me?"

"I can't do that."

"Sure you can. But you have to resign as his attorney. You have to be ethical."

Mr Mancuso was into ethics. I called to him, "Lower the jib."

The what?"

"The sail flapping over your head."

He lowered the jib, then the staysail and the mainsail, and I started the engine. When you have an inexperienced crew, it's best to go into port under power and avoid a major embarrassment, like ploughing into a moored boat while people are having drinks on the clubhouse veranda.

We came alongside the pier, and I cut the engine as Mr Mancuso expertly lassoed a piling. We secured the Paumanok, and we both went below to collect our things. As Mr Mancuso put on his tie and gun, he said to me, "You're not defending Frank Bellarosa solely on the basis of your belief that he is innocent of this murder, Mr Sutter. Any attorney can do that. I think you are just playing with high explosives because you enjoy the danger. Like sailing in a storm at night. I know life can get boring, Mr Sutter, and people with time and money on their hands often need something to get their blood moving. Some men gamble, some race cars or boats, some climb mountains, some have affairs, some do it all." "At the same time?"

"But, Mr Sutter, there is a price to pay for the thrill. There are consequences.

Danger is dangerous."

"I know that, Mr Mancuso. Where did you get your law degree, if I may ask?"

"Georgetown."

"Excellent. Can I double your salary, Mr Mancuso? We need a Catholic. You have your twenty years in with the FBI."

He smiled. "I'm not counting years, Mr Sutter. I want to finish this job. If it takes another twenty years to smash the Mafia in New York, then, God willing, I'll still be at it."

"Please keep my offer in mind. It is a serious offer."

"I appreciate the thought. It is seductive. But what I want to say to you, Mr

Sutter, is that evil is seductive, and -"

"What did you say?"

"Evil is seductive. Do you understand?"

"Yes…"

"And virtue is boring. Evil seems to pay better than virtue, but virtue, Mr Sutter, is its own reward. You know that."

"Of course I know that. I am an honest man. I am doing nothing dishonest with Frank Bellarosa."

Mr Mancuso put his jacket on and gathered his shoes and socks. "But being involved with Frank Bellarosa is unethical, immoral, and unwise. Very unwise." He stepped closer to me in the small galley where we were standing. "Listen to me, Mr Sutter. Forget that I asked you to bug Bellarosa's house, and that he may be innocent of this particular charge. The man is evil. I like you, Mr Sutter, and I want to give you good advice. Tell Frank Bellarosa to go away and stay away from you and your wife." He actually grabbed me by the arm and put his face near mine. "I am the voice of truth and reality. Listen to my voice. That man will destroy you and your family. And it will be your fault, Mr Sutter, not his fault. For the love of God, tell him to leave you alone." He was absolutely right, of course, so I said, "Thank you. I like you, Mr Mancuso. You restore my faith in humanity, but not in much else. I'll think about what you've said."

Mr Mancuso released my arm. "Thank you for the ride, Mr Sutter. Have a pleasant day." He went up the companionway and disappeared on deck. After a minute, I followed and saw him on the pier slipping into his shoes. There were a few other people around now, and they were all watching this man in a suit who had come off my boat. At least a few people probably thought that Mr Mancuso was a friend of Mr Bellarosa's – as was John Sutter – and that Sutter and this Mafia fellow had just dumped a few bodies at sea. I called out to Mr Mancuso, "Ferragamo and Bellarosa belong in the same cell.