As the man got closer – actually long before that – I recognized him. I turned to Bellarosa. "Mancuso."

"Yeah?"

Lenny, at the other window, exclaimed, "He's alone! The son of a bitch is alone." He turned to Bellarosa. "Let's off the motherfucker." I didn't think that was a good idea.

Bellarosa said, "The man has balls. What balls he has."

Vinnie was scandalized. "They can't do that! They can't send one guy!" Mr Mancuso wasn't alone, of course, but had the full weight and power of the law with him. That was the lesson to be learned this morning, not only by Frank Bellarosa and his men, but by me.

Lenny said, "Here he comes!" He put his right hand inside his jacket, reaching, I hoped, for his appointment book. But no, he drew his revolver and said, "Should we take him, boss?" Actually, he didn't sound too sincere. Bellarosa replied, "Shut up. Put that away. Both of you get back. Over there.

Counsellor, you stand there."

Lenny and Vinnie moved far back near a column, and I stood to the side.

There were three raps on the door.

Frank Bellarosa strode to the door and opened it. "Hey, look who's here." Mr Mancuso held up his badge case, though we all knew who he was, and got right to the point. "I have a warrant for your arrest, Frank. Let's go." But Bellarosa did not make a move to leave and both men stared at each other, as if they had both anticipated this moment for years and wanted to let it hang there awhile to be fully appreciated. Finally Bellarosa said, "You got some balls, Mancuso."

Mancuso replied, "And you are under arrest." Mancuso pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. "Hands to your front."

"Hey, goombah, let me take care of a few things first. Okay?"

"Cut the goombah stuff, Frank. Are you resisting arrest?"

"No, no. I just want to talk to my wife. No funny stuff. I was waiting for you.

Look, we got a civilian here." He stepped aside and motioned toward me. "See?

You know him. He'll vouch for me."

Mr Mancuso and I made eye contact, and I could tell that he already knew I was there. I said to him, "Mr Mancuso, you can see that my client was expecting this arrest, and he has made no attempt to resist or to flee. He wants some time to speak to his wife. That is reasonable and customary." I didn't know if that was true or not, but it sounded as if it could be. I think that's the way they do it in the movies.

Mr Mancuso said to Bellarosa, "All right, Frank. Ten minutes. Just a hug and a smooch. No boomba, boomba."

Bellarosa laughed, though I was certain he wanted to smash Mancuso's face with a lead pipe.

Bellarosa moved out of the doorway, and Mancuso walked a few paces into the palm court, looked at me, then saw Vinnie, then Lenny. He glanced around to make sure he hadn't missed anyone.

Bellarosa said, "Benvenuto a nostra casa."

Mr Mancuso replied in Italian, and though I couldn't understand what he'd said, it didn't sound like 'Thank you.' In fact, if I didn't know firsthand that Mr Mancuso didn't use profanity, I'd swear he said, "Fuck you." Maybe he only swears in Italian. Anyway, whatever he said caused Frank, Vinnie, and Lenny to be unhappy with their paesano.

Frank kept his smile in place, excused himself, and climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Mr Mancuso turned his attention to Lenny and Vinnie. He said to them, "Carrying?"

They both nodded.

"Licensed?"

Again they nodded.

Mr Mancuso put out his hand. "Wallets."

They both put their wallets in his hand, and he rummaged through them, letting money and credit cards fall to the floor as he retrieved their pistol licences. He compared their faces to the photos and said, "Vincent Adamo and Leonard Patrelli. What do you do for a living, boys?"

"Nothin'."

He threw their wallets to them and said, "Get out."

They hesitated, then scooped up their money and cards from the floor and left. Mr Mancuso turned his attention now to his surroundings, looking up at the birds, the hanging plants, and the mezzanine and balconies. I asked him, "Would you like some coffee?"

He shook his head and began ambling around the palm court, checking on the health of the potted palms, making sure the birds in the lower cages had food and water, then contemplating a pink marble column.

This was indeed a different Mr Mancuso than the one I'd gone sailing with. He turned and looked at me, then motioned me to a big wicker chair. I sat, and he pulled another chair over and sat across from me. We listened to the birds awhile, then he looked at me and asked, "What's the problem, Mr Sutter?"

"Problem? What problem?"

"That's what I asked you. You have to have problems or you wouldn't be here. Family problems? Money problems? Wife problems, life problems? You're not going to solve any problems here. Are you trying to prove something? What's making you unhappy?"

"You, at the moment."

"Hey, I'm not in the happiness business."

"Are you in the priest business?"

"Sometimes. Look, I'll let Bellarosa call his attorney, Jack Weinstein. Weinstein will meet him at Federal Court. I'll give you five minutes with Bellarosa to explain to him any way you want that you don't want to represent him or, in fact, ever see him again. Believe me, Mr Sutter, he will understand." "You're not supposed to try to come between a lawyer and his client." "Don't tell me the law, Mr Sutter. You know, it doesn't matter to me, as a federal agent making this arrest, who Bellarosa's attorney is. But it matters to me as a citizen and as a man that his attorney is you."

I thought about that for a moment, then replied, "I truly appreciate that. But I cannot walk away from this, Mr Mancuso. Only I know how I got here, and why. I have to see it through, or I'll never break out on the other side. Do you understand?"

"I have always understood. But you should have explored your alternatives."

"Probably I should have."

We sat in silence for a few more minutes, then I heard Bellarosa's heavy tread on the staircase.

Mancuso stood and met him at the bottom step, cuffs in hand. "Ready, Frank?" "Sure." Bellarosa extended his hands, and Mancuso cuffed him. Mancuso said, "Against the post."

Bellarosa leaned against the marble stair post, and Mancuso frisked him. "Okay." Bellarosa straightened up, and Mancuso said to me, "As long as you're here, you tell him his rights."

I didn't really remember the wording of the so-called Miranda warning, which was a little embarrassing. (I do mostly taxes, wills, and house closings.) Anyway, Mancuso and Bellarosa helped me out, though Mancuso had a little cheat card with him. He said to me, "Okay? Your client understands his rights?" I nodded.

Mancuso took my client's arm and began leading him away, but I said, "I'd like to see the arrest warrant."

Mr Mancuso seemed annoyed, but fished it out of his pocket and handed it to me. I studied it carefully. I'd never really seen one, and I found it rather interesting. I figured I was earning a little of the fifty large already, and making up for the Miranda thing, but I could sense that Mancuso and even Bellarosa were a little impatient. I handed the warrant back to Mancuso, but I wondered if I was supposed to ask for a copy for my files. Mancuso led Bellarosa to the door and I followed. I said to Mancuso, "Are you going directly to the FBI office at Federal Plaza?"

"That's right."

"How long will you be there?"

"As long as it takes to book my prisoner."

"And after the booking, will you be taking my client directly to the Federal Court at Foley Square?"

"That is correct."

"At about what time, Mr Mancuso?"

"Whenever I get there, Mr Sutter."

"Will there be newspeople there?"

"That's no concern of mine, Mr Sutter."

"It's a concern of Alphonse Ferragamo, who is going to stage a media circus."