The other thing Laurie noticed was a large handgun with an attached silencer on the arm of the art-deco chair.

“Welcome home, Dr. Montgomery,” Franco said. “Thank you for the wine and beer.”

Laurie’s eyes went to the coffee table. There was an empty beer bottle and wineglass.

“Please come over and sit down,” Franco said. He pointed to a side chair they’d put in the middle of the room.

Laurie didn’t move. She was incapable of it. She thought vaguely about running into the kitchen for the phone but immediately dismissed the idea as ridiculous. She even thought about fleeing back to her front door, but with all the locks, she knew it would be a futile gesture.

“Please!” Franco repeated with a false politeness that only augmented Laurie’s terror.

Angelo moved the cat to the side and stood up. He took a step toward Laurie and, without warning, backhanded her viciously across the face. The blow propelled Laurie back against the wall, where her legs gave way. She slumped to her hands and knees. A few drops of bright red blood dropped from her split upper lip, splattering on the hardwood floor.

Angelo grabbed her by the upper arm and roughly hoisted her to her feet. Then he powered her over to the chair and pushed her into a sitting position. Laurie’s terror made her incapable of resisting.

“That’s better,” Franco said.

Angelo leaned over and stuck his face in Laurie’s. “Recognize me?”

Laurie forced herself to look up into the man’s horribly scarred face. He looked like a character in a horror movie. She swallowed; her throat had gone dry. Incapable of speech, all she could do was shake her head.

“No?” Franco questioned. “Doctor, I’m afraid you are going to hurt Angelo’s feelings and, under the circumstances, that’s a dangerous thing to do.”

“I’m sorry,” Laurie squeaked. But no sooner had the words come out, then Laurie associated the name with the fact that the man standing in front of her had been burned. It was Angelo Facciolo, Cerino’s main hit man, now obviously out of jail.

“I’ve been waiting five years,” Angelo snarled. Then he struck Laurie again, half knocking her off the chair. She ended up with her head down. There was more blood. This time it came from her nose and soaked into the carpet.

“Okay, Angelo!” Franco said. “Remember! We’ve got to talk with her.”

Angelo trembled for a moment over Laurie, as if struggling to restrain himself. Abruptly, he went back to the couch and sat down. He picked the cat back up and began roughly petting it. Tom didn’t mind and began to purr.

Laurie managed to right herself. With her hand, she felt both her lip and her nose. Her lip was already beginning to swell. She pinched her nose to halt the bleeding.

“Listen, Doctor Montgomery,” Franco said. “As you might imagine, it was very easy for us to come in here. I say this so you will comprehend how vulnerable you are. You see, we have a problem that you can help us with. We’re here to ask you nicely to leave the Franconi thing alone. Am I making myself clear?”