“His head was all lumps. I never saw skin so many colors like that. A thing like that is a sin. A sin. I knew right away who did it, but I had to keep my mouth shut. Vinnie was his father’s pride and joy, maybe even what he lived for. I should have known better than to let him go ahead with Brennan. Old man Ippolito was the guy who took care of me, and look how I repaid him. Vinnie’s death broke his fuckin’ heart.”

“Come on, Vic, take it easy,” the red-haired guy said.

The old man nodded. “Ippolito had his own ways of finding out what happened, and they worked. He never said anything to me about being involved, but he knew. I know he knew because of how he asked me to take care of it …”

“Wait until Brennan was a father.”

“No!” the old man roared. “Better! Better! Wait until Brennan couldn’t be a father again! Take his son away from him forever!”

“Brennan had two sons.”

“And Bruno Ippolito lived to see that! It made him sick to his stomach!”

Twenty to seven. Sonny, the one with the thinning hair, was going to take Devlin where he wanted to go. The red-haired guy said, “You said the gun was in Manhattan?”

Devlin was being helped to his feet. The red-haired guy wanted an intersection. They wanted to cruise by in another car first and make sure it was safe before letting Devlin near. “The Upper West Side,” Devlin said. “Yuppieville.”

He wasn’t supposed to see them exchange glances, but he did. Now he had to act as if he hadn’t. He had to be very, very careful. He couldn’t act too believing, couldn’t act as if he knew he was only playing for time, praying for a miracle. He couldn’t talk too much. No one in his right mind, behind a nose like his, would want to talk much. He had called something vivid to their minds. A mile of trendy restaurants and clothing shops on Columbus Avenue, the sidewalks filled with women. And tonight, the first night of a holiday weekend? It even made sense. A lot of stand-up citizens lived in that neighborhood, people a guy like Devlin would know, and with whom he might even stash a gun.

At the door, the old man stepped forward. “I know I can count on you. We’re even. Good luck to you. Enjoy London. You can cash a traveler’s check at the airport.”