He shook his head and seemed to see me again, as if for a time I was gone but had now returned. “Okay,” he said. “Karen Lloyd walks. Is that what you want?”

“Part of it. There’s something else.”

“What?”

“The woman who died in Brooklyn.” I looked at Ric. “He pulled the trigger. I want you to give him up to the cops.”

Ric moved the steel-girder shoulders and peeled himself away from the bookshelves, the leather jacket falling open.

Sal looked at Ric and then looked back at me. “I ain’t never gave one of my people up to the cops and I never would. My guys know that.”

Ric made a little smile.

“That’s the deal, Sal. Take it or leave it.”

Sal the Rock DeLuca shook his head. “No cops.” He raised the Dan Wesson, aimed it between my eyes, then turned and shot Ric once in the chest.

Ric saw it coming and yelled, “No!” and tried to move, but the slug caught him. It pushed him back into the bookshelves and then his heels slid out from beneath him and he fell to the floor.

Charlie made a gargling sound and whimpered.

Ric tried to get up, but his feet kept slipping.

Sal shot him again.

Ric clawed under his jacket and came out with his gun.

Sal shot him twice more, smoke from the caps rolling across the room like smog spilling through the Glendale Pass into the San Fernando Valley.

There were shouts in another part of the house and the sound of men running and then someone was banging on the door. Freddie came in first.

Sal was as calm as if he had taken out the trash. “Freddie, get a couple of those big plastic bags and take care of this.”

Freddie swallowed and stumbled backward out of the room.

Sal looked down at his son and then looked at me, his eyes empty and bottomless. “Good enough?”

I nodded.

“Okay, you got what you want. Now I get what I want. The Gambozas must never know. What we speak of here stays here, buried forever. Will you bury this? Will you keep my kid safe?” Sal and Karen Lloyd, each worried about their children.

I nodded again. “We bury it. We keep everyone safe.”

Vito said, “We got loose ends, Sal. Other people know.”

Sal said, “We’ll take care of the loose ends, Vito.” He looked back at me. “You want anything else?”

“No.”

“Then it’s a done deal. Get the fuck out of my sight.”

Chapter Thirty-six

Thirty-six