Charlie DeLuca’s eyes went dark and he looked at me the way you look at a parking ticket you’ve found under your wiper blade. He said, “I want you to watch this.” He turned and made the little hand move to Joey Putata. “Come here, piece of shit.”

Joey glanced at the short, muscular guy and then at the bartender, and then he walked out to stand in front of Charlie DeLuca’s table. The principal’s office. “What?”

“You told me you got rid of him. I sent you on the job to get rid of him, and here he is. I don’t like fuckups, piece of shit.”

Charlie wasn’t looking at Joey; he was looking at me. Joey was staring at Charlie, sweating now, scared and wondering what was going to happen, and everyone else was staring at Joey. Except for Ric. Ric made a nice, smooth shot and the clack of the balls was the only sound in the bar.

Charlie said, “Smack yourself, piece of shit.”

Joey said, “C’mon, Charlie, please. I took Lenny and Phil. We gave him the word.”

Charlie still didn’t look at him; he stared at me. “Do it, piece of shit. Hit yourself in the face.”

Joey sort of slowly raised his right hand and looked at it, then slapped himself in the face. It wasn’t very hard.

“Close your hand.”

Joey started to cry. “Hey, c’mon, Charlie.”

“Piece of shit.”

Joey closed his hand and sort of punched at his jaw.

“Harder.”

Joey hit himself harder, but it still wasn’t very hard.

Charlie said, “Ric, this piece of shit needs some help.”

Ric put down the pool cue and moved up by the bar, head still bobbing to music only he could hear. When he moved, he sort of glided, as if the tight pale skin were laid over steel cables and servo motors instead of muscle. He took off the Wayfarers and put them away in the black shirt and then he took out a stainless-steel Smith & Wesson 10mm automatic. You don’t see many 10-mils. Style.

Joey said, “Hey, Charlie, hey, I’ll do it, look at this.” This time his lip split.

Charlie nodded. “That’s better, piece of shit. Now a couple more.”

Joey hit himself twice more. The second time opened the split and blood ran down Joey’s chin and dripped onto his shirt. Ric put away the 10mm. Charlie DeLuca got up from the little table and came around and looked at me. “You see the way it is.”

I said, “Sure.”

“I want you gone. Ric, you and Tudi walk this fuck outta here and show him that I get what I want.”

I said, “Does this mean I can’t stay for lunch?”