Billy wondered if his father’s posturing was a front, if Snake had actually killed Viola and simply lucked out that Dr. Cage had somehow been implicated. But unless Sonny betrayed Snake and told Billy the truth, he’d never know for sure. It didn’t matter now. So long as Dr. Cage went to jail for Viola’s murder, the threat to his organization would be neutralized.

“Uncle Sonny,” Billy said, returning to the reason for their meeting. “No Double Eagle has ever talked to any reporter. Do you really believe Glenn Morehouse wants to be the first?”

Sonny made a point of not looking at Snake. “God help us, Bill, but I’m afraid your daddy’s right. Glenn’s done got religion. He’s scared. What does he care about prison? Or us? He’s tryin’ to get right with God. Wilma says he’s been ravin’ when he’s on his medication. I think he’ll probably spill every gol-dern thing he knows before he’s done. He might’ve already done it. We’re liable to read our whole life stories in this Thursday’s Beacon.”

“If we don’t have FBI agents knocking on our doors tonight,” Snake added.

At this prospect, the first worm of anxiety burrowed into Billy’s gut. He fished a Xanax from his pocket and crushed the bitter tablet between his teeth.

“I wish I felt different,” Sonny concluded, “but there it is. Glenn could put us all in Angola, Bill. You and Forrest, too. Even Mr. Royal.”

“All right,” Billy said, swallowing the powdered pill with a grimace. “All right. What do you old outlaws want to do?”

“An oath is an oath,” Snake declared. “There’s rules. Prescriptions and proscriptions, as Frank used to say.”

Billy stirred at the mention of the blood oath his uncle had created back in 1964. “Let me get this straight. Poor Glenn has one foot in the grave, but you two want to carry out some medieval penalty on him? One that’ll make the front page of every paper from here to Los Angeles?”

“That’s the law,” Sonny said with imperious certainty. “That’s what Frank laid down for traitors, and everybody agreed.”

“Well, that’s not gonna happen. If Glenn is a traitor, he’s got to die. But dead is dead, no matter how you get there.”

“Of course it matters,” Snake argued, shaking his head with exaggerated passion. “Glenn was one of us. Don’t you see?”

“No. I don’t.”

Snake’s eyes widened in indignation. “What about honor, boy?”

“Honor don’t cover the payroll, Pop.”

Snake’s face had gone so red that Billy feared he might burst a blood vessel. “We’ve got to make an example for everybody else.”