Billy thought this over. His father had a point, but on balance, the risk wasn’t worth it. “The goal here is survival. However Glenn dies, the people who matter will get the message. But he’s not going to die unless you can confirm you’re right. I’ll do some checking on my end. You guys can confront Glenn directly. But”—Billy pointed at Sonny—“he only dies if you believe he’s betrayed us. Got it?”

Sonny gave him a casual but sincere salute.

“And even if Glenn has crossed over, you’ve got to forget all that code-of-silence crap. He needs to go gently into that good night.”

Snake looked perplexed. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“He needs to choke to death on a Hall’s Mentho-Lyptus, or fall down in the shower. He doesn’t need his throat cut by two guys who think they’re costarring in a sequel to Goodfellas.”

Snake gritted his teeth, then said defiantly: “This ain’t the way Frank would have handled it.”

Billy was glad he’d eaten the Xanax. “Uncle Frank’s dead,” he said mildly. “Been dead thirty-seven years.”

“That don’t matter,” Snake said softly. “You know it don’t.”

“Forrest isn’t dead,” Billy said more firmly. “You want to take this up with him?” Billy slid his chair to the right, opening their line of sight to the big razorback. “’Cause I can tell you exactly how he feels about it.”

Sonny swallowed audibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his wrinkled throat.

“This ain’t right,” Snake said, but the defiance had gone out of him.

“Are we clear on what’s going to happen and not happen?” Billy asked.

Sonny nodded. Snake took longer, but he eventually nodded his assent, as Billy had known he would. These men had had their time in power, but that time was long gone. Mentioning Forrest to them was like a Wehrmacht officer mentioning the Gestapo to a German line soldier.

Billy pushed back from the table with a frustrated sigh. “We’re done here, boys. Let me know how it goes.”

Snake slid his half dollar off the table, slipped it back over his head, then gave his son a sullen glare. “You figure Brody feels the same way about this as you and Forrest?”

Anger flashed through Billy like a stroke of lightning. He stood and looked down at his father. “What the hell does Brody Royal have to do with any of this?”

Snake said nothing, but Billy saw more smugness in the curl of his father’s lip.

“Not a damn thing,” Sonny said, grabbing Snake’s arm and pulling him to the study door.