“You might like it with ouzo. Better than sugar.”

“Perhaps I’ll try some.”

“You have an okay drive here, yes?”

“No problem.”

Angelidis nodded. “Beautiful day.”

“Beautiful garden.”

“Yes. Fresh garlic. Mint. Oregano. Very good.” Angelidis shifted slightly in his seat. “What can I do for you?”

Gurney took the cup of coffee closest to him and sipped it thoughtfully. On the drive up from Walnut Crossing he’d concocted an opening gambit that now, as he sat facing this man who might well be one of the cleverest mobsters in America, struck him as rather feeble. But he decided to give it a shot anyway. Sometimes a Hail Mary pass is all you’ve got left.

“Some information came my way that might interest you.”

Angelidis’s gaze was mildly curious.

Gurney went on. “Just a rumor, of course.”

“Of course.”

“About the Organized Crime Task Force.”

“Rotten shits. No principles.”

“What I heard,” said Gurney, taking another sip of his coffee, “is that they’re looking to pin Spalter on you.”

“Carl? You see what I mean? Bunch of shits! Why would I want to lose Carl? I told you before, like a son to me. Why would I think to do such a thing? Disgusting!” Angelidis’s big boxer’s hands had closed into fists.

“The scenario they’re putting together is that you and Carl had a falling-out, and—”

“Bullshit!”

“Like I said, the scenario they’re putting together—”

“What the fuck’s a scenario?”

“The hypothesis, the story they’re making up.”

“Making it up, all right. Slimy shits!”

“Their hypothesis is that you and Carl had a falling-out, you hired a hit on him through Fat Gus, and then you got nervous and decided to cover your tracks by getting rid of Gus—maybe doing that one yourself.”

“Myself? They think I hammered nails into his head?”

“I’m just telling you what I hear.”

Angelidis sat back in his chair, a shrewd look replacing the anger in his eyes. “This is coming from where?”

“The plan to hang the murder on you?”

“Yeah. This coming from the top of OCTF?”

Something about his tone gave Gurney the idea that Angelidis might have a line to someone inside the task force. Someone who would be aware of the major initiatives.

“Not the way I hear it. I get the impression that the move against you is a little off-center. Unofficial. Couple of guys who’ve got a bug up their ass about you. That ring any bells?”

Angelidis didn’t answer. His jaw muscles tightened. He remained quiet for a long minute. When he spoke, his tone was flat. “You drove up here from Walnuts just to bring me this information?”

“Something else, too. I found out who the hitter was.”

Angelidis became very still.

Gurney watched him carefully. “Petros Panikos.”