“What can you do?” Decker said.

“What can you do is right.” Cork sighed. “So you’re bowing out?”

“Since I’m not adding anything, I think that’s the smartest thing to do.”

“So for what it’s worth, I’ll put my two cents in. This is just observation.” Cork was still staring at the pictures. “You know what it looks like to me?”

“What?” Novack asked.

“It looks like Family—”

“I don’t think it’s Family, Bri.”

“I didn’t say it was Family, Mick, I said it looks like Family. Not current Family. Back four, five years when C.D. was still in the business and still aligned with the old man. It’s not one of his, though. First off, C.D. don’t do nothing unless it’s big money, and this guy is obviously low level. Second, C.D. would never, ever clean a mark in a hotel. Too many people, and C.D. don’t attract attention to himself. And third, and this may be rumor, but last I heard, C.D. was out of the business. I’m just saying it looks like one of his. A single shot. Not much blood. No extraneous shit. Clean and simple.”

“C.D.?” Decker asked.

“Christopher Donatti,” Novack answered him.

It took Decker a moment to absorb the words. Only then did a flood of images hit him like an overexuberant wave. Very few of Decker’s murder cases were committed to instant memory: Chris’s was one of them. Eight years had passed since Decker’s last contact with the younger Donatti, yet the details were still as fresh as a brisk wind. The murder of a high-school prom queen, Donatti the lead suspect. He’d been Whitman back then, and though the last name had changed, Decker was sure that the kid had not. Once a psycho…

“The hit looks like it was done by Chris Donatti?”

“It looks like it—that’s all. C.D. hasn’t been tied to anything since the old man had a massive coronary.”

“Joseph Donatti had a heart attack?” Decker asked.

“Yeah, Joey had a bad one.” Cork stared at him.

“Must have missed that one.” Decker swallowed. “When did this happen?”

“About four, five years ago,” Novack said.

“I’m slipping,” Decker said. “So does Chris Donatti run the Family?”

“You mean the Donatti Family? There is no Donatti Family. It dissolved.”

“What happened? Did a rival boot Chris out?”

“No, C.D.’s the one that dissolved it.” Cork stared at Decker. “You keep calling Donatti Chris? Are you on a first-name basis with the guy?”

Decker shrugged. “So what’s he doing? C.D.?”

“We got a problem with him. The problem is he’s a cipher. He don’t talk.”

“What do you mean, he doesn’t talk?”

“Just that. He don’t talk. Complete opposite of the old man. Old man ordered a hit, half the world knew about it. Not C.D. You know after the old man was retired, everyone was waiting to see what would happen. How C.D. would flex his muscle. Then it came—two hits of top dealers in Washington Heights. Bam, bam. Clean as a whistle. In-and-out jobs. Donatti’s M.O. to a tee. So we’re thinking, oh boy, C.D.’s moving in on Dominican territory. Watch out for the war. Then you know what happened?”