“What?”

“Nothing, that’s what happened. While the Doms are scrambling around, trying to reorganize after losing two bosses, someone moves in and pays them all off. I’m not talking about chump change here; I’m talking big bucks. Next thing we know, half of Wash Heights is suddenly Benedetto territory.”

“Chr—C.D.’s father-in-law.”

“You know more about this than you’re letting on.”

“No, I don’t know anything about these events. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“Yeah, Benedetto was C.D.’s father-in-law. So we figured that C.D. went in and divided up the spoils between him and his father-in-law. You know, as a gift to the old man. Except three months later, C.D. and Benedetto’s cow of a daughter are no longer wedded in holy matrimony, and suddenly C.D. is gone. Like vanished off the face of the earth. The old man—Benedetto—he’s got all the territory. So we figured that Benedetto muscled out Donatti, that the kid was either lying six feet under with dirt in his eyes or implanted in a foundation of one of the Camden, New Jersey, rejuvenation projects. The other possibility, of course, was that the guy was in hiding, deciding on his next move. If he’s laying low, we figured— oh boy, another war. So you know what happened?”

“What happened?”

“Nothing, that’s what happened. So we think he’s dead. Then maybe twelve months later—this was about three or four years ago— C.D. pops up out of nowhere. He’s livin’ uptown not too far from here, taking beaver shots of teenage girls—”

“Kiddie porn?”

“Nah, they’re all over eighteen. How do I know this? I’ve tried to bust the guy no less than ten times. His girls are all righteous—for now. He’s got some Supreme Court decisions pending that may put him down for a while, but the guy is a weed. He’ll pop back with something new. For the time being, we know he’s pimping his girls, but we can’t find the chink in the armor. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because C.D. don’t talk.”

“He and the old man still in contact?”

“Yeah, sure. Since he’s surfaced, we see him visiting Joey every now and then. Nothing too heavy. Outta obligation, I think. Joey adopted C.D. They’re not related. You probably know that.”

“I know that.”

“C.D.’s got no blood family, no friends, no nothing in the way of social connections. What he does have is one of the seediest rags in the business. A twenty- to thirty-page glossy pictorial of young girls— all of them barely eighteen—dressed up as even younger girls who play out every middle-aged guy fantasy known to mankind. You know—teacher/student, patient/candy striper, making it with your daughter’s best friend—”

“Lovely.”

“I don’t know who the fuck he’s selling this shit to, but he must have some kind of market. What started as a cheap, homemade job has blossomed into something with high-quality photographs and advertising. I’m not saying he’s ready for prime-time magazine space, but there are buyers out there.”

“American enterprise.”

“Wanna know what I think?”