“I come from there, too, in a way. And I am not… able to return.” Candlefly’s entire body tenses as if he’s experiencing a small moment of pain. “That’s why I want to know what Mookie Pearl knows,” Candlefly says plainly. “I want him to tell us what you and I do not know. I want to create a little redundancy. I don’t want to kill him. I just want to talk.”

“And then you’ll kill him.”

Another laugh. “No. Not necessarily. You say he’s innocent.”

“And you say he killed Casimir Zoladski. And in this town – in this Organization – we deal with that kind of thing one way and one way only.”

“Maybe it’s not true. Maybe I’m wrong.”

“You really willing to find that out?”

“Of course. A good employer is a fair employer.”

Werth watches Candlefly’s eyes. Another difference between him and the Boss. The Boss has sincere eyes. Hard like bullets. Hot like cigar-tips. Candlefly’s eyes are flashing lights. Shifting left, right, shining bright.

Candlefly’s got liar’s eyes.

Werth nods. Lies right back. “Good. I trust you.”

“Now,” Candlefly says, “before we go into the cellar and I show you something, I just want you to think about what you want out of all this.”

A radar ping in the back of Werth’s mind. A selfish twisting in his gut. “What?”

“Your reward. For being so loyal.”

“Reward.”

“Of course. Employees who go beyond the pale deserve employee bonuses. You want a house here on the Upper West Side? Done. A new crew? Easy. Something new to drive? That can happen with a hand wave. Think about it, won’t you?”

Then Candlefly opens the door.

Werth is left reeling. The gut punch of a sudden promise – the potential for security, for wealth, is dizzying. He sees his moment: Candlefly there at the top of the steps, looking back at Werth with a smile on that handsome face.

“Coming?”

Werth swallows. Would be nice to have a proper house in a neighborhood like this one. All this time, people still treat him like a freak…

“Sure. Yeah. Lead the way.”

And the opportunity slips from his grip as Candlefly descends and Werth follows.

Werth’s still got diamonds in his eyes as they reach the bottom of the basement stairs. Candlefly starts talking again, says, “You know the phrase, carrot and the stick? Some confusion over it. Some believe it’s a carrot tied to the end of the stick – dangled at the front of the donkey’s mouth so he moves the cart ever forward, the foolish ass thinking he’s just one step away from a mouthful of delicious carrot. But that’s not how I take it. I take it to mean that, in all things, we have two options: reward, and punishment. Honey or vinegar. Carrot and stick.”