In the bed on the other side of his father lay an old man with his foot hanging in a cast. He looked at the ceiling.

“What happened?” Connor asked.

“Got jumped by a bunch of Letts,” Danny said. “That colored fella was Luther. He probably saved my life.”

The old man in the next bed scratched his leg at the top of the cast.

“We’ve got the holding cells filled to the brink with Letts and Commies,” his father said. “You go have a look later. Find the men who did it and we’ll find ourselves a nice dark lot before we book them.”

Danny said, “Water?”

Con’ found a pitcher on the windowsill and filled a glass and brought it to him.

His father said, “We don’t even have to book them, if you follow my meaning.”

“It’s not hard, sir, to follow your meaning.” Danny drank. “I never saw them.”

“What?”

“They came up on me fast, got my coat over my head, and went to work.”

“How could you not see—?”

“I was following Tessa Ficara.”

“She’s here?” his father said.

“She was last night.”

“Jesus, boy, why didn’t you call for backup?”

“You guys were throwing a party in Roxbury, remember?”

His father ran a hand along his chin. “You lose her?”

“Thanks for the water, Con’.” He smiled at his brother.

Connor chuckled. “You’re a piece of work, brother. You really are.”

“Yeah, I lost her. She turned onto Hammond Street, and the Russians showed up. So what do you want to do, Dad?”

“Well, we’ll talk to Finch and the BI. I’ll have some badges canvass Hammond and the rest of the area, hope for the best. But I doubt she’s still hanging around after last night.” His father held up the Morning Standard. “Front-page news, boy.”

Danny sat up fully in the bed and his ribs howled some more. He blinked at the pain and looked at the headline: “Police Wage War on Reds.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“Home,” his father said. “You can’t keep putting her through this. First Salutation. Now this. It’s a strain on her heart, it is.”

“How about Nora? She know?”

His father cocked his head. “Why would she know anything? We’ve no contact with her anymore.”

“I’d like her to know.”

Thomas Coughlin looked at Connor and then back at Danny. “Aiden, you don’t say her name. You don’t bring her up in my presence.”

Danny said, “Can’t do that, Dad.”

“What?” This from Connor, coming up behind their father. “She lied to us, Dan. She humiliated me. Jesus.”

Danny sighed. “She was family for how long?”

“We treated her as family,” his father said, “and look how she repaid us. Now it’s the end of this subject, Aiden.”

Danny shook his head. “For you maybe. Me?” He pulled the sheet off his body. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and hoped neither of them could see the price it cost. Jesus! The pain blew up through his chest. “Con’, hand me my pants, would you?”