Connor was ten months younger than Danny. This made them “Irish twins,” but beyond the bloodline, they’d never had much in common. They’d graduated from high school the same day, Danny by the skin of his teeth, Connor a year early and with honors. Danny had joined the police straightaway, while Connor had accepted a full scholarship to Boston Catholic College in the South End. After two years doubling up on his classes there, he’d graduated summa cum laude and entered Suffolk Law School. There’d never been any question where he’d work once he passed the bar. He’d had a slot waiting for him in the DA’s office since he’d worked there as an office boy in his late teens. Now, with four years on the job, he was starting to get bigger cases, larger prosecutions.

“How’s work?” Danny said.

Connor lit a fresh cigarette. “There’s some very bad people out there.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I’m not talking about Gusties and garden-variety plug-uglies, brother. I’m talking about radicals, bombers.”

Danny cocked his head and pointed at the shrapnel scar on his own neck.

Connor chuckled. “Right, right. Look who I’m talking to. I guess I just never knew how…how…fucking evil these people are. We’ve got a guy now, we’ll be deporting him when we win, and he actually threatened to blow up the Senate.”

“Just talk?” Danny asked.

Connor gave that an irritated head shake. “No such thing. I went to a hanging a week ago?”

Danny said, “You went to a…?”

Connor nodded. “Part of the job sometimes. Silas wants the people of the Commonwealth to know we represent them all the way to the end.”

“Doesn’t seem to go with your nice suit. What’s that color—yellow?”

Connor swiped at his head. “They call it cream.”

“Oh. Cream.”

“It wasn’t fun, actually.” Connor looked out into the yard. “The hanging.” He gave Danny a thin smile. “Around the office, though, they say you get used to it.”

They said nothing for a bit. Danny could feel the pall of the world out there, with its hangings and diseases, its bombs and its poverty, descend on their little world in here.

“So, you’re gonna marry Nora,” he said eventually.

“That’s the plan.” Connor raised his eyebrows up and down.

He put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Best of luck then, Con’.”

“Thanks.” Connor smiled. “Heard you just moved into a new place, by the way.”

“No new place,” Danny said, “just a new floor. Better view.”

“Recently?”

“About a month ago,” Danny said. “Apparently some news travels slow.”

“It does when you don’t visit your mother.”

Danny placed a hand to his heart, adopted a thick brogue. “Ah, ’tis a fierce-terrible son, sure, who doesn’t visit his dear old mudder every day of the week.”

Connor chuckled. “You stayed in the North End, though?”

“It’s home.”

“It’s a shit hole.”

“You grew up there,” Joe said, suddenly dangling from the lowest branch.

“That’s right,” Connor said, “and Dad moved us out as soon as he was able.”