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Everyone knew about it.’

Bone threw him a blank look. He was a tall, scary-looking man with yellowing, hang-dog teeth and a lethal scar running the length of his left cheek. ‘You talkin’ to me?’ he said coldly.

‘Some reason I shouldn’t?’

‘You’re a fuckin’ joke,’ Bone sneered.

‘Okay, okay, cut it out,’ Gus interrupted. ‘The war’s outside this room, not in it.’

‘Forget it,’ Bone growled.

Michael was not prepared to forget it. ‘You got some kinda beef with me?’ he demanded later, blocking the older man on his way out.

Bone looked him over with his small, shifty eyes. ‘You gonna stand there an’ tell me you dunno what went down?’ he asked. ‘You really gonna do that?’

‘Huh?’

‘C’mon,’ Bone taunted. ‘You can’t be that dumb.’

Michael stared at him blankly.

‘Oh, now I get it,’ Bone said, enjoying himself. ‘Mamie never told you, did she?’

‘Told me what?’

‘About your mama,’ Bone said. ‘Y’know,’ he added, fingering the scar on his cheek, ‘I was there the night it happened.’

Michael felt a coldness in the pit of his stomach. ‘What the fuck you sayin’?’

‘Mamie set up the robbery that got your mom killed and your old man shot,’ Bone announced triumphantly. ‘Her and Roy was responsible. Roy fired the gun, while Mamie stood guard outside.’ A long beat. ‘Now d’you get it?’

‘That’s impossible,’ Michael said.

‘Aren’t you listenin’?’ Bone said, with an evil leer. ‘I told you, I was there.’

‘You were there,’ Michael repeated dully.

‘I used t’fuck that cow, Mamie,’ Bone continued. ‘Turned out she’s a bad one. Screwed me on a big deal.’ He wiped his nose on the back of his hand. ‘Oh yeah, I know plenty about Mamie an’ her fuckin’ scumbag cousin.’

‘Roy killed my mother? Is that what you’re tellin’ me?’

‘He sure did,’ Bone said, picking his teeth. ‘I was with ’em, only I wasn’t carryin’. We scoped the place out in the afternoon, an’ came back later. Shit–had no fuckin’ clue Roy was gonna shoot anyone.’

‘Christ!’ Michael said, turning pale.

‘Now you know–whatcha gonna do about it?’ Bone challenged. ‘’Cause that bitch sure as shit made a monkey outta you all these years. You danced for her good.’

Michael didn’t answer. He was trying desperately to remain calm and think rationally. Never act on impulse, that was one lesson he’d learned. Inside he was burning up with a barely controlled black rage. Could this be true? Had Roy shot his mom while Mamie waited outside?

In a horrible way it all made sense, and it certainly explained why Mamie had always been so interested in Vinny. It also explained why she’d befriended him. It must have amused her in a cruel and heartless way to know that she was responsible for his mother’s death.

He turned and walked away from Bone without saying another word. If he stayed around, he’d probably kill the bastard.

When he got home that night, Beth was sitting on their bed painting her toenails silver while listening to the Rolling Stones on the new stereo he’d bought her. ‘What’s up?’ she asked cheerfully, bouncing round to the raunchy sounds of Mick Jagger yelling ‘Satisfaction’.

‘Nothing you should worry about,’ he said, going into the bathroom and staring at his reflection in the mirror.

‘Never said I was worried,’ she replied, shouting above the music. ‘Isn’t this track amazing? I love Mick. Don’t you?’

He was desperate to talk to someone, and Beth was too young to burden with such grim information. He went downstairs to the kitchen, took a beer from the fridge, then sat at the table and considered telling Max.

Not a great idea, because Max was always on his case. ‘You’re working for another gangster,’ Max had complained. ‘Five years in the joint ain’t enough? You want more, is that the deal?’

‘Anybody with an Italian name and you automatically think they’re connected,’ he’d replied. ‘How many times I gotta tell you? Dante Lucchese is a businessman.’

‘An’ what business would that be?’

‘Waste disposal.’

Max had rolled his eyes.

So he couldn’t confide in Max, and he certainly couldn’t confide in Charlie who, since getting his new leg was working in a bank and doing quite well. Besides, it was probably a good thing there was no one to try to talk him out of what he knew he had to do. Not only had the shooter, Roy, made Vinny into a cripple but, by killing Anna Maria, he’d robbed Michael of the childhood he might have had.

Pure fury was building inside him like a volcano. He realized he’d been waiting to get revenge for his mother’s murder all these years. And now that he knew the truth, there was no more waiting. It was time to take action.

They would pay. All of them.

And they would pay soon.

Mamie had obviously got a good settlement out of Vito, because she’d relocated to a Park Avenue apartment and moved Roy in with her.

Mamie was a true survivor; she’d hired herself the best divorce lawyer in town, and was threatening to reveal certain aspects of Mr G’s business interests if he didn’t come up with the right amount of alimony. Meanwhile, she was spending her soon-to-be ex-husband’s money at an alarming pace, and doing whatever and whoever took her fancy.

Michael began surveying her apartment building and checking out her movements, making sure she didn’t spot him. He soon found out she had two dogs–a pair of spoiled white miniature poodles. They were walked three times a day by different people. The first walk, early in the morning, was taken care of by the front desk porter. Lunchtime, Mamie took them out herself. And late at night it was Roy’s turn.

A couple of weeks after listening to Bone’s revelations, Michael finally took action. It was time.

That night he waited in the park, stationing himself behind a tree, half-way along the path where Roy usually walked the dogs. It was a cold, dark night, and the park was deserted, exactly the way he wanted it.

As he stood there, he was thinking about the Chronicle and everything Mr G’s hit man had taught him. At last it

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