Invasion of Privacy

for one specific contract? But Junior does the hit, and my client’s anywhere near DiRienzi at the time, Cocozzo has enough brains not to leave a witness behind who can finger a member of the family.”
    Zuppone tsked his tongue off the roof of his mouth. “Cuddy, I won’t lie to you. Yeah, she’d be cooked too. And I can understand why you’re trying to protect her. No shit, I do. But that’s not the problem.”
    “It is from my end.”
    “No. No, you and me are the problem. I’m sitting in a fucking frying pan, and Rick Ianella’s turning up the heat. And it’s not even his fucking fault, really, on account of he’s just trying to do the right thing. You’re the one gave me the bookkeeper’s picture, and now you’re the one’s got to come through somehow.”
    “After the way Junior treated you?”
    Zuppone flicked his head, shaking something off. “Don’t bring that up, okay?”
    “Primo—”
    “Look, the guy’s under a lot of pressure. His father’s in the fucking slam, and he sees us as the way to avenge the gentleman, and instead you play Lone fucking Ranger with him. What’s the guy supposed to do?”
    “Not knock you around in front of me.”
    “Nobody knocks me around, Cuddy.”
    “You really believe this Ianella is worth helping?”
    “That’s not my call. And it’s not yours, either. I told you this once already, I’m not gonna say it again. The organization’s been good to me. They took me in and they gave me a chance and I grew into it. Maybe with you it was the Army. Or your girlfriend there, her law school. I don’t know, maybe for each person it’s something different. But I do know it’s all the same too. You got to be loyal to the thing that made you what you are, Cuddy. And you got to remember that about me.”
    “And vice-versa.”
    Zuppone blew out a breath. “All right, so where does that leave us?”
    “How long can you stall your guests?”
    “My guests.” Primo shook his head. “The fuck, you saw them. How long you think it’ll be before they decide talking and wall-banging ain’t working out too good?”
    “What kind of control does Cocozzo really have over Junior?”
    “I wish you wouldn’t call him that.”
    “Sorry.”
    “I mean, you get used to saying an insulting nickname, it’ll pop out some time, and then we’ll see blood whether we had to or not. I remember this one guy from the neighborhood, he was big, huge even, but you took a leak next to him, you could tell he had this little tiny dick. Not that you’d exactly be looking at it, you know, but you’d just kind of notice it. And another guy kept referring to this huge guy as—”
    “Primo, you’re right. How much control?”
    “What? Coco over Jun—Jesus Christ, now you got me doing it.”
    “I said I was sorry.”
    “Cuddy, if this ever—”
    “Primo, how much control?”
    The head tick-tocked. “About what you saw today, if I was betting on it. Ianella’s into the grand gesture. You know, like putting the fear of God into that hotel clerk out in Milwaukee , get me my suite there, or your chair thing here. Coco’s more like me, a ‘situation guy.’ He can handle his boss, but only up to a point, account of Ianella’s still the boss, and they both got to go back home sometime.”
    Probably a fair assessment. “Okay. Do your best to keep them occupied, and I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
    “With what?”
    “With what I can do.”
    “Cuddy, let me tell you something, you don’t already know it. I’m in the frying pan, like I said. These people, they start believing they can’t trust me, they’re gonna put you in the fire. They ain’t gonna care you got friends on the cops, or your girlfriend’s a DA. And there ain’t gonna be a fucking thing I can do about it.”
    Primo Zuppone stood and left me. I thought he was pretty cool not to have asked whether I really had a gun in my lap.

17

    A fter waiting five minutes, I tried Olga Evorova at her condo. Just the tape machine. Then I called her at the bank. The formal female secretary said Ms. Evorova was “in conference.” I asked for another extension. When I gave my name to the brusque male voice, Craig said, “One moment,” as though he’d been instructed to put me right through.
    “Claude Loiselle.”
    “This is John Cuddy. I asked for Olga first and got the ‘in conference’ answer.”
    “That’s just the party line. Nobody’s heard from her.” Loiselle hesitated, then said, “I take it