Shallow Graves

security gets here.“
    Primo knocked once and went in.
    Winningham looked up from behind a desk with neat stacks of opened mail on it and a couple of visitor’s chairs in front of it. My first impression of him was that not much had changed since I’d seen him last. But then, a nice tan can fool you. When he opened his mouth, I notice the bottom front teeth were a little cruddy, the lines around his mouth digging deeper into the cheeks and toward the ears. He still, had a great preppy haircut, though, most of the strands more brown than gray.
    “What the—Cuddy?“
    “Your secretary gave us the impression you were flat out, so why don’t we just get to it.“
    Winningham stood up, shooting his cuffs even though he wasn’t wearing a suit jacket, trying to seize control. “John Francis Cuddy. The ‘John F. Danucci’ message. Hilarious.“
    Hilarious. Four syllables. Some things never change.
    Winningham turned to Zuppone. “And who might you be?“
    Primo moved forward comfortably, taking a chair and making a ritual out of fitting a toothpick into his mouth. “Let’s just say I’m a guy who don’t need no introduction.“
    Zuppone let that go around the room a bit before adding, “The Danucci family, they ain’t crazy about you fucking around here, Bradley.“
    The tan faded, the flesh beneath it a tad doughy. “What... What do you...?“
    I said, “We want to have a little talk with you, Brad. Without benefit of tape-recording or other memorialization.“
    At that point, Winningham’s secretary and two guys in rent-a-cop outfits and sidearms came into the room behind us.
    She said, “Mr. Winningham, these men just barged past me—“
    “I know, Louise.“
    “Do you want them removed?“
    It was still Louise who spoke. The guards, after a quick study of Primo and me, didn’t seem all that keen. Winningham looked like a man having trouble toting up the score.
    Zuppone said, “We could always talk later, Bradley.“
    Primo didn’t make any attempt to move, and there was no doubt that Winningham had a bad feeling about what “later“ might mean.
    “No. Er, Louise, that will be all.“
    The rent-a-cops exhaled, but the secretary didn’t seem so sure. “Mr. Winning—“
    “No, really, Louise. It’s all right.“
    She showed her disapproval but left with the uniforms, closing the door behind her.
    Winningham tried a recovery. “Very well. Cuddy, why don’t you take a seat so we can—“
    Zuppone said, “Sit down, Bradley.“
    Winningham wiped his hands on his thighs and sat. I took the chair next to Primo.
    Zuppone said, “Cuddy?“
    I waited until Winningham looked over at me. “Brad, I think you really stepped in it this time.“
    “What—“
    I held up my hand. “You get a claim. You recognize the changed name. You think, ‘Hey, be jolly fun, Cuddy chasing his tail, thinking he was doing a favor for old Harry Mullen. Maybe Cuddy gets his tit in the wringer with a mob family.’ That would really—what did you call it. Brad? ‘Effectuate reparations’?“
    Primo said, “That what you called it, Bradley?“
    Winningham shook a little.
    “Well,“ I said, “we have a problem, Brad. The family is less than amused by your sense of humor. They think the death of one of their children is kind of a sore subject for practical jokes.“
    Primo said, “Listen to the man, Bradley.“
    Every time Zuppone spoke, it took a few words of mine before Winningham could look from Primo back to me.
    “Brad, the time with that casualty claim, just before you edged me out of a job? That’s nothing compared to this. When that happened, I thought about maybe putting on a sandwich board and standing out on the sidewalk with a cowbell, letting the passing public know what you’d pulled. But then it was just between you and me, Brad. Now, the oil’s aboiling.“
    Zuppone said, “You ever see anything boiled in oil, Bradley?“
    Winningham’s Adam’s apple bobbed for the knot in his tie.
    Time to throw the lifesaver. “So, here’s what we’re going to do, Brad. Brad?“
    Winningham came back to me.
    “First, we’re going to sign off on the death claim on Mau Tim Dani. Paid in full after concluding investigation.“
    He said, “I can do that. Tomorrow, there’s—“
    Primo said, “Today, Bradley.“
    Winningham nodded.
    I said, “Second, we’re going to maintain Harry Mullen as Head of Claims Investigation/Boston for—“
    Winningham’s eyes bugged. “I can’t