The Dogfather

profession, but her calling in life; she always felt spiritually compelled to ask personal questions and was constitutionally incapable of believing that something—anything—could be none of her damned business. When Zap had stopped the limo, Al Favuzza had stepped out and held the door for me. Even more than Guarini himself or any of his other henchmen, Al Favuzza looked like a mobster. He looked more like a mobster than he did like a vampire, and that’s saying something. Naked, right out of the shower, Favuzza probably looked as if he were carrying a concealed weapon. I wouldn’t have put it past him to do just that. Ugh. Let’s skip over the possibilities.
    Adopting Rita’s tone, I said, “It’s a new hobby of mine. I’ve overcome my phobia. Now I flit from funeral to funeral without a twinge of the old panic. As you’ve no doubt observed, the transportation is nothing short of elegant, and I am becoming a connoisseur of floral tributes.”
    “I like your dress,” Rita said. “It’s so cheerful and springlike.” Rita wore a yellow linen suit with good shoes. She is so un-Cambridge. I’m one Cambridge type: denim and T-shirts. Another is ethnic: Peruvian hats. Another is expensive jersey drapery with chunky handcrafted jewelry. Rita is pure New York: style before comfort.
    I fingered the dowdy black corduroy. “ ‘April is the crudest month,’ you know.”
    “May I ask what you’ve been up to?”
    “A pun! May. April. Rita, how unlike you!”
    “You’re avoiding something. Black dress, Cadillac limousine. Bela Lugosi Meets the Godfather ?”
    Rita’s professional time may truly be worth what she charges for it. “Do not mention any of this to Kevin. And do not tell Steve, either. Don’t tell anyone. You want some coffee? Lunch?”
    One of Rita’s patients had canceled, so she had time to accept my invitation. When I’d let the dogs out into the fenced yard, made coffee, seated Rita at my kitchen table, and spread it with sandwich fixings, I told her the entire story of my association with Enzio Guarini. I wasn’t about to waste the free availability of Rita’s expensive therapeutic ear by spilling anything less than the full, absolute truth. I omitted not one single thing... except the small matter of Joey Cortiniglia’s manner of death. Guarini had told me that it hadn’t happened. Therefore, it hadn’t.
    Rita isn’t normally the kind of therapist—or friend— who limits herself to um-ing and nodding and asking how you feel about things. Consequently, I was surprised when she asked how I felt. To be specific, she said, “Enzio Guarini is a notorious criminal. He is a racketeer and a loan shark and a multiple murderer, for a start, and the only reason he’s out of jail is corruption in the Boston office of the FBI. How do you feel about accepting money from a person like that?”
    “Rita, I am helping him with his puppy. You make it sound as though I’ve switched from dog training to contract killing. What I am is Dog, Incorporated, not Murder, Incorporated,” In case you, too, wondered, let me state that as a matter of pride, I hadn’t taken Guarini’s money. “Since when did you become so big on inducing guilt?”
    “Holly, that’s blood money. It’s ill-gotten gains.”
    I chose not to tell Rita that I was a volunteer. “Rita, my car is falling to pieces. It is a hazard and an embarrassment. I have two big dogs to feed, not to mention myself.”
    “Such martyrdom! And when did you suddenly start earning a living by training other people’s dogs?”
    “I’ve helped people with their dogs before.”
    “People who adopted dogs from Malamute Rescue. Do you charge those people?”
    “No, but I’ve coached people who were starting to show in obedience.”
    “A handful of times.”
    “I am perfectly qualified.”
    “Of course you are. This isn’t a matter of qualifications. It’s a matter of ethics. Holly, why would you have anything to do with scum like Enzio Guarini?”
    “I’m scared to death of him.”
    “Talk to Kevin.”
    “No! Look, Rita, I can handle this. I have a plan. I just go along with Guarini. I train his puppy, Frey. I help Guarini to work with Frey. Guarini actually knows a lot about dogs. It’s just that the puppy has more energy than he does, and Guarini’s approach is old-fashioned. When it comes to puppy training, he’s out of date.”
    “I wonder why that is,” Rita said snidely.
    I ignored the remark. “And once the puppy is