The Dogfather

can have fun in the sand.
    “I’ll do the photo for you, Kevin. Sorry. I forgot.”
    “Let’s get to Joey C.”
    “Okay. Well, let’s really back up. When Guarini got out of prison, there was a lot of speculation in the news that Blackie Lanigan was going to welcome the opportunity to get rid of Guarini—that Blackie’d come back to Boston. It seemed to me that the media were probably using Guarini’s release as an excuse to do more “Where’s Blackie?” stories. But Guarini seemed to take the idea seriously. At any rate, he was fairly paranoid about being in public. He refused to take Frey, his puppy, to classes, and he wouldn’t even let me take Frey to puppy kindergarten. But it’s impossible to get a dog used to people and noise and so on without exposing him to public places. And Frey really needed that exposure. He was nervous about ordinary stimuli. Bicycles.” I took a break to eat. “Also, the point was to have Frey listen to his owner and not just to me. Guarini understood all this. He agreed to meet me near Loaves and Fishes so he could work with Frey in back of the mall, without a lot of distractions, and in front, where there were shopping carts and people. He showed up with his two bodyguards—not the twins, the other two—and Zap, Favuzza, and Joey. So, the dog training went very well.”
    “Hey, so what’s the problem?”
    “The problem is, was, became evident when Guarini and I got back to where we’d parked the cars, and there was Joey Cortiniglia’s dead body. He’d been shot in the head. That’s when the horrible twins turned up. They moved Joey’s body into a car. A Suburban. Someone mentioned Blackie. And Guarini said he wanted a name. Why, I don’t know. Why would he care which hit man Blackie had used? Or maybe he thought the killer wasn’t Blackie at all. He didn’t confide in me. But everyone did seem to assume that the real target was Guarini, that killing Joey was a way of getting to him. Anyway, Guarini told me that none of it had happened, and he sent me home. Next thing I knew, Joey had died of a heart attack, and there I was at his funeral.”
    “Guarini maybe didn’t want to take the credit himself?”
    “That’s what Deitz thinks. Or what he hints at. I’ll get to him. So after Joey’s funeral, I thought I had things under control. Not everything. But my involvement. I’d train Guarini’s dog, he’d be happy, and he’d disappear from my life. Meanwhile, he was sending people to me for help with their dogs. Joey’s widow, among others. Carla. She and Guarini have something going. She’d always wanted to be a florist, and Guarini bought her a flower shop, and not just as a way of taking care of a gangland war widow, either. But I did a good job with the dog problems. I’m good at that.”
    “I’m sure you are.”
    “And when I’m that motivated, I’m really good. Then on Saturday, this past Saturday, my plan went to pieces.” I fortified myself for confessing my shame by digging into the linguine. Italian food honestly is comfort food. “You may not think that this is any big deal, Kevin, but it is to me.” Between bites and swallows, I told him about the show: the attempt to influence the judge and my horror at my betrayal of sportsmanship and friendship. “I’ll never know whether Kimi won fairly or not. It makes me sick to think that because of me, Mary and Leah had contact with these... criminals. I feel as if I’ve infected so many good people with this disease of mine—Harry Howland, Mary Wood, Mr. Wookie, Leah, Kimi, Rowdy. At the show, it was absolutely clear that Favuzza intended to do me a favor—making sure my dog won. I think that it was his idea and not Guarini’s, but—”
    “Guarini didn’t send you any presents?”
    “Oh, yes he did. Kevin, I infected you, too! The steak you ate at my party on Saturday, the wine you drank, those were presents from Enzio Guarini. I should’ve asked him to pay me to begin with. But not me! I didn’t want to touch his dirty money. I was too noble.” I practically buried my face in my pasta.
    “He didn’t send cold cuts? That’s his usual.”
    “He’s more grateful to me than that. For training Frey. And also I’m helping Carla Cortiniglia with her dog, Anthony, and let me tell you, Anthony acts like a little monster. Or did. Guarini could never put up with a dog like that for long. I think that his agenda is that I get Carla’s dog shaped up, and then the romance can