Callahan
The expression on Diamente's face is a grim one as he walks into my study.
"It's late," I say, looking at my watch although I know what time it is. He's made a point of arriving when no one else would be here.
"Whiskey?"
"Yeah," he says, surprising me. He doesn't drink when doing business and there's no doubt this is business. He sets the thick envelope he brought with him on the desk, unbuttons the button of his tailor-made suit and takes a seat. "A double."
I study him as I pour a glass for him and refresh mine. Something has him ruffled. He was one of the people Antonio called when he found us that morning after the m******e.
I still think about that. About what it must have been like for my brother to be greeted by that horror.
He'd gone out the night before. Snuck off
