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“So.” Cold tilted his head and thought for a long moment. “What else?”

“What?”

“Keep going. Corman tells the Luchesis he can get me thrown in jail. He tells the cops about the body. But the cops still don’t have enough to make an arrest and I don’t go anywhere. So, what next?”

“Well, you said something about the Luchesis coming back to the city.” Jimmy sat up a little. “Maybe they were getting tired of waiting on Corman to deliver results and decided to make a move on their own. So they come back, organize the attacks. It wasn’t just the club, right? Some couriers were hit?”

Cold rolled his eyes, reserving comment on Jimmy’s obvious eavesdropping.

“And the couriers were Corman’s, so, either he was in on it,” Jimmy went on, the gears in his brain spinning rapidly, “or the Luchesis specifically targeted his guys to send a message to him for not being able to deliver yet.”

“Possibly,” Cold agreed. “And the attack last night?”

“I would need to know what the meeting was about.” Jimmy batted his eyelashes.

“Hmm. Well, I can tell you I’ve been in contact with Matteo Luchesi since the attacks. Smiled at his apologies and his bullshit. Promised him the return of his father’s ring for a peaceful little sit-down.”

“Okay, and they already think you killed Rafaello Luchesi, right?”

“Mm, I told him it was a recent acquisition.”

“Let’s say it was Corman who set up the attack on the meeting. He wants to get you out of the way for the Luchesis to move in. And he’s already betrayed them once before, so maybe he just wants everybody to go away now? Take over the city himself?”

“Not bad,” Cold said with an approving nod. “You’d make a decent detective if the lawyer gig doesn’t pan out, Mr. Poe.”

Jimmy laughed. “I’ve probably just been watching way too many movies. I mean, if I was a real detective, I’d know how Rafaello’s ring ended up in my mother’s jewelry box.”

“How indeed,” Cold said mysteriously.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m not sure I’m right yet. And to help you, to help your father, I have to be absolutely sure.”

Jimmy nodded but couldn’t hide his disappointment. He stared off, hesitating for a long moment. “I still think about her all the time,” he admitted quietly. “Do you… do you ever think about your mom?”

“Sometimes. But it’s hard to think about someone you never met.”

“I saw her pictures. She was beautiful.” Jimmy smiled. “You look so much like her.”

Cold seemed pleased with that. “Mm, definitely didn’t inherit the talent, that’s for sure. Did your mother sing?”

“All the time.” Jimmy grinned. “And God, she was so gorgeous. Like, I always used to think she looked like a movie star.”

“Mm.”

“I have pictures,” Jimmy said, trying not to sound too eager.

“Let’s see.” Cold chuckled, amused by Jimmy’s excitement.

Jimmy bounced off the bed to pick up the shoebox, and he grinned from ear to ear as he held it to his chest. He took out the jewelry box and set it on the bedside table before crawling back under the blankets with Cold.

Flipping through photographs, he stopped on one of him and his mother at a picnic David had taken, offering it out for Cold’s inspection. “That’s me and my mom.”

“She’s very beautiful, Jimmy. And this is you next to her?” Cold paused. “You were blond.”

“Thanks. And yeah! My hair was super light when I was a kid. It started getting darker, eh, around seventh grade I think.” He flipped through more pictures until he came to a portrait from his Little League days.

“Huh.” Cold glanced over the photograph.