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He hung up the telephone and looked at Vito.
"He's coming right over. He said there was some kind of a mix-up, and he wants to make it right. It'll take him five, ten minutes. You got to be someplace else?"
Vito shook his head. "I really don't understand this," he said.
"Neither do I," Joe Fierello said. "So we'll have our cup of coffee, and in five, ten minutes, we'll both know."
****
Ten minutes later, a silver Jaguar drove up the driveway into Fierello Fine Cars, and stopped beside Joe Fierello's Mercedes-Benz. Paulo Cassandro, wearing a turtleneck sweater and a tweed sports coat with matching cap, got out of the back seat.
He looked toward the window of Joe Fierello's office.
"I think he wants you to come out there," Joe said.
Somewhat uncomfortable, but not quite sure why he was, Vito nodded at Joe Fierello and walked out of the building and down the stairs.
Joe Fierello opened the drawer of his desk, took out a 35-mm camera in a leather case, went to the window, and started snapping pictures.
"Mr. Lanza, I'm Paulo Cassandro," Paulo said. "I'm sorry about this."
"I don't understand," Vito said.
"We thought you were somebody else," Paulo said. "Lanza is a pretty common name. You, Mario the singer, and a lot of other people, right?"
"I guess so."
"I hate to tell you this," Paulo said, draping a friendly arm around Vito's shoulders, "but one of your cousins, maybe a second cousin, is a deadbeat. He owes everybody and his fucking brother. We thought it was you."
"I can't think of who that would be," Vito said.
"It doesn't matter. With a little bit of luck, you'll never run into him."
"Yeah," Vito said.
"We're sorry we made the mistake. We never should have bothered you or Joe with this. I hope you ain't pissed?"
"No. Of course not. I just want to make my markers good."
"There's no hurry. Take your time. Once we found out you wasn' tAnthony Lanza, we asked around a little, andyour credit is as good as gold."
"I always try to pay my debts," Vito said. "I like to think I got a good reputation."
"And now we know that," Paulo said. "So, whenever it's convenient, make the markers good. It don't have to be now. Next month sometime would be fine."
"Let me take care of them now," Vito said. "I already brung the cash."
"You don't have to, but if you got it, and it's convenient, that'd straighten everything out."
Vito handed him the six thousand dollars. Paulo very carefully counted it.
"No offense, me counting it?"
"No. Not at all."
"Watch the fifties, and the hundreds will take care of themselves, right?"
"Right."
