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“Hey,” he says to me, as Honeybee turns away. “Listen…I wanted to, you know. Apologize.”
It’s embarrassment more than anything that makes him stumble over the words, but I can see he means the apology, so I offer my hand. “Accepted. I know Bricker would appreciate one as well, if you’re in the mood.”
With a grim nod, Tank says, “I’d like to, if he’ll even talk to me after the shit I said yesterday.”
“Of course he will,” I tell him. “I’ll see if I can find him, let him know you want a word.”
The rain is threatening once more as I step outside with the heavy funk of incense still stuffing up my nose. I pull my jacket tighter around me against the unusual chill in the air as I spot Pony standing nearby, leaning against a low wall. His eyes are distant and he gives a little jump as I join him.
“Pony.” I nod, and he offers a weak attempt at a smile.
“Max. Hey.” His tone is subdued.
“We need to talk,” I begin, and he nods.
“I was going to say the same. I have more I need to tell you guys.” His voice drops an octave. “I hear you’re looking for a mole.”
This isn’t the time or place. “Meet Bricker and me at the bar later, alright? Say four o’clock.”
He nods, and I pat him on the shoulder before turning my attention to the church doors. As if on cue, Bricker emerges. His shoulders are hunched, mouth pinched. Something’s off.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as I walk over to join him.
Bricker shakes his head. “Nothing. I just had a talk with Van, is all.”
“And?” I prompt when he falls silent. “Did you ask him about the text he got?”
“It wasn’t the right time. But I don’t think he’s the mole.” Bricker meets my gaze, chin lifting as he reads my skepticism.
I have no doubt their friendship is clouding his view, but there’s no point getting into a debate here. “Alright. We should get going to the cemetery. Rest of the crew’s set out already—and Tank would like to clear the air, by the way.”
But even that doesn’t seem to soften the tight lines of his face. What the hell did Delligatti say to him? I fall into step with him and we make our way back to the car.
* * *
The burial is a bleak scene at the beginning, like all funerals. Bricker is one of the pallbearers, along with Marty Gargiulo and a few other guys I don’t recognize—Rook’s cousins, I find out later—and my arms are full of a shaking, streaming-eyed Honeybee, who does her best not to sob too loud as the ceremony goes on. Pony and Van have both disappeared, as have a lot of the higher-ups and other service attendees. A ways off, I catch sight of Johnny Jacopo standing there in his hat with a somber expression. He gives me a nod when he sees I’ve noticed him.
Once the burial’s done, I catch up with him while Tank and Bricker have a private word. But Jack has nothing more to tell me yet about the phone, except that he hopes to get some prints from it.
“So if you can get me some comparables, that’d help matters along.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Thanks for coming out, by the way,” I tell him.
“Yes,” a voice says behind me, and I turn to see Anna-Vittoria, followed by her Shadow, approaching us. “Thank you for coming, Signor Jacopo.”
“Don Castellani sends his respects, ma’am,” Jack says with a little bow of the head. “He didn’t want to intrude himself, but I’m here as his representative.”
“Va bene,” Anna-Vittoria says, and she even gives a little smile. The Boss is pretty good at the politics of these things, and it looks like he hit the right note here.
And when I rejoin Bricker, he seems a little lighter in the soul. I don’t need to ask how things went with Tank, because he’s still chatting with the guy, and the two of them are actually smiling a little as they exchange a memory of Rook. A painful sort of smile, but still a smile.
“You ready, Cap?” I ask. “I told Pony we’d meet up with him.”
“Sure,” he says, and when Tank tells him to come round tomorrow to the hospital to see Giddy, I know things are going to be alright between them.
“I’ll take that if you like,” I tell Tank, gesturing at the order of service pamphlet he’s been folding and unfolding in his hand. He gives it to me without even thinking much about it, and I take it carefully at the corner and pocket it.
First set of fingerprints for Jack. Now I just need everyone else’s.
