I anchor and tie off. Stellan’s waiting at the end of the dock with two coffees. I accept one and drink deeply. “When’s the last time you went on body disposal duty yourself?” he asks casually as we walk toward the path that winds back into the city.
“Not that long ago. A couple years back.”
“You’re getting soft.”
“Ah, go to hell. You’re a paper-pusher these days, boss.”
Stellan laughs good-naturedly and gestures toward the Art Museum. “You know, I love this part of the city. It’s not authentic Philly. It’s not the parts we grew up in. This is the tourist shit. But it’s the best of us.”
“Hope that’s not true.”
“Come on, look at this place. Filled with treasures and life and people.”
“I prefer the back alleys. I like the streets stinking with fresh bread early in the morning as the old bakers do their thing.”
“Less and less of those these days.”
I stop at a street corner. “You meet me this early to talk about how the city’s changing?”
He gazes toward the big buildings downtown and sighs. “That’s the thing though. It’salwayschanging, and it’s going to change even more. Did you hear how many men have flocked over from the Fontana outfit yet?”
“Last I heard it was around ten or so.”
“Now we’re up to twenty. Three Capos too, big shots, all complaining they hadn’t gotten paid out in full for months. Your friend Alfonso’s bringing them to me in fucking droves.”
“You trust them?”
“I don’t trust anyone, you know that, but they want to start earning again. We’ll put them somewhere safe.” He glances at me sidelong. “Maybe you could deal with it.”
I rub the back of my head. “This is my punishment, isn’t it?”
“Among other things, yes. You’re going to make sure these Fontana fuckers aren’t a problem. You’re going to weed out the ones who make trouble and promote the ones who are serious. Do it on merit.”
“Is there any other way?”
“There are too many fucking ways.”
The light changes and we start moving again. I catch sight of Stellan’s bodyguards keeping their distance, acting like regular guys out for a walk, but I know their faces. I wonder what it’s like, never being alone. He probably hates it. He would’ve despised it back in the day.
Stellan’s a good man though, even if he is dumping a pile of shit in my lap.
I more than earned it.
“I need to ask you something.” We’re getting closer to the Parkway now. More people are out. Bikers glide past, joggers stomp along. A young mom pushes her baby in a stroller at a power walk. Ahead, crowds are already forming around the Rocky statue.
“I figured you would.”
“Old man Fontana. He’s still alive.”
“You know the outfit’s finished, right? Now that the rats are abandoning ship, it won’t survive much longer. You don’t need to do anything to him but wait.”
“I know that.”
“You’re still going to ask me, aren’t you?”
“Let me kill him, Stellan.”
He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “No.”