He pivots to face me and waits. It’s been four years since the stroke. For six months he wasn’t able to speak. Gradually he learned to produce sounds, although at first his slur was so bad that even his full-time nurse couldn’t understand what he was saying. With untold hours of practice and treatment, he’s trained himself to speak again. He talks slower than he used to, and occasionally he’ll stumble on a word, but he’s more coherent than he has any right to be. The doctors didn’t think he’d survive the first year. I guessed differently. Death will have to go a full twelve rounds with Ford Tasso before it forces him out of the ring.

“How’s life?” I ask.

“Not bad. Still in sex therapy. I sustained an erection for three minutes a couple of days ago. My best yet.”

“Still refusing Viagra?” I grin.

“I don’t mess with voodoo shit like that. Don’t need it.”

“Why are you worried about your staying power anyway?” I ask. “Not like you’re going to get any action here.”

“I like to be prepared for anything,” he sniffs, then fixes me with his left eye (he lost sight in his right but refuses to wear a patch). “Enough of the crap. What’s wrong?”

“You heard about Gico?”

“Him and Cathal killed you and seized control. Didn’t last long.”

“They never do, but that’s not the point. Gico and Cathal were two of my best. I thought I could rely on them.”

“Maybe they got greedy,” Ford suggests, rubbing the flesh of his gray right wrist. His circulation is poor down the right. He has to work on his muscles continuously when he’s by himself.

“No,” I mutter. “Fear motivated them. They thought I wasn’t in control. They saw me as a weak link. If my closest aides don’t have faith in me…”

Ford nods slowly. “I’d heard things weren’t so hot. Tell me more.”

I fill him in on all that’s transpired since my last visit two years ago. The city’s heading for riots. Old gangs have splintered, new gangs have formed, fighting is rife. I’ve tried holding things together, but they refuse to pay heed. I’m the most powerful force in the city but I’m not obeyed as Dorak was. People fear me, but they don’t respect me.