Roland wanted to get it straight in his mind. “This is Frank’s idea not Ed’s.”

“Like he left it in his will to Ed,” Vivian said. “Watch her so she doesn’t fool around with anyone, ever.”

“Jesus-” It was a hard proposition to understand, cutting the poor woman off like that. But then these guineas did all kinds of things that didn’t make sense. Serious little buggers with their old-timey ideas about honor, the omerta-no talking, man, keep your mouth shut-all that brotherhood bullshit.

Roland said, “It seems to me, an easier way-why don’t Ed tell her, no fooling around. Here’s what Frank wants, dead or not, and that’s the way it’s gonna be.”

“Why do you ask questions?” Vivian said. “Ed doesn’t like the idea but he’s doing it, uh? For his friend.”

“But he doesn’t want her to know.”

“He doesn’t want to be involved,” Vivian said. “The woman’s also a friend. He wants her to be happy, but he has to do this to her. So he gives it to you because he gave his word to Frank. But he doesn’t want to be involved in it personally. You understand now? God.”

“Who knows about the setup?”

“The three of us. See, he doesn’t even want to hear himself tell you about it. I have to tell you.”

“What about Jesus? He knows.”

“No, he thinks the woman is being protected.”

Roland liked that idea. He thought about it some more and said, “What’d Frank leave her?”

“None of your business.”

“I bet a big shit-pile of money,” Roland said. “And I bet that’s part of the deal. She starts putting out, she gets cut off, huh?”

“Pick up the tapes and listen to them,” Vivian said. “That’s all you got to do.” She rose from the table to walk over to her desk. It was not clean like Ed Grossi’s, it was a working desk with papers and file folders on it. Vivian picked up an envelope that was thick and sealed closed, no writing on it.