“So he was hot stuff.”

“More than that, Mario, for the past twenty years he’s been Belfast Bureau Chief and that’s no desk job, not with the IRA and all those other problems. Now he has Eastern Europe on his back. Bosnia, Serbia, Kosova, Albania, and we know who has the greatest input.”

“The Russian Mafia.”

“Exactly, and as they are not our friends we can help there. In return, Chavasse will help us.”

“When possible?”

“Of course. Look, I suspended all drug operations there years ago and not for moral reasons as you well know. If idiots want to kill themselves with heroin that’s their affair. We make more out of cigarette smuggling from Europe into Britain than we ever would have with drugs.”

“Still illegal.”

“Yes, but as you being an expert in English law know, a drug runner pulls ten or twelve years. Get done, as the English say, for cigarette smuggling and what would your client get?”

“Twelve months and out in six.” Marco Volpe smiled. “Still illegal, running cigarettes by the millions up the Thames, so where does that leave Sir Paul Chavasse?”

“Exactly as he is. A realist. We’re not destroying the lives of stupid teenagers. We aren’t harming the widows and orphans. He can live with that as long as we provide the expertise on Eastern Europe that he needs. You’ll see that we do.”

“Of course, Uncle.”

“Good boy.” The Don nodded. “You take care of things. Tell Sir Paul I’ll see him later for dinner at the Saddle Room. You’d better go now, you and Aldo, to make sure he gets here in one piece.”

“Uncle.”

Mario Volpe went out. Rain battering the window, Don Tino reached for his unfinished glass of champagne. Such a clever boy. All the virtues really and yet capable of such stupidity. He swallowed the champagne, got up and walked out leaning on his Malacca cane.

WHEN CHAVASSE EMERGED FROM THE PLAZA Hotel it was raining slightly. He wore a Burberry trenchcoat in dark blue and an old-fashioned rain hat slanted across his head. Inside, the Colt.22 rested in a special clip. Uncomfortable, but also comforting in its own way. Just a feeling, but that’s why he was still here after all these years. He declined the offer of a cab from the doorman, went down the steps and started along Fifth Avenue.