“I don’t know what you mean,” Frank says. And who says “chick” anymore?

“Didn’t Mousedick Junior tell you?” Vince says. “I’m on a boat. Here in San Diego.”

“A boat?”

“A cabin cruiser,” Vince says. “I’m renting it.”

“It’swinter, Vince.”

“A friend of ours cut me a deal.”

Classic wise guy, Frank thinks. Long as they think they’re getting a deal, they’ll go for it. So you got a cheap shakedown artist on a boat he can’t use, in the rain.

Classic.

He knows what’s coming next.

Vince doesn’t disappoint him. “So if the boat is rockin’,” Vince says, “don’t come knockin’.”

“Finish your beers,” Frank says. “Then let’s go get this straightened out.”

He goes into the kitchen, opens a drawer, and takes out an envelope. Then he comes back into the living room, counts ten thousand out from the fifty, puts it in the envelope, and slides it into his jacket pocket.

“What are you doing?” Mouse Junior asks.

“Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?” Frank asks. “You never go to a person’s empty-handed.”

In the same spirit, he checks the load on his. 38 and slips it in the waistband of his slacks, underneath the back of his coat. He looks at the boys. “Are you carrying?”

“Sure.”

“Absolutely.”

“Leave the hardware in the car,” Frank says.

When they start to object, he says, “Something goes south-which I don’t expect, but it might-the last thing I want is one of you blowing my brains out by accident. If the stuff hits the fan, you hit the deck and stay there until it gets real quiet and you hear me telling you to get up. You don’t hear me telling you to get up, it’s because you’re dead, and then it doesn’t make any difference anyway. And you letme do the talking. Capisce? ”

“Got it.”

“Absolutely.”

“And quit saying ‘absolutely,’” Frank tells Travis. “It annoys me.”