“Faolan O’Connor had business to resolve before he died.”
Best intro ever!
Faolan O’Connor had business to resolve before he died.
The call he’d been waiting for came around eight. Charlie Luciano’s rough voice said: “It’s on for tonight. Chophouse in Newark.”
“Well, hello to you too, dear,” Faolan answered.
The chuckle on the other end of the line was as genuine as a three dollar bill. “Glad to see you ain’t lost your sense a’ humor,” Charlie said and Faolan heard the tension under the words. “Heard you was under the wedder. Sure ya feel up to this?”
“I’ll climb off my deathbed for this job. I owe Dutch.”
“That’s what I figured. Ten o’clock.” He hung up without saying goodbye. Faolan already knew that was the last conversation they’d ever have.
He dragged himself from his bed, trembling and aching, and dressed in his best olive suit. The tailored pants were baggy on him from all…
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