"Thanks, Frank," Balthazar Romano said as the glass of Alka-Selzer was set on his desk.
He had a throbbing headache. Ever since yesterday and that Boccelli kid and his fucked-up face things had seemed to be going steadily downhill. Between the Verbati fili di cagna* Rob giving him nothing to work with and Logan running into the maiale* Sandoval he had all the trouble he could handle right now.
Although things might be looking up on Saturday if everything worked out. He drank the fizzy drink and waited a second until the belches had stopped. Better, he thought, that settles things some. "Frank, have you heard from Tony yet?"
Frank shook his head, but didn't say anything. Frank was good muscle, but it unfortunately extended above his neck. "Did you call anyone?" Balthazar asked.
Frank pulled out his cell phone and started making calls. "I wish Logan was here," Balthazar murmured, "That boy can at least think."
Frank hung up the phone after a few minutes. "Tony's car was picked up in the Bronx and they got a body over there that ain't been identified yet," he said.
Then he stood there like a side of beef. "Well?" Balthazar asked.
"I should go and identify the body?" Frank said.
Balthazar waved his hands and Frank left. Then Balthazar looked through his desk for some aspirin. This was going to be a long day.
* Son of a dog
** pig
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