“Because you are being played by a man who isn’t even smart enough to hide his own tracks,” Romano said.

He shoved Vincenzo’s face toward the open lapel of Vincenzo’s own jacket.

Pinned to the wool was a small, black radio receiver.

A green light was blinking on it.

It was an open comm channel, connected to Tony’s main frequency.

I could hear the faint hiss of static coming from the small speaker.

“Speak into the radio, Vincenzo,” Romano said.

Vincenzo remained silent, his eyes bulging.

Romano pressed the gun harder under his jaw, forcing his head back.

“Speak,” Romano repeated. “Tell Marcus who gave the order.”

“I can’t,” Vincenzo gasped. “Tony will kill me.”

“I am going to kill you in three seconds if you don’t speak,” Romano said. “One.”

Vincenzo looked at the tall man, begging for help with his eyes.

The tall man simply stood there, his face expressionless under the black umbrella.

He did not offer to help.

He did not tell his men to fire.

He was waiting to see what would happen.

“Two,” Romano said.

“Okay! Okay!” Vincenzo screamed.