For Ian now, there was only one small cloud on his horizon, Sal Ferrara. 14
Sal Ferrara sat in his large house in Queens downing a slug of whiskey. Angry about the way things turned out with Ian Sullivan, he decided to get good and drunk before he put his plan into action. If I can’t have Ian, no one can. How could I have known that Ian would go to work the day after the funeral? Once Ian saw that fancy house, I knew I was in trouble. I know I’d go for the main chance. All my plans down the shitter. He lit a cigarette and got up from the littered sofa and gazed about for an empty ashtray. He couldn’t find one, so he dumped the contents of the one he had into a bag that had held his takeout dinner.