The next morning, Connor had to somehow bring up the topic of Smecker's plan without alluding directly to the fact that Smecker actually had a plan. He settled with leaving the newspaper out, open on the Richardson article. And Murphy fell perfectly into place, picking up the paper and flipping it open. Connor waited.
"Hey, Con, have you seen this?" Murphy said. "This Richardson guy, wasn't he around, like, two, three years ago?"
Connor peered at the phtograph – Giuseppe Richardson was one scary looking thug. "Oh, yea… what's he in for?"
"Jesus Christ… seven murders this month."
"Seven?" Connor said incredulously. "No fucking way…"
"Aye, seven… what do you say we pay this mother fucker a visit?"
Connor saw the glint in Murphy's eye and knew his twin was hooked. "I dunno, Murph, maybe we should take this one slow…"
"Slow?" Murphy scoffed. "You're fucking with me. We take down mobsters for a living!"
"Aye, and last time we went too fast Rocco ended up dead!" Connor retorted.
He regretted the words as soon as they cam out. There was a long silence as both brothers felt a sharp pang in their chests.
"That's different," Murphy said quietly.
"Well, excuse me for not wanting to attend your funeral, too," Connor said moodily.
Murphy sighed. "Fine. So… taking it slow. How do you mean?"
Connor skimmed through the article. "Look, he's got two accomplices. We go for them first, then he's all by himself."
Murphy nodded. "Sounds like a plan."