Hate is Thicker Than Blood (2009)
“Huge. Plenty of cops, too. Should keep things cool if Frankie Nuzzo happened to spot him.
He’d parked the Cord a few blocks away. No sense flaunting it in Frankie’s face. Even from that distance, the funeral made its impact; people on the quiet street of small one-family houses hurrying in the direction of the church, little figures off in the distance melding into the enormous crowd that stood outside, gawking, and weeping.
Even most of the women among the onlookers outside the church were in black, The Hook saw, as he moved into the crowd. The Nuzzos were big news here, and bad news on occasion. The women took no chances about showing disrespect. The men, perhaps braver, perhaps less aware, were a more motley crew; some in their Sunday best, others bare-headed, even bare-armed, as they looked on.
He wove his way in and out of the crowd, moving toward the talkers, listening a while, and then, when it was obvious he’d learn nothing from them, edging to the next likely knot.
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