Just then an idea hit me.
“Better still, figure out some way of passing it around to those people who have been complaining that they can’t pay their taxes.”
Guido frowned and glanced at his cousin again.
“I dunno, Boss,” he said carefully. “It don’t seem right, somehow. I mean, we’re supposed to be collectin’ taxes from people . . . not givin’ it to them.”
“What Guido means,” Nunzio put in, “is that our speciality is extracting funds from people and institutions. Givin’ it back is a little out of our line.”
“Well then I guess it’s about time you expanded your horizons,” I said, unmoving. “Anyway, that’s the assignment. Understand?”
“Yes, Boss,” they chorused, still looking uneasy.
“And remember, not a word about this to the rest of the team.”
“If you say so, Boss.”
As I’ve said, the bag was heavy enough to have given me trouble carrying it, but Guido gathered it up easily with his one good hand, then stood hefting it for a moment.
“Umm . . . Are you sure you want to do this, Boss?” he said. “It don’t seem right, somehow. Most folks would have to work for a lifetime to earn this much money.”
“That’s my point,” I muttered.
“Huh?”
“Never mind,” I said. “I’m sure. Now do it. Okay?”
“Consider it done.”
They didn’t quite salute, but they drew themselves up and nodded before they headed for the door. I recalled they had been working with the army for a while, and guessed that it had rubbed off on them more than they realized.
After they had gone, I leaned back and savored the moment.
I actually felt good! It seemed that I had found a solution to at least one of my problems.