I usually get into my office by nine AM. My secretary, Shirley, opens the place up at 8:30 and listens to messages before I get there. Yesterday when I arrived, Shirley told me that I received a call from Louie Mansicalco, a name I recognized as one of the late Fat Sal Camorota’s soldiers. The call made me was nervous. Several weeks ago, Fat Sal had bought a bullet and his body was found inside the trunk of a car parked at Stewart Airport in New Paltz. Nobody knew what his killing was about. There was no war between the families, no one was talking and there seemed to be no reason for a hit on Fat Sal. I was nervous because I knew everything about Fat Sal’s death and I believed that no one knew about my involvement. I met Fat Sal several years ago and had done him…