'What's happenin', Streak?' he said.

'Are you losing your mind?'

'Harsh words, noble mon. Lighten up.'

'That's Nate Baxter out there. He'd like to paint the woodwork with both of us.'

'That's why I didn't go out there. Some of those other guys don't like PI's, either.' He looked at his watch and tapped on the crystal with his fingernail. 'You want a Dr Pepper?'

'I want us both to walk out of here. We're going to throw your piece in front of us, too.'

'What's the hurry? Have a Dr Pepper. I'll put some cherries and ice in it.'

'Clete-'

'I told you, everything's copacetic. Now, disengage, noble mon. Nobody rattles the old Bobbsey Twins from Homicide.' He took a hit from the shot glass, sucked on his sliced lime, and smiled at me.

'It's time to boogie, partner,' I said.

He looked again at his watch.

'Give it five more minutes,' he said, and smiled again.

He started to refill his glass from a large, square, brown bottle that he held in his hand. I placed my palm lightly on his arm.

'Look, let me give you the big picture, noble mon,' he said. 'I'm involved with a lady friend these days. She's a nice person, she never hurt anybody, she's intelligent, she goes part-time to the Ju-Co, she also strips in a T and A joint on Bourbon owned by the Calucci brothers. We're talking about Max and Bobo here, Dave, you remember them, the two guys we ran in once for pulling a fingernail off a girl's hand with a pair of pliers? Before I met Martina, my lady friend, she borrowed two grand off the Caluccis to pay for her grandmother's hospitalization. So when she didn't make the vig yesterday, Max, the bucket of shit I put through the window glass, called her in this morning and said it was time for her to start working out of the back of a taxicab.'

He took off his porkpie hat, combed his sandy hair straight back on his head, clipped the comb in his shirt pocket, and put his hat back on.