"First of all," said Kurtz, "what do you want in exchange for the information? Your e-mail mentioned getting something in return."

"Not really, Joseph. I said that I had a request to make of you in return. I assure you that I will be happy to give you the Farino information with no strings attached."

"Whatever," said Kurtz. "What's your request?"

Pruno coughed for a minute and pulled the newspapers and rags closer around him. The cold air coming in through the chinks and cracks in the packing-crate hovel was making Kurtz shiver and he was wearing a thick peacoat. "I wondered if you would be so kind as to meet with a friend of mine," said Pruno. "In your professional capacity."

"What professional capacity?"

"Investigator."

Kurtz shook his head. "You know I'm not a P.I. anymore."

"You investigated for the Farino family last year," said Pruno. The old man's wheezy, drug-addict's voice still carried more than a hint of a Bostonian accent.

"That was a scam I was part of," said Kurtz, "not an investigation."

"Nonetheless, Joseph, it would please me greatly if you would just meet with my friend. You can tell him yourself that you are no longer in the private investigation business."

Kurtz hesitated. "What's his name?"

"John Wellington Frears."

"And what's his problem?"

"I don't know precisely, Joseph. It is a private issue."

"All right," said Kurtz, imagining himself consulting with another wino. "Where should I find this John Wellington Frears?"

"Perhaps he could come to your office today? It would probably be better for my friend to come see you."

Kurtz thought of Arlene and the last time they'd had visitors at the office. "No," he said. "I'll be at Blues Franklin tonight until midnight. Tell him to meet me there. How will I know him?"

"He likes to wear vests," said Pruno. "Now, about this Angelina Farino query. What would you like to know?"