He said, "You know who I am?"

"Fix Farrell," I said.

"F.X." he said, "I don't like that nickname."

I said, "You want a slug of Murphy's Irish Whiskey?"

"Sure."

I handed him the bottle. He wiped the neck off automatically with the palm of his hand and took a slug. Then he handed me back the bottle.

"You a lush?" he said.

"No."

"I can't do business with no lush."

"Wouldn't that depend on the business?" I said.

Farrell shook his head. "Never mind that shit," he said. "I woulda heard if you was a lush."

I had a little more whiskey and offered him the bottle. He took it and drank some more. He had on a light gray overcoat with black velvet lapels and he was wearing a homburg. The hair that showed around the hat was gray. The shirt that showed above the lapels of the overcoat was white, with a pin collar and a rep stripe tie tied in a big windsor knot.

"I had you checked out, Spenser. You unnerstand? I bad my people look into you pretty thorough, and you come out clean."

"Yippee," I said.

"We're going to hire you."

He gave me back the bottle. What made his nose red was a fine network of broken veins.

"The city council?" I said.

He shook his head impatiently. "No, for crissake, the Alexander campaign committee. We want you to handle security for us."

"Meade Alexander? The congressman?"

"Yeah. They told me you were smart as a whip. Meade's running for the Senate, or don't you read the papers?"

"Only the funny stuff," I said. "Tank MacNamara, and the City Council proceedings."

I drank a little more whiskey.

"Sure, sure," Farrell said, "you want the job?"

"Security," I said.

"Security. We've had some death threats and they're probably some left wing crackpot, but Browne's connected, so you gotta pay some attention."

"Browne? Alexander's opponent?"

"Yeah, Robert Browne."