“So he’s not in the phone book or the city directory.” Ryan turned back to the counter, but Jay Walt’s hand remained on his arm.

“A lot of people aren’t. But this guy, he doesn’t even have a credit record. Can you imagine that today, no credit record? Not even a rotten one. I put some of my guys on it, that’s as far as those shitheads could go, phone book and a credit check. It’s going to take a pro, I can see that. So who do I think of first, immediately?”

“What’d the guy do?”

“He didn’t do anything. There’s nothing illegal, it’s a business thing. Client of mine, guy I do business with, wants to find him. Why would you have to know anything about it? You understand?”

“How much?”

Jay Walt finally let go of Ryan’s arm. He took a sip of coffee and touched a napkin to his mouth. “Guarantee you a hundred and a half for three days. No, shit, say two days. You’re fast, the way you work. You don’t locate him in two days, you get paid anyway and we talk about it some more, see if there’s any point in continuing.”

“This client of yours-he pays the bills?”

“Sure he does, he’s looking for the guy, I’m not. I’m helping him out strictly as a favor.”

Ryan got out his notebook. “How do you spell his name? The guy I’m looking for.”

“Robert Leary. L-e-a-r-y. Junior. J-u-n-i-o-r.” Jay Walt glanced over to see if the girl next to him was listening, appreciating him. She was biting into a club sandwich, then wiped some mayonnaise from the corner of her mouth. “Last known address 146 Arden Park.”

Ryan looked at him with a question.

“I know,” Jay Walt said, “it’s all colored down there now, but it’s still a pretty good street-big houses, mansions. I think a lot of colored doctors must live there, or else it’s all whorehouses, I don’t know.”

Ryan was sure the girl was still listening. Dumb guy. That’s what it was, not his confidence, he was just dumb, he didn’t have any feelings. Ryan said, “When did Robert Leary, Jr., live there? How long ago?”