Initially, I found this a little difficult to swallow. Millie was there, however, and verified it and she is not prone to exaggeration. So, it must be true.

After that friendly visit from the government Anthony "Doo Wop" DeAngelo turned out precisely one "vintage" painting per month. The master works were then sold privately through a network of dealers. Surprise, surprise, the price of these works of art always managed to remain under ten thousand dollars.

This is how he supported his family for the next thirty or so years. There was, however, one small exception. And now, it was missing.

"Millie," I ask, "What can I do?"

"Find whoever did this. Find Number 37."

I leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I will."

I went down the stairs in search of Anthony, Jr. Found him near the front door. Put out my hand and inquired about the funeral arrangements. He filled me in and I turned to leave. Walking out the front door, over my shoulder I said, "I'll be in touch" turned left and headed for the car.

On the way out I ran into Joey Amato.

"How are you holding up son?"

Joey is Doo-Wop's nephew on his wife's side. Some of the family on that side belongs to the bent nose brigade.

"Not so good Uncle Pick." Joey's in his early twenties. He's average height, well proportioned with black hair combed straight back and dark brown eyes. I've known him since he was a little boy. His uncle and aunt took him in when his father was murdered from a bomb detonated in his car. Rumor has it that it was Uncle Carmine that was behind the killing. Family business, supposedly.

Doo Wop was teaching Joey the family business. Joey bought the supplies for the paintings, took the photographs and maintained the web site. When Doo Wop did antique shows it was Joey that did the setting up and breaking down. In short, Joey did whatever needed to be done. Sort of an old world apprenticeship.