Detective

me first.”

2.
    I G OT UP , W ENT A ND sat behind my desk, and took out a pad of paper and a pencil. I had no real intention of taking notes. This was just my way of buying time. I composed myself, resigned myself to the situation, and raised my eyes to meet those of my potential client.
    I sighed. “All right,” I said, “tell me all about it.”
    Now that he had my attention, Albrect didn’t seem to know how to begin. He fidgeted. “I’m in trouble,” he said.
    “So you said.”
    He lowered his eyes. “I, uh, you gotta understand. I did some things.”
    He hesitated and looked at me for encouragement. I wasn’t about to give him any.
    “It’s hard to talk about,” he said.
    “So don’t,” I told him.
    “What?” he asked, startled.
    “I didn’t ask you to come here. I didn’t ask you to tell your story. You forced it on me. If you don’t want to tell it, that’s fine with me. I’m not going to drag it out of you. You want to talk, talk—otherwise get the hell out of here. I’ve got work to do.”
    His face purpled and for a moment I thought he was going to punch me in the nose. Then he exhaled and collapsed like a paper bag.
    “O.K.,” he said. “O.K., you’re right, let me tell you. It all started when I met—”
    I held up my hand. “No names.”
    “How the hell am I going to tell it if I don’t mention any names?”
    “Just leave out the names. Don’t tell me you met so-and-so, just tell me you met a guy.”
    “That’s going to be confusing.”
    “Why?”
    “Because there’s a lot of different guys.”
    “O.K., so give him a name.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Give him a name. Call him something. Just so long as it’s not his real name.”
    “Call him something?”
    “Yeah.”
    “What’ll I call him?”
    “Anything you want.”
    “O.K., I’ll call him—” He broke off. “This isn’t going to work.”
    “Why not?”
    “I’m not going to remember who is who.”
    “Sure you are. This is the first guy you’re talking about. Just give him a name you’ll remember.”
    “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
    “Just call him something you can’t forget.”
    “Like what?”
    “Dumbo.”
    “What?”
    “Dumbo. You know. Walt Disney. The flying elephant.”
    “What are you doing, kidding around?”
    “No, I’m not kidding around. I’m trying to get your story out of you and it doesn’t look like it’s going to be easy. I said call the guy ‘Dumbo’ because you have to refer to him and I know it’s a name you won’t forget. You gonna forget the name ‘Dumbo’? That gonna give you any problems?”
    “No.”
    “Good. Now tell me what Dumbo did.”
    He looked at me as if trying to decide if I were serious. He must have decided I was.
    “O.K. It all started when I met this guy, uh, Dumbo.” He hesitated over the name as if trying it. It must have been O.K., because he plunged right ahead. “He works at the company I work for. I didn’t know him very well—that is, I knew who he was, but I didn’t know him socially, just as a coworker, you know? But one day he mentioned that he was going to this poker game, and I have a weakness for poker, so I told him I was interested, and one thing led to another, and he invited me to go along. It was a friendly neighborhood game, low stakes, dollar-two, high-low game, you know what I mean.”
    “Only too well,” I told him, remembering what my wife had said not a week before when I’d come home from a friendly high-low, dollar-two game a hundred and forty-five bucks in the hole.
    “Well, this guy, Dumbo, was a regular at the game, and I started playing there pretty regular too, so I got to know him pretty well and we got to talking and he told me this game was O.K., but if I really wanted some action there was this place he knew about that was ‘the place to be,’ as he called it.”
    “A casino?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Here in the city?”
    “Yeah. I mean, I know it’s illegal, but, hell, the lottery’s legal, there’s OTB. If you go to Atlantic City gambling’s legal, but who’s got the time to go—”
    I stopped him. “Hey, I’m not your mother. I’m not shocked out of my mind that you’ve been gambling illegally in New York City. Stop trying to justify yourself and tell me what happened.”
    “Oh. Well, I went to this place. It’s a little place down in SoHo called—”
    “Hold it.” I held up my hand.
    “O.K. Right. You don’t want to know. So I went down to—” He broke