"Oh, this and that," Kelp said.
"One thing and the other, huh?"
"More or less," Kelp agreed.
"Same old thing, in other words."
"In a manner of speaking," Kelp said.
"Well, you're looking good," Bernard told him. "Whatever you're up to, it agrees with you."
"You look good, too," Kelp said, and the drinks arrived. "Ah, the bribe," Bernard said. He swigged down half his Rob Roy, beamed, patted his belly, and said, "There. Now we can talk."
"Good." Kelp leaned closer over the white tablecloth. "I need a guy's name and address."
"Wait a minute," said Bernard. "You want to pick my brains, or you want to pick Police Department records?"
"Both."
"Andy, fun's fun, but maybe you're about to overstep, you know what I mean?"
Kelp was uncertain on that score himself, and the uncertainty made him nervous. He put away a bit more of his second bourbon and soda, and said, "If you say no, it's no. I wouldn't argue with you, Bernard." He tried a friendly grin. "And I wouldn't ask for the spaghettini back either."
"Or the Rob Roy," Bernard said, and finished it. Then he said, "Okay, Andy, try it on me, and if I say no there won't be any hard feelings on either side."
"That's what I like to hear." Kelp cleared his throat, and blinked several times.
Bernard pointed at Kelp's face. "Whenever you blink a lot like that," he said, "you're about to tell a lie."
"No, I'm not," Kelp said, blinking furiously.
"So let's hear it," Bernard said.
Kelp willed his eyelids to remain up. His eyes began to burn. Looking with great sincerity through his burning eyes at Bernard, he said, "What I'm about to tell you is the absolute truth."
"Relax, Andy," Bernard told him. "Nobody says I have to believe you. If it's a good story, I'll do what I can."
"Fair enough," Kelp said, and permitted himself to blink. "I have this cousin," he said, blinking, "and he's got himself in hot water with some people."
"Would I know these people?"
"For your sake," Kelp said, "I hope not."
"You worry about me. That's nice."
"Anyway," Kelp went on, "you know me, you know my family, we've never been violence-prone."
"That's true," Bernard said. "That's one of the nice things about you, Andy."
"My cousin's the same way. Anyway, he has the idea these people put a hitman on him."
Bernard looked interested. "Really? Does he want police protection?"
"Excuse me, Bernard," Kelp said, "but from what I can see, all police protection ever does for anybody is they get to fall out the window of a better class hotel."
"We won't argue the point," Bernard said, which was what he said any time he lacked arguments on his own side. "Tell me more about your cousin."
"He wants to do his own protecting," Kelp said. "And in order to do it, he has to identify this guy for sure. Now, he knows some things about him, but he doesn't have the guy's name and address. That's where we need help."
Bernard looked somber. He said, "Andy, maybe now you should tell me the truth. Is this cousin of yours figuring to hit the hitman? Because if so, I can't–"
"No no no!" Kelp said, and his eyes didn't blink at all. "I told you, Bernard, non-violence, it's an old family tradition. There's more than one way to skin a cat."
"They all leave the cat dead."
"I swear to God, Bernard," Kelp said, and actually raised his hand in the Boy Scout pledge. "My cousin strictly wants to know for sure who the guy is, and his dealing with the problem will absolutely one hundred per cent not include physical violence."
"He wants to outbid the other side?"
"I have no idea what's in my cousin's mind," Kelp said, blinking like mad.
"All right," Bernard said. "Tell me what you know about the guy."
"He's white," Kelp said. "He's tall, skinny, black haired, he's got a game leg. The right foot's in a big orthopedic shoe, and he limps. Also, he got picked up for something late in October, I don't know for what, and a very famous lawyer called J. Radcliffe Stonewiler got him off."
Bernard frowned deeply. "You know a lot of funny details about this guy," he said.
"Please, Bernard," Kelp said. "Don't ask me where I get my information, or I'll have to make up some cockamamie lie, and I'm no good at that."
"Oh, Andy," Bernard said, "you underestimate yourself." And the food and wine arrived. "Nice," Bernard said. "Let's eat a while, and I'll think about this."
"Great idea," said Kelp.
So they ate, and they drank wine, and at the end of the meal Bernard said, "Andy, can you promise me, if I get you anything on this bird, nothing illegal will happen?"
Kelp stared at him. "Nothing illegal? Bernard, you can't be serious. Do you have any idea just how many laws there are?"
"All right," Bernard said, patting the air. "All right."
But Kelp had momentum, and couldn't stop all at once. "You can't walk down the street without breaking the law, Bernard," he said. 'Every day they pass new laws, and they never get rid of any of the old laws, and you can't live a normal life without doing things illegal."
"Okay, Andy, okay. I said okay, didn't I?"
"Bernard, just off the top of your head, how many laws would you say you broke so far today?"
Bernard pointed a stern finger across the table. "Lay off, Andy," he said. "Now I mean it."
Kelp stopped, took a deep breath, got hold of himself, and said, "I'm sorry. It's a subject that's close to my heart, that's all"
Bernard said, "Let me rephrase it, Andy, okay? No major crimes. No, wait, you'll be talking about industrial pollution in a minute. No violent crimes. Is that a fair request?"
"Bernard," Kelp said, with solemnity, "it is not my intention, or my cousin's intention, to harm one hair of this fellow's head. He won't get killed, he won't get wounded. All right?"
"Thank you," Bernard said. "Let me make a phone call, see what I can do." He pushed his chair back and said, "While I'm gone, order me an espresso and a Sambuca, okay?" And he got to his feet and headed toward the phone booth in the back.
"Bernard," Kelp muttered after his departing back, "you're a highway robber." But he ordered the espresso and Sambuca from Sal the waiter, and the same for himself, and was chewing on one of the coffee beans from the Sambuca when Bernard came back. Kelp gave him an alert look, but first Bernard had to taste his Sambuca, then he had to put a sugar cube in his espresso. Finally, stirring the espresso, he looked seriously at Kelp and said, "Your cousin's tangled with a wrong guy."
"I thought so," said Kelp.
"His name's Leo Zane," Bernard said, "and he has the worst kind of no record."
"I don't think I follow."
"Picked up lots of times, always on very serious stuff – murder, attempted murder, aggravated assault, twice for arson – but never convicted."
"Slippery," Kelp suggested.
"Like a snake. And twice as dangerous. If your cousin wants to deal with this guy, he better wear gloves."
"I'll tell him. Did you happen to get an address while you were on the phone?"
Bernard shook his head. "Zane isn't a homebody," he said. "He lives in furnished rooms, residence hotels, he's a loner and moves around a lot."
"Drat."