A woman who had to be about 800 years old raised her hand and answered simply, "Yes." That was all we got out of her.

"It was owned by a guy named Simpson," said an elderly man in the front. "Never knew his first name."

Well, that was a big help.

We checked out two more nursing homes and came away with just enough information to know that it actually existed—but nothing more than that.

"I was starting to wonder if this place was real," Sabrina said finally, as we were again walking through town, this time in search of a decent cup of coffee. "Can you imagine it as some sort of great prank by Bruce. Think about it," she was having fun with this, "you come up with a joke to play on your family. It could affect the lives of your ancestors all the way down the line. The ultimate practical joke."

I didn't get the chance to respond. We were passing an alleyway, when hands reached out and roughly pulled us in. I was thrown to the ground, landing on my left shoulder. I cried out in pain. I heard an exclamation from Sabrina, as well.

I looked up at a big guy holding a gun on me. I glanced over at Sabrina. She was sitting up, rubbing her elbow. An even bigger guy stood over her. I couldn't see a gun.

"What do you want?" I asked, knowing full well he wanted the painting.

"The painting."

I must be psychic.

"What painting?" I asked innocently. But I wasn't fooling anyone.

He kicked me in the side. It was meant to hurt, not to disable, and it did its job. As bad as East Boston was, I had never been mugged before. It was scary. I was wishing Mo and her martial arts skills were with us just then. But I needn't have worried. Turns out, I had Sabrina.

"You must be two of the stupidest crooks I've ever seen," she said. "And I've seen a lot of stupid ones. Do you think if we had the fucking painting," I had never heard her swear, "that we'd be strolling around the town? Don't you think it would have been a little more intelligent to just follow us until you saw the painting? God, you guys are an embarrassment to the crook business."

She had them off guard. And then she kicked her leg up from the sitting position and got the bigger guy right in the balls. It was vicious. He didn't utter a sound more than "umph," and dropped like a sack of manure. Then she swept her leg around and caught my guy in the back of the knee. He went down backwards and landed with a thud. She was up in a second and gave him a kick in the family jewels just as hard as the other guy. He dropped his gun and reached for his groin. Little good that was going to do. I took a shot there once. There is nothing you can do to stop the pain.