The owner leaned behind the counter for a switch and turned on an overhead bulb. Greg looked at my neighbor for a long, doubtful minute. His face cleared suddenly into a big grin.

“That’s right, Sal. Ain’t seen you since you retired. We’ve all been getting older, though you look pretty good. You moved north, what I heard.”

The other men started moving in their chairs, finishing drinks, murmuring to each other. We belonged, after all. They didn’t have to form a posse.

“Yeah,” Mr. Contreras said. “After Clara died I just couldn’t stay in the old neighborhood. I got me a nice little place up on Racine.”

“That your daughter? She turned out mighty nice. I thought your kid was older, though.”

“Nah. This here’s my neighbor. Vic Warshawski. She was driving me down to visit Eddie this afternoon, so I wouldn’t have to take the el. Then we found out he was dead. I guess you probably heard all about that.”

“Yup.” Barney intervened, anxious to regain control of his bar. “He was just in here not five minutes before. Then they shot him on his way home. Clarence here, his wife saw Eddie die. When the cops and all finished talking to her she came and got him.”

A bald man next to Greg nodded portentously. Either Mr. Yuall or Mr. Joyce. Having comforted his wife in her shock, he had hastened back to Barney’s to share it with his friends.

“Mrs. Mohr thought he’d come here to meet someone,” I ventured, hoping our bona fides were now well enough established for me to speak.

“That’s what Eddie said,” Barney agreed. “He was expecting to meet some man here for lunch. He waited for an hour and finally decided he’d had enough. He ate a hamburger by himself and left for home.”

“Did he leave a message—in case the man he was waiting for showed up after all?” I asked.

“Yeah, he did, Barney,” Greg said. “Remember? He said it was some management squirt and he was tired of waiting on management squirts, so if the guy showed up to tell him to call when he really wanted to have a meeting.”

“That’s right. Him getting shot like that, it went out of my mind.” Barney scratched his thin gray hair. “But what name did he say?”

I waited while he pondered. “Milt Chamfers? Or Ben Lo-ring?” I finally offered.

Barney nodded slowly. “I believe it was one of them. Chamfers. I believe that’s the name all right.”

Greg agreed that Chamfers was the name Eddie had given, but it didn’t mean anything to him. He’d apparently left Diamond Head before the new owners took over. No, Eddie had never mentioned Milt Chamfers to him or to any of them.