“Hang on.” She broke away and picked up a food order from the kitchen window, delivering it to the guy at the end of the bar. I could see him tuck into the kaiser roll, fried egg dripping onto his plate, and I could taste the hot salami and cheese. When Tannie caught sight of my face, she placed an order for me without my even having to ask. I must have looked as mournful as a dog begging for table scraps. “Tell you who you ought to talk to is Winston Smith. Is he on your list? He’s the guy who sold Violet the car.”

“Name doesn’t sound familiar, but I can check. What’s the story on him?”

“Nothing in particular. It’s just this feeling I have. I always thought he knew more than he let on.”

“What’s your opinion of Foley? I don’t believe you’ve said. I’m talking about him as a person, not what he may or may not have done.”

I saw her attention shift. Another customer had come in and she moved halfway down the bar, as he was claiming a stool. He told her what he wanted, and I watched her make his drink, though it was not one I recognized from the liquors she poured. She obviously knew the guy and chatted with him while pulling bottles from the shelf, doing pours with a carelessness that comes from long experience. Having served him, she took advantage of the interruption to make a round of the tables, where she picked up three drink orders and tended to them before she came back to me. She paused to light a cigarette, answering the question as though she’d never been gone: “He was always a creep. I don’t buy into that pious act of his. I’ve heard he’s given up booze, but that doesn’t cut any ice with me. A guy like that-scratch the surface, he’s the same as he’s always been. Only now he hides it better.”

“Did you have much contact with him?”

“Enough. Daisy and I were friends, but my dad never let me spend the night at her house. For one thing, the place they moved into was a nasty little dump, and for another, he saw Foley as the kind of guy young girls shouldn’t be left alone with. Daisy was welcome to come to our house. When Foley dropped her off, he’d try to chat me up. I’m only ten years old and I can already tell that he’s a world-class jerk.”

“You thought that at ten?”

“I could see straight through him. Kids operate at gut level and they’re hard to fool. I never told Daisy what I thought of him-she had problems enough-but I avoided him like the plague. Even Pop, who’s what they call ‘a man’s man,’ didn’t have any use for him.”