Jim looked through the wallet, went to the phone and dailed the number on the I.D. card. He had to check it out for himself.

“You don’t know me,” he said when a man answered, “but I’ve got something that may be of importance to you. Let me ask you a hypothetical question. If someone was to know you were a male nurse by way of your identification card, what would you say to that?”

After a moment, the voice answered, “I’d say the person who knows that has my wallet.”

Okay,” Jim said, “and can you tell me what your wallet looks like and what else is in it?”

The man described the wallet and its contents.

“How’d you come to lose it?”

“I was in a roadside-rest area between Athens and Lancaster with a friend of mine. Two guys came into the men’s room. One of them had a pistol, the other one had a sword. They took our wallets, watches and rings, then they drove us out into the woods and left us.”

“What kind of car was it?”

“The guy who had the sword was driving a blue Pontiac Grand Prix.” He gave Jim the license-plate number.

“How are you so sure about the car and the number?”

“I saw that car again in a store downtown the other day. I stood not fifty feet away from the guy who carried the sword, and I followed him to the car. He was the same one.”

“Why didn’t you turn him in?”

“Because I’m in a position to get an important new job, and I’m a homosexual. If I report this incident, I expose not only myself but several of my friends.”

“Okay,” Jim said, “on the premise that you don’t want to report this incident and expose yourself and your friends, I’ll see that you get back your wallet and personal effects. Lets just keep it anonymous. You’ll get it in the mail.”

When he got off the phone, he leaned back and took a deep breath. He looked at his mother and Del and Dathy. “Billy’s in trouble,” he said, and picked up the phone again.

“Who are you calling now?” Kathy asked.

“I’m going to tell Billy I’d like to come over tomorrow and see his new place.”

Kathy said, “I’m going with you.”

The following evening, Christmas Eve, Tommy greeted Kathy and Jim at the door in his bare feet. Behind him, in the comer, stood the brightly lit Christmas tree surrounded by presents. On the wall hung a plaque with decorative crossed swords.

While Jim and Tommy talked, Kathy excused herself and went upstairs. She was going to see if she could find further evidence of what he’d been doing.

“Hey, just one question,” Jim said when they were alone. “Where are you getting all the bread for this stuff—this duplex apartment, all those presents, clothes, that watch?”

“My girl’s working,” Tommy said.

“Marlenes paying for all this stuff?”

“Well, a lot of it’s on credit, too.”