“He never mentioned his uncle’s name?”

“No. I happened to overhear him talking about it to someone else.”

“Why pick me when there are half a dozen private eyes in town?”

“You know a fellow named Pinky Ford?”

“Of course. How do you know him?”

“He’s a man about town, in some sense of the word. I haven’t seen him in weeks, but he lives in a big yellow Cadillac he parks here and there. Terrence was asking around and Pinky told him you were a decent sort.”

“I’d like to think so.”

Dandy cocked his head. “How do you know Pinky? He doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Long story I’ll save for another time.”

“I may take you up on it,” he said. “Meantime, what else can I tell you about Terrence?”

“Do you know where he was from?”

“Bakersfield. I don’t know if he was born there, but the way he told it, that’s where he lived most of his life.”

“You met him at Harbor House?”

“That’s right. He arrived here in January on a Greyhound bus. He’d been in prison up at Soledad. He said it was a life sentence, but that’s all I know. He didn’t like to talk about it. He slept a couple of nights under a freeway overpass and figured out it was a bad idea. The panhandlers with cardboard signs aren’t as nice as the rest of us. You stand by the road begging, that’s a different work ethic. Terrence tried the Rescue Mission, but they wouldn’t take him unless he swore off alcohol, which he wasn’t about to do. He heard about the shelter and when he showed up, the first person he met was Pearl. She introduced him to Felix and me. Harbor House, you don’t have to be sober, but you’d better not be obstreperous. Make trouble and you’re out.”

“It seems like a cool place,” I said. “I stopped by the day before yesterday looking for you.”

“Sunday, we throw darts. Sports bar down the block has a weekly tournament.”

“Are you any good?”

“Depends on what day it is and how much I’ve had to drink.”

“I noticed the woman in line ahead of me had a shelter ID card. At least I think that’s what it was. I wondered if Terrence had one. I ask because he didn’t have any identification on him when the coroner brought him in.”

“Oh, he had a card. I’m sure of it. Harbor House issued one so he could take his meals with us. Someone walked off with all his stuff, so maybe it was in his cart.”

“He wasn’t a Harbor House resident?”