"Not Mullan," I said.
"You've been here no longer than I have, and you know that. You're an interesting man, Ned."
"You don't know the half of it."
"Ned?" She put down her spoon. "Why are you laughing?"
•Toby Kraft came from behind his counter and wrapped his arms around me. "Heard the news this morning, couldn't believe my ears! You okay? What happened?"
I said that I had moved to the Brazen Head after his friend had evicted me. “I guess you knew her when her name was Hazel Jansky."
"We did some business together about a million years ago. The lady got in trouble, and I helped her out. I do favors for my friends." Toby was not even faintly uneasy. "What did she do, tell you her life story?"
"Part of it. I hope you had that building insured."
"Bet your ass. Do your aunts know you're all right?"
“I didn't tell them where I was, but I should call them anyhow," I said.
Toby looked at the satchel, and I asked him if he would keep it in his safe for a while. He caressed the soft leather. "Touch an item like that, you feel like J. P. Morgan."
He shoved the bag on top of the jumble of files and loose papers in his safe and grunted back onto his feet. "Helen chewed me out for telling you her old name. But you didn't get that here."
“I saw some old articles from theEcho," Isaid. "Toby, was that why you went to Greenhaven?"
"Sit clown."
The same piles of papers flowed across the top of his desk; the same women in the same sad, blunt poses covered the walls. Toby folded his hands on his belly. "Want to know the truth of that deal? Certain people have problems with the adoption process. Other people, they don't want the babies God gave them. I can't defend the legality of what I did, but I do defend its morality."
"The morality of selling babies," I said.
"Adoption agencies don't take fees?"
"They don't abduct babies and tell their mothers they died."
"A child deserves a good home." Toby spread his arms. "Me, I am a guy who takes care of people. I took care of your grandmother, I took care of your mother, and I'm going to take care of you. The day I am dragged kicking and screaming from the face of the earth, and I hope at the time I am in the sack with a good-looking dame, you are going to hear from the greatest lawyer ever lived, Mr. C. Clayton Creech, and it will be your duty to get your ass back to Edgerton. No fooling around." His magnified eyes made sure I got the message. "Understood?"
"Understood," I said.
“I should give you his particulars." Toby snapped a business card out of his wallet.
C. Clayton Creech, LLP Attorney at Law 7 Paddlewheel Road Edgerton, Illinois
A telephone number was printed on the lower left corner, and on the lower right,Available at All Times.
"Get into any kind of trouble around here, you call this guy first. Promise me?"
"Greatest lawyer that ever lived."
"You have no idea."
"On the day you die, he's going to read your will? What's the rush?"
"You let things slide, funny shit can happen. Know the basic principle?"
I shook my head.
"Take 'em by surprise," he said. I laughed out loud. "Listen, why not start working for me now? You got nothing else to do, and I can explain the whole job in fifteen minutes. The hours are eighta.m. to live-thirtyp.m. A little time off for lunch. Ready?"
"Take 'em by surprise," I said. “I guess so, sure, but it can only be for a couple of days. Let me call Nettie first."
"Be my guest," Toby said.
Nettie wasted no time on an exchange of greetings. “I thought we were going to be seeing you, but all you do is call on the telephone."
"How did you know it was me?"
“I heard your ring. Come over for dinner around six. And if you still don't have a piece, the best thing is, get one from old Toby Kraft. You want a piece with no registration on it. The time comes when you have to use it, wipe it off, drop it, and walk away. You'll be cleaner than the Board of Health. May will be here, too, so show up on time."
Toby tilted back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. "The old warhorse had some words of advice?"
"You know what she's like," I said. "How about giving me a lesson in pawnbroking?"
"You're gonna be great at this. It's in your blood." He pushed himself away from the desk.
•He explained the procedure for writing out the tickets and storing the goods. Cameras went on one set of shelves, watches on another, musical instruments in a display case, arranged in the order of the numbers on the ticket stubs. He put flatware in wrapped bundles lined up in drawers, stemware and china in cabinets, paintings against the wall, rugs and furniture at the side of the back room. Pledges were charged at 3 percent interest, weekly. I asked him about the money given for the pledges.
"Generally, you know by looking at the customer. It's in their eyes. You'll see. When you know what they hope they're gonna get, offer half, and they go away happy. Anything suspicious, like a guy with a shopping cart full of computer monitors, pick up the phone and tell him you're calling the cops. That shit catches up with you."
"What about guns?"
"Paperwork up the keester. The firearms are in a locked cabinet on the other side of the shelves. A guy wants a handgun, go to the cabinet, slide out a tray, put it in front of him. Prices are all tagged. When he makes his choice, he signs the forms here in the drawer. We send copies to the State Police, and he comes back in five days. Rifles, shotguns, no problem, he gets it that day. No assault weapons, on account of I'm not running an armory."
"Nettie thinks I should carry an unregistered gun," I said.
"She wants you to get into the stickup business?"
After I had explained my history with Joe Staggers and his friends, he gave me a long, careful look. “I got a couple pieces here for use in emergencies. Don't let anyone see it unless you have to, and never say where you got it."
Toby disappeared into the rear of the shop and came back with a small, black pistol and a holster that looked like a glove. "This here's a twenty-five-caliber Beretta automatic. I put a clip in for you. To chamber a round, pull back this slide. This is the safety—see the red dot? That means the safety is on, and you can't pull the trigger. Push it down with your thumb, you're ready to fire." He put the pistol in the holster. "Clip it to your belt in the small of your back, no one'll know it's there. Give it back the day you leave."
"This probably won't happen, but what if I have to use it?"
"Throw it in the river. A gun with no paper on it, you only use once." He watched me clip the holster to my belt and asked me to turn around. "Now forget you're carrying it. Don't keep on reaching around to fiddle with the thing."
We went into his office. "Your job is to stick behind the counter. If I'm out or in here by myself, bring in copies of the slips every couple of hours and record the transactions in the journal on my desk. You'll see how—put down the number, the customer's name, a description, and the amount. When you get to the amount, record it at half value. Then take the other journal out of my bottom left-hand drawer and write down everything all over again, but with the right numbers. At the end of the day, that one goes in the safe."