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“Why'd you have to sit so far up,” Tommy Two Fingers said. “I nearly had a heart attack climbing the steps.” He was hunched over and breathing hard.
“You need to improve your cardio,” I said. Tommy used just one of his fingers to express his feelings. He sat down next to me. We were in the back row of Harvard Stadium.
Tommy shoved his hands into the pockets of his Patriots sweatshirt. He was medium height and medium build. His thinning brown hair and unremarkable facial features meant he looked similar to many middle-aged men. Tommy used this to his advantage in running cons.
It had made him difficult to remember and identify back in the days when he picked pockets around Boston. The legend is that Tommy only needed two fingers to lift a wallet and be gone before anyone knew what had happened.
“The last time I met you I nearly froze to death on Boston Common,” he said. “Now I'm about to have a coronary from hauling my ass up all these steps. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to bump me off.”
“And miss out on all our stimulating conversations?” I said.
“It's on me, really,” he said. “I'm stupid enough to keep meeting you at places of your choosing. Next time you come to me.”
“Sure. I like to get out and about.”
Tommy took out a hankie and blew his nose. It sounded like Dizzy Gillespie blowing his trumpet. Tommy put the hankie in his back pants pocket.
“That's the second hankie I've seen in as many days,” I said. “The other was silk.”
“Silk hankies are for showing, not for blowing,” Tommy said.
I wondered if Big Lou knew that. He probably did. Being a hankie guy.
Tommy placed his feet on the bench in front of us. “So,” he said, “what you bring me all the way out here for?”
“All the way out here?” I said. “You live in Allston. I bet it took you less than ten minutes to get here.”
“The point is I showed up. What is it you want?”
“What can you tell me about Eddie Garavito's businesses?”
“You'll have to be more specific. Eddie's got lots of businesses.”
“Does he have any ownership in Dirty Water Companies?”
Tommy thought a few beats. He said, “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I said. “Come on, Tommy, don't yank my chain.”
Tommy looked around. I'm not sure who he thought would be listening from where we were sitting. Other than a few pigeons, Tommy and I were the only ones in the stadium.
“Look, the Garavitos don't like people talking about them and their businesses.”
“But word of mouth is the best form of advertising,” I said.
“Not for the kind of businesses they run.”
I stretched my legs out over the bench and leaned against the back wall.
“I need to know if Eddie Garavito owns any part of a business named Dirty Water Companies. Dirty Water owns Premier Escort Services. Three gorillas warned me off of looking into Premier. Big Lou tells me Eddie Garavito sent them.”
“Jeez,” Tommy said. “That's bad news.”
“My investigative prowess has me convinced they are all related.”
Tommy looked at me and said, “You don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure that out.”
“It would be nice to have it confirmed. Facts are better than assumptions.”
“True,” he said. “You know what they say about when you assume?”
“So, what can you tell me?”
“I can't tell you anything, because I don't know anything,” he said. “Do we understand each other?”
“Sure.”
“I need to know we're clear about the fact I can’t tell you anything, because I don't know anything.”
“I got it,” I said. “You're Sergeant Shultz.”
“I liked that show,” Tommy said. “What was it called?”
“Hogan's Heroes,” I said.
“Right. Hogan's Heroes.”
A couple in running shorts entered the stadium and started jogging up the stairs on the other side.
“Why do people do that to themselves?” Tommy said.
“You mean exercise?”
“More like torture,” he said.
“People like to stay in shape,” I said. “Be healthy.”
“I only ever ran when I was being chased by the cops.”
“I thought no one ever made you?”
“Mostly not,” he said. “But I wasn't as skilled when I first started out.”
I nodded my head and grinned. I had never been on the wrong side of the law, but I often relied on criminals for information. No different, I guess, than the criminal informants police use to help them catch more serious criminals.
“And this information you don't know, and couldn't tell me, would be?”
“A certain person with the initials EG owns a controlling interest in a company whose name resembles a song by The Stendells.”
“I mentioned that very song to Detective Lieutenant Sanchez,” I said.
“Good for you,” he said. “Are we done?”
“You've been a big help,” I said.
“I didn't help you with nothing,” Tommy said.
“Of course you didn't.”
“But you owe me,” he said.
“Story of my life,” I said.
“Catch you around, Drew.”
Tommy pushed himself up and started slowly down the stairs. For every step he labored to take, the runners across the stadium strode effortlessly up three. Tommy stopped and turned his head back toward me.
“By the way,” he called out, “Be careful. You have a big target on your back.”
“So I've heard,” I said.