Chapter 3
Only one Fulci currently remained seated in the bar: Paulie, the younger brother.
Alone, he represented more than enough Fulci to meet demand, but it was concerning that both his older brother and the finger jabber were both absent.
The woman was still at her table, gazing around like someone who didn’t necessarily want to be where she was but didn’t regard the options as any better.
I watched Bird Dickson, one of the Bear’s owners, walk over to ask if she was okay, Bird not being one to tolerate the browbeating of women in her bar or anyplace else.
I asked Moxie for a minute and headed to the restrooms. Tony Fulci came out of the men’s room just as I came within sight of the door. He was holding something in his right hand. I feared it might be a body part, but it turned out to be a driver’s license.
“Did you make a mess?” I asked.
“Of what?”
“Of the guy who was too free with his finger.”
Tony looked offended. He had recently informed our mutual friend Louis that he believed himself to be evolving as a person, which Louis took to mean Tony’s knuckles no longer dragged along the ground with quite the same force as before.
“I just talked to him,” said Tony. “And asked for his driver’s license.”
“Did he hand it over willingly?”
“No,” said Tony. “But he handed it over eventually.”
I wasn’t surprised.
“So now you know where he lives,” I said.
“That’s right.”
“And he knows you know.”
“Yeah.”
“What are you going to do with the license?”
“What license?”
Tony held up his hand, which was now empty. Maybe he was evolving after all, if only as a conjuror. As I prepared to move past him, he said: “I’d leave him be. He needs some time alone.”
“Why?”
“To stop crying.”
I held Tony’s gaze.
“You’re sure you just talked to him?”
Tony broke eye contact first.
“After I got his attention,” he said. “By dislocating a finger.”
I patted Tony on the shoulder. It was still progress, and progress was to be applauded.
“He has others,” I said, and together we returned to the bar.