“Okay, um, I was meeting a friend for lunch today, and asI was walking in, Fratelli was walking out.” Carter described what happened in detail.
“You’re sure it was Fratelli?”
“He looks older than he used to, which he would, right? And his nose is different, but I figure he did that on purpose. You know, to change his face. But I swear to you, it was him.”
“What time was this?”
“A little after one p.m., I think.”
“You think or you know?”
“Um, I know. I was supposed to meet my friend at one, and I was about five minutes late.”
“Name of the restaurant?”
“Café Chelsea.”
Gennaro clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, thinking. If this guy was right, this was huge.
“All right,” he said, then reopened the front door. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Wait. What about the reward?”
Gennaro snorted. “You don’t expect me to just believe you without checking it out first, do you?”
“No…I guess not. But…”
“Carter, was it?”
“Y-y-yes.”
“You got a piece of paper and a pen?”
“Uh…” Carter patted his pockets and came up with a pen but no paper.
“Not carrying any cash?” Gennaro asked.
“What?”
Gennaro stared at him until Carter removed his wallet and pulled out a ten-dollar bill.
“This is the smallest I have.”
“Good for you. It’s still paper.”
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Mr. Carter, how am I supposed to get a hold of you if your information is good?”
“Ah. I get it.” Carter wrote his name and number on the bill and gave it to Gennaro as he said, “Then there still is a reward?”
“If he turns out to really be Fratelli, there is. But if you’re wasting my time…”
“I’m not. I swear.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Now, if you don’t mind.” Gennaro nodded toward the open door.
“Thank you, Mr. Gennaro,” Carter said as he left.
