text: That morning, the office was drafty. I distinctly remember thinking, “I should’ve worn a vest.” He wandered in a little before lunch--threadbare jacket, patched hat. He’d hit hard times. I was planning to order a hamburger from the stand down the street, but he changed all that. Really threw off my rhythm. He sat down and told me a sob story about his mama leaving him out of her will. But, turns out, the document wasn’t the real deal. He slid the copy across my desk. It was phony through and through, but that didn’t stop it getting rubber stamped at city hall. “See, for starters, the signature’s all wrong,” he said. “And there’s a lot more in there that’s just not true. Can you help me?” I pointed out the old tie wadded up in his pocket--his handkerchief, apparently. “Can you afford me?” Now, I was hungry for steak. “Yeah, my uncle said he’d take care of it. He was written out too. But, ‘fore we go any further, I’ve got to tell you, if you take this case, they might come after you.” I kicked back in my chair, almost flipping it. “I’m a professional. Nothing takes me by surprise anymore. How’d all this start?” “Mama started dating this guy she met at a casino. Real rough character. Had lots of big cars and money to throw around. He made Mama feel special. He bought her a ring. Then, she got sick--and he was gone just like that! The guy didn’t even stop by the hospital. Now, he’s getting everything. Said they were practically married the whole time. He said they’d moved in together. It’s all a bunch of hooey.” The man took off his hat and crumpled the felt brim in his sweaty palms. “My sister already tried to fight it, and she went missing a week ago.” “So, you went to the police?” “No, the letters said not to say anything to the authorities.” “And you listened to them?” First time for everything, I guess. “Yeah, I didn’t want nothing bad to happen to her! Can you help? That inheritance is all we’ve got. Everyone else in the family’s long gone.” “What about your uncle?” “Yeah, he’s still here. I guess.” I tapped on the desk. “You understand, if I do this, they’ll come after you--whoever these people are. Do they know where you live?” The man nodded. “Have they met the entire family? Could they pick all of you out of a crowd?” His head bobbed. “Photographs? Tell me they don’t have photographs!” The poor guy replaced his hat and gave it a tap. “Do we stand a chance?” “Nope.” “But you said you’re a professional! Surely, you’ve brought down bigger criminals than this?” I grabbed a bottle out of my desk. “I’m just in this for the beer money.” The man erupted, “YOU ARE A TERRIBLE MAN. I CAME TO YOU, ASKING FOR HELP, AND YOU WON’T EVEN LIFT A FINGER TO HELP GET MY SISTER BACK? I’LL TELL ALL THE PAPERS YOU’RE A COWARD! A BIGSHOT PRIVATE EYE LIKE YOU--YOU’RE A SCAREDY CAT. I BET THAT’LL LOOK GOOD IN THE EVENING EDITION!” “Listen, buddy, I didn’t build the locks. I’m just the one who waves folks through.” “What?” “Scram.