"It's nothing for you to be worried about," said Thomas.

"It affects a client of mine."

"Oh" said Grover, shaking his head weakly and speaking louder, 'but I do worry. I worry about everything. You know, under normal circ.u.mstances I'd tell you absolutely nothing. I'd want you to prove who you are ' "I could if you wish."

Grover held up a hand.

"No need. You wear your identification.

I can see your father all through you."

"I understood you were pretty good" said Thomas.

"Good?"

"As a forger."

The rotund man's eyes twinkled.

"A man takes a certain pride in his work he allowed.

"No matter what that line of work is."

"I understand you were very good ' A smile crossed Grover's face.

"Want to know the truth, Tom, if I can call you that? I was excellent."

"Would unsurpa.s.sed' be the proper word?"

"Maybe," he conceded. His deft fingers drummed on the wooden table in front of him. He paused and Thomas remained silent, sensing that Grover, out of pride or nostalgia or both, would say more.

"I'll tell you how good I was" he added, his eyes twinkling.

"I.

would forge a man's signature to a check, then take the check to the bank it was drawn on. I'd present it to the teller for payment, but I'd say to the teller,

"Please. Take a close look at the signature. I don't know the man who signed it. I want to be sure it's genuine."" "And?"

"The teller would compare my forgery against the real thing.

Then I'd be informed that the check was fine. No problem."

"And that always worked?"

"Never failed. Look, would I try to sell a product that wasn't perfect? I told you, I have my pride."

"You also had your legal problems "For that I had your father," Grove recalled fondly.

"One way or another, when push came to shove, Bill Daniels would get me off."

"Like before the war?"

Grover's eyes narrowed slightly and he was less given to elaboration.

"Correct' he said.

"And in 1954 "Correct again."

"Can we talk about the war?"

"I fought in Europe."

"What's 'trash collection' mean?"

"I have a cousin who's in refuse hauling. That's all it means to me.

"That's not what Adolph Zenger said "Whatever Zenger said," said Grover calmly,

"I wouldn't put too much faith in it. You must know yourself that he's an old liar,"

Grover's thick brow furrowed.

"Did he send you here?"

"What about Arthur Sandler?"

"What about him? He's dead' "No he's not."

Grover gave Thomas a look which seemed to convey genuine surprise. He was thoughtful for a moment.

"No," he said.

"I saw the body myself I was his friend for a while, you know that, I'm sure. I viewed the body after he was shot. It was him" "What would happen," asked Thomas slowly, "if I told you I thought you were lying?"

Grover's tone became more grave.

"You'd be halfway out of here," he said.

"Look, Daniels. As you probably noticed, I'm a respectable member of this neighborhood. For the first time I've got things people can't take away from me. n.o.body except my wife even knows who I was. I plan to keep it that way. I'm not burrowing into the dirt of twenty or thirty years ago. I paid my debt to-" "How? You never spent a day of your life in jail" Grover's eyes were angry.

"Why don't you look in your old man's files."

"They were torched."

"Pity." Grover glared at Daniels.

"All right, I'll tell you anyway. I agreed to be an informer. I'd inform on a man the Feds wanted. I'd get a pardon, they'd arrest their man. Trouble is, the man they wanted got shot first. I still got my pardon."