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and pay rates, looked after the time sheets. Typed a lot, mostly for the personnel director. She said he liked her, liked her work. But when the time came she got the ax with all the rest. How come, if her work is so good? Anyways, each layoff broke her heart. She had to get the time cards together for the guys who were goin’. Nasty job.”
    â€œHow about this last one?” Dorsey asked. “Must’ve been specially tough; she must’ve known she was being let go. Did she know very long ahead of time?”
    â€œAt least a week, as I remember. You’re right, it was tough. But let’s get back to what you came for. Some guy got hurt down at Carlisle? Maybe I know him. I’m retired from there, ya know.”
    â€œThe guy’s name is Radovic, Carl’s his first name. Lives in town down on Otterman. Sound familiar?”
    â€œCarl? Yeah, I know the guy,” Mr. Maynard said. “Supposed to be in bad shape. Haven’t seen him since I left the plant. Still, I hear things.”
    â€œHow about Claudia, she know him?”
    â€œCould be, but it’s unlikely. Old bachelor like him wouldn’t run with the same crowd as Claudia. Could’ve met him at the plant. Maybe he came into the office, about a mistake in his pay or somethin’.”
    â€œJust thought I’d ask.” Dorsey thought this conversation might look good once it was reduced to paper, but it was going nowhere. “I saw Carl today,” Dorsey said. “He’s working for Movement Together, those union people.”
    â€œUnion people? Gimme a break.” Mr. Maynard used his hands in a gesture of dismissal. “That’s some outfit they got there. Oh, there’s some union guys, guys like Carl, but not many. Carl’s a hothead, so his throwin’ in with those people isn’t surprising. Of course he was always just an errand boy, and I’ll bet he still is. Not like my Claudia. She don’t go in for marches or throwin’ stink bombs in churches and department stores, but she knows the wheels, the big shots. Her bein’ involved on that level I can live with, her workin’ sometimes with the leaders. She even knows the priest, Father Jancek. Andy, that’s what the young ones call him.”
    â€œShe should stay away from him!” Unseen, Mrs. Maynard shouted from the hallway. “Priests should leave young girls alone!”
    Mr. Maynard grinned. “She makes a lot out of nothin’. The priest’s okay, when it comes to that. Claudia’s seen him lots and nothing’s come of it.”
    â€œFather Jancek: he’s the guy on TV leading the marches?” Dorsey asked. “Saw him saying mass at the mill gates. Is he still a priest?”
    â€œCan’t say. One bishop says he ain’t, the other says he is. Better ask the Pope. But you wanna talk about Carl.”
    â€œClaudia, she wouldn’t’ve known Carl even through the priest?”
    â€œNo way,” Mr. Maynard said. “Carl is strictly rank-and-file. Claudia knows the bosses.”
    Maybe, maybe not, Dorsey thought. But now at least he had something to put in his report.

4

    Three years earlier, approximately four months after his mutually unmourned departure from the Allegheny County District Attorney’s office, Dorsey had purchased an electronic telephone answering machine. The unit came off the back of a truck parked in the Strip district, and Dorsey suspected it originated in the back of another truck. Proud of his bargaining powers, he was sure the tape would soon be crammed with messages from prospective clients. Sadly, this was not the case, and the aggravation caused by the silent tape led Dorsey to disconnect the entire unit. But now, with the newfound affluence brought by Ray Corso, the machine was back on the job. It had taken Dorsey and Bernie two hours and three beers each to get the unit up and running.
    Dorsey pulled his mail from the