"How about me?" asked Dean.
"Only the guests rate," she replied. "The locals get their own coffee." Dean smiled as Winston thanked her.
"Tell me about these loose ends," Winston said as Rita returned to her desk.
Dean reluctantly explained Fred O'Connor's idea about the newspaper subscription and the fact that a paper had been sent to Scranton to a somewhat mysterious occupant. He brushed off the idea it could be Byrne and justified his interest as only appeasing his elderly stepfather. Winston didn't press for details-thankfully-and Dean made no mention of taking time for an off-duty trip to Scranton.
"Tell you what," Winston said, "I'll chase down the name and address with the Post Office and see if a forwarding address was filled. Then you can forget the whole business."
Dean gave Winston the information, including both names, Cleary and Corbin. Dean thanked him and changed the subject. "How are you coming with our friend Vinnie?" he asked.
"He's singing like the choir lead at a church revival." Winston glanced up. "Why don't you ask him?"
"Yellow 42!" shouted a voice and Vinnie Baratto stood by the door in the loudest sport jacket Dean had ever seen. "Yellow 42," he yelled again, charging into the room, feigning a hand-off and tossing his arms in the air. "Score!" he screamed, "Davey Dean scores! Parkside wins!" The room froze. Harrigan stopped in mid-sentence on the phone and Rita turned, fingers paralyzed above the keys. Dean closed his eyes and bowed his head on his arm. The jerk couldn't even get it right-they'd only tied the game. Even Leland Anderson turned the corner from his office to see what was causing the commotion.
"Vinnie, what are you doing here?" Dean asked disgustedly.
"What place is safer than the police station?" said Winston. "Right, Vinnie?"
"Hey, don't call me 'Vinnie.' It ain't gonna be my name from here on. My colored buddy here-see? I don't say 'nigger' no more-he and me, we're burying Vinnie Baratto for good. I'm getting a whole new identity!"
"I hope they make you a stable boy in a pig farm in Iowa and you spend the rest of your life knee-deep in what pigs do best." Dean said as the others returned to work, Rita shaking her head in disgust and Harrigan trying to talk on the phone by sticking a finger in one ear.
Winston hooked a leg around a chair and sat. "Old Vinnie here is going to be fine as long as he keeps on singing. He's even got himself a lawyer to make sure he's getting a good deal. But we're on the same track now, aren't we, Vinnie?" Vinnie nodded vigorously. "He and I are taking a little vacation trip to Maryland before he assumes his new life and disappears. Vinnie thinks he knows where some of his friends have a place around St. Michaels, on the eastern shore of the Chesapeake. We understand they give swimming lessons there."