"I...I panicked," he said, stammering.
"Clearly. But why? Have you been a naughty boy, Nelson?"
"No...no...I just didn't know who you worked for."
I straightened his rumpled shirt and patted him on the shoulder.
"I work for a little girl who's desperately trying to find her father, Nelson. Word has it that you're friends with said father. His name is Max Dolan."
He looked like a kid on the day they find out Santa Claus isn't real.
"I need to speak with Max Dolan. It's a matter of life or death. Yours, Nelson," I said as I pulled my pistol...