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"Who is Dominick?" I said.
"I don't know," my friend said. "That's what I was told to say the first time I went there."
On the appointed day, we set out for New York two and a half hours before the circus curtain, if the circus can be said to have a curtain, was scheduled to go up. Nevertheless, when we arrived at the parking lot, I could see there was not enough room left for a pogo stick. A short, thick, untrustworthy-looking man was standing at the gate, leaning on a sign that said "FULL" and staring at the passers-by as though he were trying to decide which one to have for his dinner that night. I pulled up to the curb.
"Pardon me," I said. "Could you tell me where I can find LeRoy?"
"Why do you want him?"
"Dominick sent me," I said.
The man pushed himself away from the sign and came across the sidewalk toward us.
"That'll be two bucks," he said. I gave him two dollars. He examined them as though he thought there was a distinct possibility that I had made them myself. "Drive around the corner," he said. "The lamppost in the middle of the block, on the left side. You'll see a fat guy in a cap. Tell him Dominick sent you."
'WE'RE GETTING CLOSER'
I drove around the corner. In the middle of the block, leaning against the lamppost on the left side of the street, was a fat man in a dirty corduroy cap. I pulled the car up to the curb beside him.