“Don’t you know any of these people?” the agent asked, showing John some pictures.
John looked at them, but none of them looked like drug dealers.
“Who are these people? All of them are Paul’s age or older. They look like his classmates or something.”
“So don’t you know them?”
“Are they the star dealers in the veterans’ home? Pensioner pimps? I have no idea …”
The agent gathered up the photos.
“Brian, man, I’ve really had enough of this now. If you don’t want to help me, I can’t help you either,” he lied, smiling as if he had any idea what was going on here.
“Tell me what you want.”
Great, now we’re getting somewhere! John thought.
“I want to speak with my brother!”
The agent turned to the two-way glass, where somebody must be watching them.
“All right,” he said, turning back. J
