Hank’s process for assimilating into and getting lost in the San Diego community went fairly quickly and smoothly. He took on the alias of Hank Westcott (Why that? He had no idea!) and avoided jobs that required both valid I.D. and Social Security number, i.e.,he worked on temporary jobs where he got paid "under the table,” an odd and sometimes questionable approach to employment, but it was all he could do. He was traveling with a large amount of cash, his life savings, so to speak, obtained from cashing in his savings in a New Haven bank in between eating steamed hot dogs. He hoped to have no paper trail beyond New England, and he paid in cash for everything.
In contrast to his deplorable work situation, he found a lovely place to live, a well kept motel (“The Happy Gull") with rent by
