So far, Tony had found nothing for Jerome.

Twenty-four hours of searching had resulted in nothing new, no leads, no results as to who had published that paper. When he began to see another edition of the paper gracing the stoops of various homes, his frustration grew exponentially. Though he hated to face Jerome with no news, Tony felt beholden to report his progress, or lack thereof. When he walked into Marcel's, it swung wildly with the music and noise of a speakeasy. Tony sighed. If only he could enjoy the experience.

Jerome had decided to play his trumpet on stage, a habit he had largely given up since announcing his political run. Jazz musicians did not make particularly attractive candidates, he insisted. Occasionally, though, Jerome would indulge himself, and at certain times of day, Marcel's held little more than the regular customers. These would rather admire Jerome for his musical stylings than reject him.

After watching a few numbers and drinking a soda, Tony saw with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation that Jerome had put down his horn. Tony marked every step as Jerome made his way to the bar for a drink and then back over to Tony's perch near the stage. Fortunately for the ease of conversation, Doris had picked a slow, sultry ballad to entertain the sparse crowd, and the music played more of a backdrop than a starring role in the club's atmosphere for the moment.

"I don't like the look on your face, Tony," began Jerome.

Tony's eyebrows raised involuntarily, a nervous response to his feeling of helplessness.

"That's because I haven't found anything," Tony admitted. "Honestly, no one has seen anything about this paper. Whoever has done this is either so small that they're almost imperceptible or so smart that they know how to avoid detection. Maybe both. I've almost exhausted my resources."

Shaking his head, Jerome stared absentmindedly toward Doris and the band. He didn't look angry, though Tony hadn't expected him to, but he did look disappointed. Tony had definitely expected that sentiment.

"I'm trying, Jerome. I really am. I promise that I will use every resource that I can to find out who did this."

Jerome turned to Tony and smiled, placing his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I know you will. That's one thing I have always known about you, and it's largely the reason I have brought you in on this campaign. No one is as honest as you, and no one will work as hard as you. Don't let this eat you up and take you away from your other duties."

"But can you keep Marcel satisfied?"

"Marcel looks more vicious than he really is, and he sees that you're right, Tony. The truth will come out, and if it doesn't come out now, before the election, it will come out after. That's why your number one job is to help me get elected."

At this, Tony smiled. "That's a job I feel equal to."

"Still talkin' like a college boy," Jerome razzed. Tony felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. For the previous day, Tony had spent hours in shadows listening covertly to conversations that yielded no results.

"Nope. Not a college boy. Gave that up a year ago."

"Like a fool," Jerome's comment would have sounded like Professor Garner's chastisement, but he softened his words with a smile. "You make sure and finish what you started. Of course, only once I've been elected."

Tony smiled.

"I've got a meeting to go to," Jerome stood to his feet, scooting his chair behind him. "The drinks are on me."

Again, Tony smiled and turned his attention back to the band.

Thirty minutes later, Tony left his chair behind and headed backstage to chat with Leonard. Over the last couple of weeks, Tony and Leonard had grown increasingly friendly with each other, Leonard's cheerful ease a companionable match to Tony's focused intensity. With Doris to add charm to the late evening meetings, Tony had grown particularly fond of his almost nightly engagements with the two.

Based on their established routine, Tony felt certain that the pair would expect him, would be waiting for him to join them, having secured their small table in the kitchen. They had obviously not expected him quite so soon, however, because as he approached the small corridor which led from the main dining room into the kitchen, Tony heard their raised voices.

"If you know something," Doris insisted from the nearby alcove, "you need to tell him."

"He's not the cops, and she's done nothing illegal," Leonard shot back.

"Your own uncle was slandered by this girl, and you -"

"Not by this girl," Leonard corrected. "She knew nothing about it, and I'm not going to have Tony breathing down her neck."

Tony heard a huff from Doris. "Tony Garner is a good man. He wouldn't hurt a soul, and you know it."

"Of course he wouldn't, but I don't think she would handle the confrontation all that well. You should have seen her when I asked her about it. She looked like she would collapse into a puddle of sobs just at the mention of it. Uncle Barry is fine. I should never have mentioned it to her in the first place."

For a moment, Tony considered announcing his presence; he felt a little duplicitous eavesdropping around a corner. He decided, however, that Leonard would prove much more likely to let the name slip if he didn't know of Tony's listening ear. For another minute or so, Leonard and Doris continued their tiff, and Tony kept straining to hear a name to go with the information he had just overheard. What girl? he wondered. Who did Leonard want so desperately to protect from Tony's malevolence? Tony laughed at the thought, but quickly snuffed out his pride. While he would never intentionally hurt someone, he'd never had the chance before. He would need to tread carefully to avoid causing anyone trouble.

Finally, Tony heard the click of a door, and the voices of the couple passed beyond his hearing. They had, by that time, moved on to other topics. After waiting a few minutes to avert suspicion, Tony followed them into the kitchen. He fortunately had not encountered anyone who had seen him loitering in the hall.

Tony smiled as he passed through the door, making eye contact with the various denizens of the kitchen. He loved the people who worked in the back. As soon as she saw him, Peg served up a bowl of her simmering stew and placed it on the table next to the already piping bowls of Doris and Leonard. The pair smiled up at him, and Tony smiled stiffly, uncertain how completely he could hide the evidence of his eavesdropping.

"Where you been, Tony?" came Leonard's casual reply, and Tony reined in a huff at the irony of the question.

"Talking to your dad, listening to Doris – the usual."

"Have you had any luck with that thing you're working on for Marcel?" Doris questioned.

Tony shook his head, letting frustration cover his curious expression. "Nothing. Have you heard anything? How's Barry?"

Leonard smiled, his look both relieved and triumphant, and Tony sensed a release of nervous tension in the air. "Barry is great," Leonard offered pleasantly. "Thanks for asking. It seems all publicity is good publicity. When people got wind of the paper, they began to search out Barry's store out of curiosity. His business has actually picked up a little. I'm sure the people who wrote the paper hadn't expected any good to come out of this for Barry or anyone else on that list. I only wish the writers had been more careful, because some of the people on that list should have been boycotted. When they put Barry on the list, they lose credibility."

Tony firmly agreed. "I am sincerely and truly glad that things have worked out for your uncle. Jerome didn't really fill me in on the details, though I didn't give him much of a chance. I felt so guilty for not having anything to help him that I managed to change the topic every time he brought it up."

"I never took you for a coward," Leonard teased.

Shaking his head, Tony redirected the conversation back to his preferred topic. "So, have you heard anything?"

Doris shot Leonard a glare, but Leonard either didn't notice or didn't want to notice. "Not really," he answered sharply. "Nope. I heard a few rumors, but if I spread those, then I'm as bad as the people who published the paper."

Rather than a direct attack, Tony decided to make a lateral move, skirting the subject and directing it into topics that might reveal a piece of evidence. "Of course. You're right about that, Leonard. And I'm not sure I'd believe the rumors anyway. Maybe it would be better for me to ask who is spreading these rumors?"

"It wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to malign them either, now, would it?"

"I guess I didn't mean 'who' as much as I meant, "where" are you hearing these rumors? Would it be the Village or somewhere else?"

Again, Doris turned toward him, this time grabbing his hand on the table. "Just tell him, Leonard. The rumors, Tony, have..."

"The rumors seem to have found their way here from around the university," Leonard paused, and Tony watched the nervousness return. Leonard didn't want to reveal too much. "Meaning," he equivocated, "somewhere in all of the neighborhoods around the university as well as the university itself. Really, just because we heard rumors from somewhere doesn't indicate that the stories originated from there. Gossipy women who can't keep their mouths shut. That's what I'm worried about."

"Leonard!" Doris lightly punched his arm.

"Well, of course I didn't mean you, Sweetheart." Leonard's words dripped with sarcasm, and Tony, recognizing the jibe, almost smiled at the lovers' spat. Of course, the couple had no idea that Tony had overheard them, so his amusement was lost on them.

"You've been a big help, Leonard," Tony prodded, unable to resist stirring up the pot of his friend's anxiety. Leonard knew something about the paper, and he also knew how hard Tony had been working to solve the mystery of who had published it. Yet, Leonard still withheld the information he possessed. Tony wished that Leonard would trust him, but unfortunately, Leonard had fallen for the old "damsel-in-distress" ploy of a helpless woman. Unbelievable.

Leonard glanced up at Tony curiously, as if he suspected Tony of some unspoken knowledge.

"Thanks for the soup, Peg," Tony called out to the plump woman standing at the stove. He patted Leonard on the back and reached to squeeze Doris's hand.

Doris held his hand a bit longer than expected. "You have to be kind, Tony," she pressed, squeezing his hand for emphasis. "You have to assume that the people who did this intended no harm."

"That's quite a statement for Marcel's future daughter-in-law," Tony accused lightly.

"That's a statement from a person who has assumptions made about her all the time. For me, it's because of the color of my skin. But that's not the only type of prejudice that exists. Just think before you go in, guns blazing."

Her admonishment evoked his earlier thoughts. Tony would need to tread carefully to avoid causing an innocent person trouble. For the first time since he had begun helping Jerome, Tony didn't like his job. He liked his dilemmas to be black and white, in the moral sense, and this one was clouded with entirely too much grey.

"I understand, Doris," Tony squeezed back at her hand. "I'll be careful with her."

If either Leonard or Doris notice Tony's reference to a girl, neither gave any indication. And if all else failed, Tony would pressure Leonard through whatever ethically justifiable means available, including telling Marcel. It would be a low blow, but Tony needed the information as soon as he could manage to find it. He had begun to think that he needed to find out before someone else did.