Yonatan leaned forward, focused and intense. “This Lulu— is he an older man, around 60, who goes around in a brown plaid shirt and a flat, shabby cap?”
his is going to sound a bit stupid,” said Yonatan, rubbing his hands together awkwardly, “but do you happen to know any beggars?”
“Lots of them,” said Yanky evenly, wondering why Yonatan was asking. “They come through Zichron Moishe all the time.”
“Do you know any of them by name, and where they live?”
“Explain to me what you want,” said Yanky, “and I’ll help you if I can. You’re looking for a specific beggar?”
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