My search for Rocco Cahoney led me first to Detroit, where I met the oldest criminal ever, Adam Antini. He sat in the shady corner of a park, feeding the mourning doves and pondering his life's misdeeds. "Before I sink into the ground," he told me, "I want to make things right."

"Good," I told him. "You can go a long way toward that if you tell me where to find Cahoney."

"If I help you, I won't last out the week," Antini said, "but it'll be worth it to clear my conscience. I'm softening in my old age, I guess."

Antini whispered in my ear the name of a city, a bar, and a girl. If this old moss-collecter wasn't senile, I had the lead that would take me to Cahoney's hiding place, and then...let the chips fall where they may. (View "Rock" photo album to see these characters)

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