Now, armed with Linda's fucking ex's name, Art went to work. He told Gran he had some administrative chores to catch up on for an hour or two, promised to have supper with her and Father Ferlenghetti that night, and went out onto the condo's sundeck with his keyboard velcroed to his thigh.
Trepan: Hey!
Colonelonic: Trepan! Hey, what's up? I hear you're back on the East Coast!
Trepan: True enough. Back in Toronto. How's things with you?
Colonelonic: Same as ever. Trying to quit the dayjob.
Trepan: /private Colonelonic Are you still working at Merril-Lynch?
## Colonelonic (private): Yeah.
Trepan: /private Colonelonic Still got access to Lexus-Nexus?
## Colonelonic (private): Sure — but they're on our asses about abusing the accounts. Every search is logged and has to be accounted for.
Trepan: /private Colonelonic Can you get me background on just one guy?