"Joe Baker, the little guy."
"I didn't see it."
"Sure, because you weren't looking for it."
"I was looking at them."
"Baker had it under the table in the hand he wasn't eating with. You couldn't notice unless you bent down to look under the flap of their tablecloth. They must have found out their pal here was going to sing and figured he probably told us too much already. They counted on getting him later."
Dan nodded reflectively. "But what I want to know," he said, "is how you happened to be looking under their table."
Gatti chuckled some more.
"I was just making sure," he said. "Guys named Callahan shouldn't try to eat spaghetti. He might have palmed off the accent but nobody with a real accent like that would cut up his spaghetti with a knife and pick up tiny pieces on his fork."
"What's wrong with that?" Dan wanted to know.
Gatti gave him a look of contempt. "You eat spaghetti with a fork and a tablespoon to help you wind it around the fork and you eat it full length or it isn't worth eating."