It was midmorning and clouds were creeping in above us. We were in front of Jeanine Chans house, and we were reading her file,

"Not much here," Diesel said. "She's thirty-five. Single. Never been married. No kids. She works at the button fac-tory. File says she has a problem."

Jeanine lived in a single-story, low-rent row house about a quarter mile from my parents' house in the Burg. There were twenty-one units to a block. They were all redbrick. Front doors opened to small stoops that were directly on the sidewalk. Back doors opened to tiny yards that bordered an alley. Two bedrooms, one bath, small eat-in kitchen. No garages. All the units were identical.

I rang the bell twice, the door opened a crack, and Jeanine looked out. "Yes?" she asked.

"We're looking for Jeanine Chan," I said.

"I'm Jeanine."

She was maybe an inch shorter than me. She had brown almond-shaped eyes and shoulder-length dark brown hair.

She was slim and dressed in a gray shapeless sweatshirt and matching sweatpants.

I introduced myself, and then I introduced Diesel.

Jeanine's eyes sort of glazed over when she saw Diesel.

"Annie suggested you might have a problem," I said to Jeanine.

"Who, me?" Jeanine said. "Nope. Not me. Everything's just fine. Hope this wasn't too inconvenient. I have to go now." And she slammed and locked the door.

"That was easy," Diesel said.

"We didn't solve her problem."

"So?"

"So you're paying me to close the deal, and that wasn't closing the deal. Besides, I'm starting to like this match-maker thing. It's a challenge."

I rang the bell again. And again.

"Now what?" Jeanine said, opening the door, sticking her head out.

"I thought you might want to reconsider. Are you sure you don't have a problem?"

Jeanine's eyes locked onto Diesel.

"Excuse me a minute while I confer with my associate," I said to Jeanine.

I took Diesel by the arm and walked him down the side-walk to the car.

"It's you," I said to Diesel. "You're making her nervous."

"I have that effect on women," Diesel said, smiling. "It's my animal magnetism."

"No doubt. Wait in the car. I'm going to talk to Jeanine, and I'll be right back."

"Okay, what's the problem?" I said to Jeanine when I closed her front door. "I know there's a problem."

"Annie didn't tell you? Gosh, this is so embarrassing. I don't know how to say this." She sucked in some air and scrunched her eyes closed.

"Hello? Anybody home?" I said after a minute of Jeanine with her eyes closed tight.

"I'm working myself up to it," Jeanine said.

"Boy this must really be bad."

"It's the worst."

"Murder? Cancer? Chocolate allergy?"

Jeanine blew out a sigh. "I can't get laid."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

"That's not so bad," I said. "I think I can handle that. I just have to find a guy to have sex with you?"

"Pretty much."

"Do you have requirements?" I asked her.

"I used to, but I'm getting desperate. I guess I'd like him to have at least some teeth. And it would be good if he wasn't so fat he smothered me. That's about it. I got all panicked when I opened the door because I thought maybe Annie sent that Diesel guy over to get the job done. I mean, I wouldn't mind doing it with him, but I might have to work my way up. He doesn't look like something a beginner would want to tackle. Which brings me to the real problem." Jeanine cracked her knuckles. "I'm a virgin."

"Get out!"

"I don't know how this happened. At first I was being careful. I didn't want to do it with just anyone, right? And then all of a sudden I was in my twenties, and it got em-barrassing. I mean, how do you explain being twenty-five years old and never once finding a man who was good enough? And the older I got, the worse it became. It turns out virgins are only popular in high school and harems. No one wants to take responsibility for deflowering a thirty-five-year-old woman."

"Jeez, who would have thought?"

"Yeah, knock me over with a feather. I'm telling you, I've really been trying lately, but I can't get anyone to do it. And now, I've found a man I really like. He's funny and he's kind and he's affectionate. I really think this could turn into something. He might even be the love of my life. Problem is, I have to keep finding excuses not to invite him in… like, my cat is sick, or my mother is visiting, or there's a gas leak."

"All because you can't tell him you're a virgin?"

"Exactly. He'll run for the hills. They always do! God, I hate this stupid virginity. What a dumb idea, anyway. I mean, how the heck am I supposed to get rid of it?"

"Maybe a doctor could help you."

"I thought of that, but that's only part of it." She cracked her knuckles. "I don't know how to do it. I mean, I know where it goes and all, but I don't know the process. Like, do I just lay there? Or am I supposed to do something?"

"Usually you do what feels good."

"What if it doesn't feel good? I'm thirty-five. I'm old to be starting out. What if it was use it or lose it? I need some instruction. Nothing fancy. I'd be happy with the basics. For instance, am I supposed to moan?"

"Men like it, but I find it distracting."

Jeanine was gnawing on her bottom lip. "I don't think I can moan."

"Are you sure you don't want to just talk this out with the guy you're dating?"

"I'd rather stick a fork in my eye."

"Okay, hang in there, and I'll figure something out."

I left Jeanine and trotted back to Diesel.

"You were in there long enough," Diesel said. "What's her big problem?"

"She's a virgin."

"No kidding?"

"Turns out after a certain age it's not that easy to get rid of your virginity. She said men head for the hills when they find out she's a virgin. Don't want the responsibility of be-ing the first."

"I could see that," Diesel said.

"She thought maybe Annie sent you to do the job."

Diesel grinned. "I could take a crack at it."

I raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Diesel said.

"Men."

Diesel grinned wider and ruffled my hair, and I slapped his hand away.

"Just trying to be helpful," Diesel said.

"Jeanine has a boyfriend. She likes him a lot and doesn't want to lose him, but she's afraid he'll split when she tells him she's a virgin."

"So don't tell him," Diesel said. "Let him figure it out for himself after the deed is done."

"That's sort of sneaky."

"You have a problem with sneaky?"

"There's another issue. She feels like she's sort of dumb about the whole thing. Like at thirty-five she should have some technique behind her."

"I imagine you could help her with that one," Diesel said.

"I guess, but I'm not sure I'm all that expert."

"I could test you out and let you know how you score," Diesel said, the grin back in place. "Rate you on a scale of one to ten."

"Now there's an offer every girl dreams about."

Diesel's phone rang, and he took the call.

"Yeah," he said into the phone. "How bad is it?" He lis-tened for a full minute, disconnected, cranked the car over and put it into gear.

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to look for Beaner. He attacked a woman in a diner two blocks from Ernie's Bar. My source said

Beaner went in for breakfast, saw this woman, and went nuts on her because she resembled his wife."

"Jeez. What did he do to her? Is she going to be all right?"

"Shell recover, but it won't be fun." Diesel headed for the center of the city. "I know Beaner is living in the neigh-borhood around Ernie's. I placed him there a week ago, but I can't get a fix on him. I thought we'd go over and walk around. See if I get a vibe."

I looked back at Bob. "It's freezing. I can't leave Bob sit-ting in the cold SUV all afternoon."

Diesel hooked a left at the intersection. "We'll drop him off at your apartment. Lock him in your bathroom, so he doesn't eat your couch. Your bathroom is nice and big. He'll be okay."

The neighborhood around Ernie's is a residential and commercial mix. There are office buildings, condo build-ings, brownstones, and small businesses like Ernie's Bar all in a jumble. Diesel parked in a lot, and we set out on foot with our collars turned up against the wind and our hands in our pockets to keep warm. We covered a grid of blocks a half-mile square, but Beaner didn't register on Diesel's radar.

We ducked into a deli and got sandwiches and coffee for lunch, happy to be out of the cold.

"This isn't working," I said to Diesel. "I vote we do it my human way and canvass the street, asking questions."

"I'm human," Diesel said. "I just have a few extra skills."

I finished my sandwich and coffee and stood. "You go north and I'll go south, and we'll meet back here at three o'clock."

I started with the girl at the register in the deli, asking if she'd seen a guy with a raspberry birthmark on his face. Her answer was no. I went to the florist next door, the drugstore, the dry cleaner. No one had seen Beaner. I spoke to the doorman at a condo building and the recep-tionist at a high-rise office building. No Beaner. I went four blocks south, stopping people on the street. I crossed the street and worked my way back to the deli. No luck at all.

By the time I met up with Diesel, wind-driven snow was angling down, stinging my face. Snow is picturesque in Vermont. In New Jersey, it's a pain in the ass. It slows traf-fic and makes walking treacherous. Dogs turn the snow yellow, and cars churn it into brown sludge.

"Any luck?" Diesel asked.

"None. How about you?"

"Zip."

I felt my cell phone buzz. It was Larry Burlew, and I could barely understand what he was saying. He was talk-ing at warp speed and stuttering.

"It's n~n-not working," he said. "I don't know what to's-s-say to her. She comes over with coffee whenever I wave, but I don't know what to say. What should I say? I just's-s-say thank you. I thought I could talk to her, but nothing comes out. I d-d-don't think I can drink much more coffee, but I can't stop myself from waving."

"How many cups have you had?"

"I d-d-don't know. I lost count. Twelve or fifteen, I think."

"We're on our way," I told him. "Try to hang in there, and for God's sake, don't drink any more coffee."