City Hall looms out of the fog; neoclassical stonework on the front, brick on the sides and back. I get directions from a guard to the business licensing division. I ask the clerk behind the counter some questions.

“The city has copies of all the information on business licenses, right?”

“That’s true, sir,” she answers. Her hair is swept out of the way in a bun. She’s wearing glasses, and a sleeve protector covers the right cuff of her blouse.

“And, they’re public records, right? Anybody can see them?” She nods. “What have you got on Carpozi Enterprises?”

“Just a moment.” She disappears, then returns with a paper. It’s typed in capital letters and has sprocket holes down each side. CARPOZI ENTERPRISES, I read, is a PARTNERSHIP. Business; PROPERTY MANAGEMENT. First partner; ALBERTO DISIBIO.

“What companies does Carpozi Enterprises own?”

“You’d have to look at every business license we have to answer that.”

“It’s my day off; why not?”

She leads me to a wall of file cabinets. “Let me get you a chair.”