"Eight."
"Perhaps he's a little Casanova. Perhaps he sees the benefits of playing with girls, rather than boys."
"Perhaps," said Sherbet. "For now, he plays basketball."
"Even though he's clueless."
"Where there's a will there's a way."
"Even if it's your will and your way?" I asked.
"For now, it's the only way." He paused, then looked a little confused. He shook his head like a man realizing he had been mumbling out loud. "How the hell did we get on the subject of my kid's sexuality?"
"I forget," I said, shrugging.
He reached over and straightened the folder in front of him. The folder hadn't been crooked, now it was less uncrooked. "Yeah, well, let's get down to business. Here's the file. I made a copy of it for you. It's against procedures to give you a copy, but you check out okay. Hell, you worked for the federal government. And why the hell you've gone private is your own damn business."
I reached for the file, but he placed a big hand on it. "This is just between you and me. I don't normally give police files to private dicks."
"Luckily I'm not your average private dick."
"A dick with no dick," he said.
"Clever, detective," I said.
"Not really."
"No, not really," I admitted. "I just really want the file."