The story was that he held court in a booth at the back of a modest Mexican food restaurant where he would sip coffee, read the newspapers, and occasionally dispatch a messenger on an errand or two.
If you went to see him for a favor, he would act perplexed. "I don't know why you came to me," he'd say. "I really have no influence in such matters." Some more coffee and conversation later, he would mention, "I know of a man who might be able to help you." He would then jot down a phone number and caution, "Don't call him now. Call him next week."
And miraculously, when you spoke with the man, things would happen.
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