“Yes, a missing peddler, Jean-Paul Lumier.” He reached inside his pants pocket for a pen and notepad to take notes. “When did he disappear?”

“His wife, Isia, came to me two weeks ago. I went with her to file a police report.”

“Any idea why he disappeared?”

“His wife cannot account for his absence. He left to meet a friend and never returned. After another sleepless night, she came to me.”

“Have the police turned up anything?”

“The police have done nothing. They questioned her for twenty minutes.”

Jones presumed foul play. “Did Jean-Paul have enemies?”

“None. He was well liked.” He paused. “Except for Quaco.”

“Quaco?” Jones looked up. “How do you spell that? First name or last?”

“Neither, his real name is Jonathan Dankur. And it’s Q-u-a-c-o.”

Jones stopped writing. “Where does Quaco live?”

“I don’t know. He had a dispute with Jean-Paul.”

“Does Jean-Paul have a cell phone?”

“Yes, but it’s been disconnected.”

“Disconnected?”

The Imam shrugged. “I get a message that the line is no longer in service.”

“I need Jean-Paul’s and Isia’s cell phone numbers, if you have them.”

Jones wrote down the numbers. “I’d like to talk to Isia.”