NAPLES, ITALY, the week before christmas. We take the tram to Circumvesuviana train station to meet Michele, with whom we intend to go find Luciano. Michele is late, stuck in traffic, so we go look for Luciano ourselves. The market is gorgeous, in a lively, primitive way. I’m not much use looking for Luciano if I’m ogling lush mounds of vegetables, shallow round trays of exotic shellfish in constantly freshened water, whole huge fish, and octopuses in five sizes. But we’re surprised to actually find Luciano and his cigarette stand. We had no idea what to look for: a shop? a kiosk? All we knew was that he sold cigarettes in the market somewhere.

We find him between the cabbages and bread loaves, across from a table of bras. His “stand” turns out to be a 15 x 20-inch tray containing 25-30 cigarette packs, which is set on an upturned carton. The cigarettes must be counterfeit or stolen, but we don’t know and we don’t ask. We wonder how he can make a living selling this small-profit item in such small numbers. Is it a front for something else?

Luciano is 63 now but he doesn’t look it. He didn’t look like 48 back when we first met him. His hair has almost no gray and his face is smooth, but his eyes are small and sad. I can’t tell if he’s surprised to see us or if he had an underworld heads-up. He introduces us to his wife and she mans the stand while he takes us to get coffee. We clown around a bit with the bartender, who recognizes us from the film. Luciano won’t allow us to pay for the coffee. As always, conversation with him is severely limited without a translator. We leave him at his stand and go wait for Michele at the train station.

Luciano speaks through Michele for hours. He’s taken aback when I remind him that we first met 14 years ago. He reminisces about our past meetings, including details I thought he’d have forgotten. Like the time he ran from us when we found him at work on a tram, then stopped, remembering us four blocks away and waiting for us to catch up.

Now we learn that Luciano was the first in his gang to start pickpocketing; that he was taught by Massimo Leo (not his real name), who is lionized as the best in town (and therefore the world). Massimo Leo is 56-58 now; in jail—or not, depending on who’s talking. In the beginning of his career Luciano made a lot of money. He bought a nice house, a car, good clothes, and luxuries. His friends saw him with all these things and wanted to join the trade and work with him. Eventually, he got sucked into gambling and lost everything.

Luciano lives just two minutes’ walk away. Bob wants to see his home and, more than that, he wants to meet Luciano’s brother Angelo. Luciano says come back at 5:30, Angelo will come.

This is Part 4. Read Part 5.
Read Part 1.