His. Name. Was. The Hat.

He hugs me close with a big, meaty fist; a pugilist`s fist. He is older, to me he`s old; he looks at the camera full on, pale staring eyes above a bushy grey beard. His face is impassive; but he appears to be smiling too, a Mona Lisa smile; ambiguous […] The man`s name is The Hat of Chicago. Or Mac...