Picked up at Goodwill.

“Before I became a locksmith, when I sat down for a meal, I sat down for a meal. Nothing except a fire could drag me out of a movie theater. I made plans, often in advance.

Now Joel Kostman is beeper-bound: a licensed knight of Vise-grips, the pick set, the hole saw. On call.

He’s also a master storyteller whose job provides him with all the material he needs. He arrives on the scene and in no time he’s heard about childhoods and children, lovers and fears. He’s repaired a lock for five guys dining naked in a steamy apartment in a subzero night, he’s changed a cylinder for Bugsby Siegel’s personal physician. He’s worn for a minute a jacket and tie of Eddie’s Cantor’s after rescuing the entertainments ninety-two year old cousin who’s lost his keys but kept the wardrobe for decades. “Tank God,” the old man cries when he sees his savior on the stairs. “You vill let me in.”