Zookin99

​They don't put Zookin's name on the payroll, and he likes it that way. In a city where bullets are loud and federal indictments are messy, Zookin deals in the quiet currency: leverage.​Operating out of the corner booth at Blue Velvet, half-hidden behind a rising curl of cigarette smoke and a short glass of rye, he looks like just another sharp dresser in a pinstriped wool suit. But the fedora isn't just for style, and the vintage rangefinder camera resting on the table isn't there to capture tourist sights.