tabloid moment

So, the phone centre that I have been using regularly to call abroad this year has just been busted: it turns out they were selling coke to half of Arezzo. I always liked the place because it was so quiet--there was never anybody using the phones. I guess the carabinieri noticed that too, because they raided it yesterday and found lots of cocaine and the equivalent of four years of my salary in the till. Plus, and this perplexes me, a register of the names of all their clients. I'm trying to imagine how that worked.
'A gram of your finest, my good man.'
'Certainly, sir. If I could just see some form of identification...'
And now I have to find another phone centre. Beh.