One eyebrow went up and he drew in a sharp breath. “You came—”
I nodded. “Across the strip.”
His eyes rounded and he pushed his glasses up his nose. He stared at me in silence for a moment, then he seemed to make up his mind and nodded once. He palmed the c-note.
“In the back,” he said keeping his voice low.
I smiled and stood. “Does that jukebox back there work?”
He nodded and said a little louder, “It takes coins.” He grinned. “And, as a holdover, it’s cheap. If you put in a dollars’ worth of coins, you can play five. Enjoy.”
“Thank you, Joe. Mind if I take my drink back there?”
At his nod, I picked up my glass and headed to the back.
Chapter Twenty-three
I STOOD IN FRONT OF THE JUKEBOX TRYING TO pick out five tunes to which I could stand to listen. I didn’t like most of the recent ones, though there hadn’t been many to come out the last couple of years.
I needn’t have worried. The box was filled with old, pre-Event songs. I carefully chose five. Carefully because there were certain ones I didn’t want to hear. I dropped in four quarters and punched the buttons for the tunes I’d chosen. The lights on the box flashed and the first song began to play. It was an old rap tune from before I was born.
I turned around and not wasting any time, I crossed the small space and set what was left of my drink on the table as I slid into the booth across from the man sitting there gazing sadly at an empty glass.
Startled, he rocked back and stared at me with suspicious eyes. He looked rough, as if he’d been drinking a lot and sleeping little. His color was splotchy and the blue eyes that went with the shaggy blond hair were baggy and bloodshot. I judged him to be late forties or early fifties but you couldn’t always go by looks.
“Frank Berger?” At his tentative nod, I said, “I’m Tennessee Murray.” I reached a hand across the table.
He frowned, his eyes questioning, but he met my outstretched hand with his.
I smiled. “We have a mutual friend.” I gave him my ex-client’s name.
“Oh, yeah. Ain’t seen ‘im in a while,” he said relaxing a little. “How’s he doin’?”
“He’s fine, said to tell you hello.” I took a sip from my glass. “Look, I won’t beat around with this. Just to let you know, I’m not trying to sell you anything. What I need is information and he said you might be able to help me out.” I slid a fifty onto the table.
The music blared around us as he stared at it. Then his eyes flicked back to mine. “You a tracker?”
“Yes.”
Warily: “Warn’t sent by cops, was you?”
“No.”
He studied me for moment. “Who you lookin’ for?” He eyed the fifty again but didn’t try to pick it up.
“A young lady.” I hauled out the picture Madison gave me and held it out to him.
He took it and perused the image. I watched his face. I saw recognition there. My ex-client wouldn’t have given me his name if he had thought the man wouldn’t know something. He said Frank was the nosiest person in Blue Heaven and if anybody had seen the young woman or knew where she might be, he would be the one to see.
“I mightta seen ‘er,” he said handing the picture back. He licked his lips and hesitated.
“What are you drinking?” I asked.
“Vodka on th’ rocks.”
Odd choice. I’d never seen anyone drink straight vodka on the rocks, but to each his own poison. He didn’t appear to be flush with cash, but he’d likely passed on the cheap local made brews most of which, if they were anything like the ones I’d tried a while back, tasted like piss and burned like acid. Vodka was generally cheaper than other regular whiskeys though the ice would take the price up.
I nodded and signaled the bartender while indicating it was for Frank. Joe raised an eyebrow at me and I shook my head. I still had a couple of sips in my glass and once it was gone, I wouldn’t be having another. It was obvious he knew Frank’s favorite, though, as he nodded and clinked ice into a glass, poured from a bottle and brought the drink over. He smiled as he set the glass in front of Frank and placed a bowl of shelled peanuts in the middle of the table.
“Thanks, Joe. How much?” I asked.
“Fifteen. Peanuts are free.”
Not bad. Twelve for the vodka, three for the ice. Moreover, free hors d’oeuvres. I handed him twenty. “Keep the change.”
“You know, if you’re going to be here often, you can run a tab.” He gave me a hopeful grin.
I kind of liked Joe, but my plan was to find Morgan Effingham, get the hell out of Blue Heaven, and never return. I smiled. “That’s nice to know. Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”
He nodded and went back to the bar. I turned to Frank who had already knocked back half his drink.
He set the glass down and peered at me. “Ain’t seen you around here before. Been in Blue Heaven long?”
“No. Just got here tonight.”
He frowned. “Guards letcha in?”
“No.” I took a next-to-the-last sip from my glass.
He sat forward drawing in his breath. “Gawddam! Don’t tell me you come through th’ strip!”
“I did.”
“Shi-it!” He picked up his glass and downed the rest of his drink. He shook his head. “You either a crazy sumbitch or you got a lotta balls. Last time I heard of som’body gittin’ through that bitch alive was a feller by th’ name of Cue an’ he’s a crazy muthafucker!”
I grabbed some of the peanuts and chuckled. “Yes, I know him and you’re right. Look, I’m not trying to rush you, but could you tell me when and where you might’ve seen this young woman?” I gauged how drunk he was. Not very. I laid a twenty down on top of the fifty.
He glanced at the money and nodded.
“Yeah. I seen ‘er. Twice. I wouldn’na paid no ‘tention but she was right pretty and warn’t from around here. Almost got lost lookin’ at ‘er. Seen ‘er yesterday morning going down Main and seen ‘er agin ‘bout a quarter to seven tonight. She was with a man. Last I seen of ‘em they was headin’ down Carter Street. They ducked in a house.”
Carter Street. Interesting.
“Any idea of where they might’ve been before you saw them on Carter?”
“Naw, but they turned on Carter off a Main, and that time they was coming up Main.”
“Was she with the same man when you saw her yesterday?”
“Yeah.”
“Is there some sort of nightclub down Main?”
“Uh-uh. Ain’t no nightclubs in Blue Heaven, man, jist bars. You wanna go to a club you gotta go out in th’ city.”
I thought for a moment then asked, “Did she appear to want to be with him?” The two people that were at the nightclub with her Thursday, said she was flirting with a man and she left willingly with him. She told them he was taking her to a club in Blue Heaven. One of her friends had seen him around before and said he thought the guy was okay. But, this man, whoever he was, had lied to her. There was no nightclub. And, there was the fact that she’d not come home or contacted her sister since then, something the elder Ms. Effingham said was not usual.
He shifted around. “Well, she warn’t smilin’ if that’s whatcha mean, but she didn’t look like she was tryna git away from ‘im, either. ‘Course, not bein’ from around here she mightta been scared a gittin’ lost if she ditched ‘im.”
That could be the case, especially if she’d tried to leave him before, thereby learning about that particular hazard of being in Blue Heaven.
“You wouldn’t happen to know the address on Carter Street would you?”
“Naw, but it was th’ big house on th’ corner. Ever’body knows that house.”