King of Swords

'April,' the man said with a cough.

'Beginning, middle, end?'

'End.'

'End?'

'That's what I said,' the man replied. He had an island accent — one of the smaller ones, Trinidad or Barbados.

'How can you be sure?'

'I just am.' He shrugged, like Joe was stupid.

Where d'you see him?'

'Outside Emmanuel's - barbershop across the road. He was getting in a car. He worked at Emmanuel's.'

'What kinda car?'

'Black limousine.'

'Was he well dressed?'

'Better than normal, sure. He was in a suit.'

'Did you talk to him?'

'No.'

'Were you friends?'

'He was a friendly person.'

'But were yon friends'? Did you like him?' 'He was OK. I didn't really know him too well, you know.'

Joe looked at him hard and then looked past him into what he could see of his home. Curtains drawn, several kids in the background crowding around a doorway to see what was happening.

'Did Neptune live with anyone?'

'Sure. Crystal. His girl.' He smiled lazily. Island Man liked her - probably why he hadn't been friends with Neptune, Joe reasoned: jealousy. Joe even went as far as to guess that Neptune might have warned Island Man off his woman.

'Tell me about this Crystal — she got a last name?'

'Never asked her that.'

'What she look like?'

He smiled again. Yellow, tobacco-stained teeth. 'Pretty lady,' he said. 'Built, you know.'

'Pretty lady, built. Very descriptive.' Joe stepped up to him. 'Height?'

'About mine. She was big down below. I like that.'

'Was she Haitian?' Joe asked, realizing that if he asked the man to describe her face he'd get a cell by cell fotofit of ebony booty. Exactly the way Max described three-quarters of his conquests and crushes.

'No. I think she said she was Dominican. Spoke Spanish only.'

'They have any kids?'

'Just them.'

'Visitors?'

'A few all-night parties.'

'You go?'

'No.'

'Ever see a tall fat guy with a hat around here?'

'No.' He shook his head.

'What's your name?'

'Why?'

'Just asking.'

'Arthur Jones.'

'How long you lived here, Arthur?'

'Two years this May past.'

°What about Neptune?'

'The same. We move in about the same time.'

'Was he friendly with anyone else around here?'

“Whole project knew him, mon. He cut everyone hair.'

'He cut yours?'

'No.'

'Why not?'

Arthur Jones smiled again.

“You fuck her?'Joe asked.

'Every night. In my dreams,' Jones said.

Emmanuel Polk was wiping down one of the three chairs in his barbershop when Joe walked in and introduced himself.

'Yeah, Neptune worked here,' he said. 'I was the guy made the call when he didn't show up for work on the Monday. In the eighteen months he worked for me, he was always early and always stayed late to help me clean 'n' close.

Like they say, “a model employee”.'

'Any police come by?'

'Sure.' He read from a card wedged into the mirror frame opposite the chair he was cleaning. 'Detective Matt Brinkley.'

'Right.' Joe nodded, not surprised they'd sent the worst guy in Missing Persons into Liberty City. Brinkley couldn't find snow in Alaska if it was pointed out to him. His specialty was helping old ladies cross the street.

The barbershop was small and cramped, two work stations on the right, one on the left, with a bench right next to it for waiting customers. On the wall were pictures of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, O. J. Simpson, Jim Brown, Bernie Casey, Leon Isaac Kennedy and Carl Weathers in his Apollo Creed costume.

'When d'you last see Neptune?'

'Sunday, 26 April. Around midday. Came by to get his hair cut. Said he was goin' to some party his cousin was throwin'. I was cool with that, you know. I live just above this place and I was happy to do him a favour.'

'Was he well dressed?'

'Yeah, in a suit. Looked fly.'

'Anyone with him?'

'His girl, Crystal. Dominican. Didn't speak much English, but I know a little espanol, so we got along good. Nice girl.'

'What was her last name?'

'Taino. She said it's the same name as the tribe of Indians that lived on the island when Columbus discovered it. She had that look too. Like Pochahontas, only darker.'

'What else do you remember about that day?'

'They got picked up outside-a here in a black car. A black Mercedes. Tinted windows.'

'Did anyone get out?'

'No. The passenger door opened. Neptune knew the people in there. Said hello and was laughin', all happy, like he ain't seen them people in a while.'

'He say where this party was at?'

'Somethin' 'bout Overtown. I think it was 2nd in Overtown.'

'You tell the detective this?'

'Sure. He wasn't writin' nothin' down though. He ain't called me back neither. I left six, seven messages fo' him.'

Polk looked disgusted. He was a bald man of medium height, with grey chest hairs curling over the open collar of his yellow polo-necked shirt and white sparkles in his stubble.

'I'm sorry to hear that, sir,' Joe said, meaning it.

'You one of the good ones, I know, I can tell. Got your book out.' Emmanuel looked at him, paused, then frowned.

'I been cuttin' folks' hair here since '6 5. Seen boys grow up into men, those same men grow old. I was cuttin' hair of all the construction guys built Baldwin. You know Neptune's the best employee I ever had? He's better than that. I ain't hired no one else to take his place, 'cause you know, he might be back. That's where he works right there.' He pointed to the single chair on the left. 'Used to be mine, but I let him have it on account of how popular he is with everyone.'

Emmanuel stopped and looked at the space behind the chair for a long moment, as if he was seeing Neptune there.

Then he caught sight of his sad face in the mirror and saw Joe studying him and snapped out of it.