“Mr. Gulli!”
“Agent?”
“I don’t suppose you’d know who occupied this booth tonight?”
“Sure wouldn’t.”
“Do you have waiters here?”
“No, just a bus boy. Bogdan!”
Following the bartender’s eyes, Brome witnessed someone in a booth across the bar convulse out of a nap. He turned out to be a youth of no more than twenty, who, once his legs had unfolded with some struggle from under the table, came to stand almost as high as the bartender’s chin. Blond, in a white apron on top of a dark t-shirt. The bartender gestured at Brome, and the kid, as though forced to move by suction Gulli’s hand had created in the smoky air, floated closer. His red eyes regarded the agent with confusion.
“He doesn’t speak much English,” the bartender warned.
The bus boy shook his head. “A leetle beet.”
Brome turned and pointed at the empty table. Nodding gravely, the boy headed toward it.
“Hey, wait. No.” Brome had to reach out and catch the kid’s shoulder in order to prevent him from scooping the glasses. The sleepy eyes were now even more confused, moving between the agent’s face and the bartender’s.
“Mr. Gulli, how long does it usually take… Bogdan?.. to clean a vacant table after the patrons left.” The boy nodded again, thoughtfully.
“He’s pretty quick, especially on a busy night. Oh, I see what you’re saying, agent. Too bad I didn’t pay attention who sat in that booth.”
“How about you?” Brome turned to Bogdan. “You remember who occupied the table?”
“Yes,” Bogdan said. “People.”
“How many?”
“Two.” He raised two fingers after glancing at the glasses.
“Two men? Or a couple? How did they look?”
“Oh, I’m don’t know. Dark, many people. See full. See empty. I’m cleaning.”
Brighton returned from behind the curtain. The bartender turned away.
“A trapdoor,” Brighton announced. “Under the stage and into the basement, then sewer. Looks about a hundred years old. What’s this?”
“I think he was here. With somebody.”
“Why? Did the kid see him?”
“He saw the booth was occupied. He cleans empty tables. Quickly.”
“I see,” Brighton said.“Did Luke Whales give you an autograph? Who was with him? Did you see him go through there?”
“He doesn’t speak English.”
Bogdan nodded, uncertainly.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. Officer, get the DNA from the glasses and have someone check the phone in the back.”
“You found an OTG phone? Is there really no way to trace it?”
“No. Which is probably why Whales came to this shithole. I personally can’t understand why OTGs are not illegal yet.”
“That will be all,” Brome said to Bogdan, then seeing no immediate reaction, added, with a little wave of his hand, “Bye.”
The kid smiled, nodded and went back to his booth.
“There’s more,” Brome said. “The bartender says there was a cop here dressed in civvies right before the uniforms overran the place.”
“A detective?”
“I don’t know, but he’s not here now.”
“You think he was the one sharing the booth with Whales?”
“He didn’t buy a drink.”
“Whales might have been waiting for him, so he bought two.”
“Could be.”
“You got a description?”
“Fat, mustache,” Brome shrugged.
Brighton chuckled grimly.
“I can arrest half a dozen of those without leaving the spot. Hopefully we’ll get something better from the glasses.”
“Speaking of leaving the spot. Are we done here?”
“I was going to chew the bartender out for forgetting to mention the trapdoor, but… to hell with it. I’ll have a cop do it.”
“Sewers, then?”
“No need. I sent Robbins to check it out. Let’s go back to the office and sift through possible contacts.”
Chapter Seven
We were out of the sewers, but life didn’t stink any less. On the bright side I had enough cash chips to last a few months. Unfortunately, there was also the dim side, which said I wasn’t going to last long enough to spend that cash. With no plan and possibly the most recognizable face in North America, I didn’t have much going for me in the chances department. Or friends department. To be fair, I gained two companions, who seemed to be providing help, but the manner in which they had appeared and the fact that I had no idea who either of them were, were not all together reassuring. I felt like ever since I’d climbed over the fence that morning I was being led, or even passed around like a relay baton. It was time to stop the race.
We were in some alley, walking in silence, no so much “going somewhere,” as “away from somewhere.” It was getting cold. My companions, who seemed perfectly at ease and had given no indication of intending to stop in the foreseeable future, noticed my absence after a dozen steps and turned around.
The ninety-pound girl with a cute nose and some pretty insane conspiracy theories, and a much heavier cop look-alike named Lloyd. It was the latter whom I addressed first.
“I think it’s time we talked,” I said.
“You’re probably right,” said Lloyd.
“Now that we’re far enough from the bar and the cops, maybe you could tell me who you actually are.”
“We’re not far enough for that yet. But I will tell you this. I’m someone who knows you didn’t kill that guy. I know you’ve been set up and I even know who set you up, only I won’t tell you that, because right now, knowing it will do you more harm than good. Instead, I will tell you that I’m here to help you. And that for me to be able to do that, you’ll have to leave it at that for now.”
“Leave it at that?” I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. “You know who killed the draft marshal, and I’m supposed to ‘leave it at that’ so you can ‘help me?’ Are you out of your fucking mind? The only help I need is to prove that I didn’t kill the guy. The police are only after me because they think I killed the guy. Instead of pulling me out of that bar, all you had to do was tell them what you know. That’s it! I would have gotten my life back then and there.”
I inhaled and just kind of touched the sides of my head with my fingers, to make sure my skull hadn’t exploded. Lloyd watched me as though he didn’t know what I was. Iris watched us both with interest.
“Come on,” I said finally, turning around. “Let’s go back there. They’re probably still, you know, at the scene. We’ll just take care of it right now.”
I took a few pointed steps, confirmed that no one was following and stopped again.
“Why aren’t you coming?”
And suddenly it was obvious.
“Wait,” I said. “You don’t really know any of that. The killer, the set up, right? Otherwise it just wouldn’t make sense. You really are out of your mind. Missed your meds? Look, Lloyd, I don’t mean to offend. I know all about missing the meds and I appreciate you leading me out of that bar, but I think we should go our separate ways from here. Iris, I really appreciate all you’ve done, too. You should probably stay clear of me as well.”
“Where are you gonna go?” she asked.
“I think the best thing to do would be to find another phone and call my lawyer. Have him arrange a peaceful surrender, explain my flight by the lack of meds, go from there.”
“From there, you’ll have about a day to live,” said Lloyd.
“Oh, come on.”
“Look, I don’t care if you think I’m nuts, but you think you’re smart and you’re not. You’re stupid. You think proving you didn’t kill that man is your main problem, but it isn’t. Your main problem is why you were set up in the first place.”