“So, what do you do?” Marcie ventured. It was the second time she’d asked.
He tugged at his tie. “I told you. I’m in business.”
“You didn’t say what business.”
He shrugged. “Hey, the way I see it, business is business.”
“A junkyard’s a business. You don’t look like you do that.”
“Naw. White-collar, I mean.”
David Castleton ran his finger under his white collar, unbuttoned it, loosened his tie. Marcie couldn’t tell if he’d done it to make a joke, or if he’d been totally oblivious of the connection. Not wanting to rock the boat, she let it go.
“Let me guess,” she said. “Advertising?”
“No.”
“Maybe I just want it to be advertising so you can get me a commercial.”
“Uh huh.”
He wasn’t really listening. He glanced at his watch, then at the door.
Marcie frowned. Shit. He was meeting someone. That’s why he wasn’t interested. Of all the rotten breaks. If she was gonna get anything out of him, she was gonna have to move fast.
Which wasn’t gonna work. She was gonna have to wash the evening out, come back and try again tomorrow. Providing he came to this bar. Then she could talk to him again. But if he went anywhere else, there was no way she was gonna get away with the coincidence of bumping into him there.
No, the way Marcie saw it, there was only one way to go. Take the bull by the horns and try the ‘you’re waiting for someone, aren’t you?’ routine.
She was just about to do that when he said, “Excuse me,” and moved away from the bar.
And that was that. Win some, lose some. Wash out this assignment. Even though it wasn’t her fault, Marcie felt bad. She was good at what she did, and she liked to deliver the goods. Well, not this time.
Marcie watched as David Castleton pushed his way through the crowd, making his way to the door. Shit. He couldn’t be leaving, could he? If he did she’d have to follow, and that’d be a bitch, following him without being spotted after trying to pick him up. Relax, she told herself. He couldn’t be leaving, he’s waiting for someone. That’s it. They just came in. They just came in and he’s meeting them now.
As she watched, David Castleton raised his hand, called and waved to someone standing near the door. He squeezed his way past a young couple and reached the doorway. There. The young woman. Of course. No wonder she couldn’t make any time.
A girl standing in her line of vision stepped to the side and she could see the woman clearly. So, that’s what she was competing with. Slim figure, large breasts, and-
Oh shit!
Marcie took a breath. Jesus Christ, it was her, wasn’t it? It was the woman she’d been told to look out for. Christ, what did she do now? If they stayed here, she’d already made contact, so maybe she could get close and listen in.
But what if they left? She couldn’t really follow. She would if she had to, but it wouldn’t be wise. She should call for backup.
Which wouldn’t be easy. The phone was in the back of the bar near the rest rooms. She’d already scouted it out. It would be a bitch to get to in this crowd. But she had no choice. If they stayed, she’d have to phone. If they left, she’d have to follow. Either way, she had to be ready.
She swallowed the rest of her drink, put the glass down and moved away from the bar. It was tough to see them through the crowd. It would be tougher still to get to the door, if that’s where they were heading.
But they weren’t. He was leading her through the crowd back to the bar.
Okay. They’re staying. Go for the phone.
Marcie threaded her way through the crowd. She reached the pay phone in the back of the bar, dropped in a quarter, punched in the number. It rang twice and the switchboard picked up.
“Taylor Detective Agency.”
“It’s Marcie. It’s urgent. Get me Mark.”
Marcie craned her neck, looked down the bar just in time to see David Castleton toss down his drink, throw a couple of bucks on the bar and pick up the check.
Shit. They were leaving. He’d gone back to get his bar bill.
Mark Taylor’s voice was just saying, “Hello?” when Marcie dropped the receiver and began fighting her way through the crowd.
Knowing it was futile. Knowing she could never get there in time.
She was right.
By the time she got to the front door, they were gone.
12
“I fucked up.”
Steve Winslow frowned. Well, at least she wasn’t mincing any words.
Steve had just finished dinner and gotten back to his Greenwich Village apartment when Mark Taylor had called to tell him what happened. He’d taken a cab back uptown and gotten to the Taylor Detective Agency just in time for Marcie Keller’s debriefing.
Which wasn’t pleasant. Mark Taylor wasn’t in the best of moods. He obviously agreed with Marcie’s succinct assessment of the situation, and Steve figured it was only his presence that was keeping Taylor from taking her head off. So Steve found himself in the uncomfortable position of being a buffer between them. Which wasn’t easy, since he was pretty pissed off too.
“Tell me about it,” Steve said.
Marcie grimaced. “It was a bonehead play. I blew it.”
“We know that,” Taylor snapped. “Just give us the details.”
“Tell it from the beginning,” Steve said. “How did you pick him up and what happened?”
Marcie took a breath. “Okay. I staked out Castleton Industries on Third Avenue as instructed. I spotted him leaving work at approximately five-fifteen. I tailed him from there to an address on Fifth Avenue that turned out to be the apartment of Milton Castleton. He went in, came out an hour and five minutes later, and walked to a singles bar on Third Avenue about two blocks up from Castleton Industries.
“I followed him in, approached him at the bar, tried to lure him into conversation. He wasn’t having any. Which was strange, ’cause I was making myself look like an easy score. He wasn’t interested, so I figured he was either gay or he was meeting someone.
“Turned out he was meeting someone. Girl comes in. Short brown hair. Attractive face. Subtle makeup. Slim body, big breasts. I figure it’s her, the one I was told to look out for.
“So I got a big decision to make. If they leave there I gotta tail them, but it’s gonna be hard not to be spotted after trying to pick up the guy. What I should do is call for backup, but if they’re leaving right away there’s no time. The only phone’s in the back of the bar, the bar’s crowded and it’s not an easy call. I gotta watch and see what they’re gonna do. If they leave, I’m gone. If they stay, I call.
“Now he’s gone to meet her by the door, and they’re standing there and talking so I’m ready to go. But then he’s bringing her back to the bar where he’d been drinking. I figure they’re staying, I figure I’m shot as a tail, I gotta call for backup, then go back to my place at the bar, listen in on the conversation if I can, maybe even get an introduction. So I go to a phone to make the call.
“I figure wrong. The guy just went back for his bar bill. He grabs it, heads for the door. I drop the phone, try to follow, but it’s crowded, he’s got a head start, and by the time I get out the door they’re gone.”
She shrugged. “And that’s it. That’s the story. I fucked up, plain and simple.”
“That’s for sure,” Taylor said. “How many drinks you have?”
Marcie stiffened somewhat. Her chin came up. “Two.”
“Two what?”
“Martinis.”
Taylor snorted. “Shit.”
“I’m not drunk,” Marcie said. “I can hold it. I was trying for a pickup. I wasn’t gonna impress the guy as an easy lay sitting there drinking Diet Coke.”
Taylor opened his mouth to say something, but Steve held up his hand.
“Now hang on, Mark,” Steve said. “It’s a fuckup, but the way she tells it, I don’t see what else she could have done. Let’s stop worrying about what we didn’t get, and see what we got.”