We
walked into the bar and took three empty stools. Sat in them actually, since it’d be kind of
stupid to take them anywhere. I mean,
what the hell would you do with them? At
any rate, we made ourselves comfortable and waited to be served. After a few minutes, the bartender came down
our way.
“Hiya
Rok,” I said. “Long time.”
“Actually,
it’s only been a couple of weeks,” he
said.
“Seems
longer.”
“Yeah. Maybe.
What can I do for you tonight?”
I pursed
my lips and shrugged. “Just talk.”
“’Bout
what?” he said.
“I don’t
know. Maybe a spy moose or two.”
“Not
much to say. Looks like they got him. And without your help or mine.”
“Yeah,
well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Your help, I mean.”
“Look,
Dick, this thing is over,” he said,
resting his anvil sized elbows on the bar.
“It was fun while it lasted, but there’s no game on anymore. The moose is dead, the jig is up, and that’s
just how it is. I’m sorry that it wasn’t
you that got him, but hey, that’s your problem, not mine. Now, do you want a beer, or what? I got a business to run here.”
“Not
anymore Rok.”
I saw
the first hint of fear in Rok’s eyes. He
squinted and moved his face a few inches closer to mine.
“Just
what are you trying to say?” he said.
“You
said it for me, remember? ‘The jig is
up’ are the words I think you used.”
“I think
it’s time for you boys to leave,” he
said. “Take a look around you. This is a dangerous crowd. Real easy for people to get hurt in here they
say the wrong thing. Hurt bad.”
“Fair
enough,” I said, nodding but not moving. “Say, Rok, what’s a beer going for around
here these days?”
“Huh?”
“A beer,
Rok. How much you charging?”
I had
pushed him as far as he was going to let me.
Now it was time to push him further.
“You’re
right, Rok. This is a tough crowd in
here. Wonder what they’d think if I told
them all about how you’ve been cheating them by jacking up the price of your
booze?”
I let
that sink in for a moment. As big as Rok
was, there was no way he could take on everyone in the bar, and he knew it.
“What do
you think Rok? You want to talk to me
now?”
Just in
case he wasn’t thoroughly on board, I directed his gaze to my hand, which was
conveniently holding my mini-howitzer, which in turn was conveniently pointed
right at his stomach.
“Why
don’t you three come on in the back,” he
said.
The
situation room looked very much the same, but it was dark and seemed quieter
now that it hadn’t been used for the past few days. Rok walked wearily to the back of the room
and took a seat at the table, a man defeated.
In the darkness I could see another figure already seated. I flipped on the light.
“Dickie
boy,” Stinky Pete said, “How ya doing?”
“Just
fine Stinky, just fine.”
“I don’t
suppose this is just a social call to talk about old times, now is it? Who ya got there with you? Couple of federal types?”
“My
partners.”
“Oh,
yeah, I recognize them now. Jimmy the
burnout and Simon the Simple. How you
boys doing?”
Jimmy seemed
delighted to be asked and started to tell them, but Simon jabbed an elbow in
his ribs to shut him up.
“Where
are my manners?” Stinky said, “Ya’ll
come over and have a seat, will you? Take
a load off and all that.”
“We’ll
stand, thanks,” I said, not wanting to
get anywhere near the biceps of either Stinky or Rok. I preferred to rely on the 12 feet of open
space and the muzzle of my gun between us to keep things cordial.
“Suit
yourself,” Stinky replied, leaning back
in his chair. “So what now?”
“Now I
tell you a story.”
“Oooo,
good, I love stories,” Jimmy said.
“Knock
it off Jimmy,” said Simon.
“It was
all very slick,” I continued. “I’m really amazed that you guys thought of
it. Building a mechanical moose and
sending it around the world to destroy every crop known to man. Not for political reasons. Not as an act of terrorism. But for the simple motive that’s behind
almost every crime ever committed: Money.
“You two
figured that if you could drive agricultural production to the brink of
extinction, it would force prices of all
agricultural products sky high. The same
agricultural products used in the making of liquor and beer. The world goes hungry, but Rok and Stinky
make a killing selling high dollar booze to the same poor saps that they’re
starving to death. I guess when you get
down to it, it’s always all about the Jack, isn’t it Stinky?”
“It was
working too,” he said, “and we would
have gotten away with it if it weren’t for you meddling detectives.”
“Duuuuuuuuude!” Jimmy said, “that is so just like on Scooby
Doo!”
“Shut up
Jimmy,” everyone said in unison.
“So how
did you figure it out?” Rok asked.
“Took me
a while, I’ll admit. But I was trying to
figure out one mystery when I actually had clues for two. I couldn’t see how they all fit together. The break came when I realized that they didn’t go together at all.”
Stinky
nodded at me, then at Rok. “I knew you
were going to be trouble the minute you showed up here asking questions. We could’ve just killed you Dick. But we never wanted to hurt you; we just
wanted to get you out of our way.”
“I
appreciate that. And I intend to do you
the same favor. Not killing you I mean. All you need to do is give me what I came
here for.”
“Now,
Dick, you know I can’t do that.”
I raised
the barrel of the gun and gave Stinky a good look at it. He reconsidered, as I thought he would.
“Alright,
alright,” he said. “It’s in the desk drawer, over by the
computer. Doesn’t make much difference
now anyway.”
I looked
at Simon and jerked my head. He walked
to the desk, opened the drawer, took out a manila envelope, and handed it to me. I tucked it away under my trench coat.
“Been
nice seeing you again, Dick,” Stinky
said. “I guess you’ll be on your way now. If I ever need you for anything, I’ll give
you a call.”
“Don’t
bother. I don’t work for inmates.”
Stinky
started laughing. “C’mon, Dick, it’s
great that you know what happened and all, but you got no proof, my friend. And since
I don’t fancy me or Rok making a confession anytime soon, it’s just your word
against ours and let’s face it, who’s gonna believe you?”
At that
moment the back door crashed open and six men dressed all in black burst
through. For a second I thought these
might be the same Kung Fu guys from Jimmy’s place come back for more (with
automatic weapons this time) until I saw Jackson Burroughs walk in the room
behind them.
“Nobody
needs to believe him, Stinky,” he said. “We got it all on tape.”
With
that, I nodded to Jackson and took my leave.
The
parking lot of the Barking Spider looked very much the same as it had last time
we were in town. Jimmy & Simon were
waiting for me, sitting on the hood of the Impala, which, as it turned out, had
been parked here the whole time. We were
about to get in when Jackson emerged from the front door of the bar.
“Lassiter,” he called out. “Need a word.”
I told
Jimmy and Simon to get in the car and then walked over to where Jackson was
standing.
“Yeah?” I said.
“Listen,
I just wanted to say thanks. This whole
thing . . . ,” he said, looking away and shaking his head,
“it’s not what we thought it was at all.
Just want to let you know we appreciate your help.”
He held
out the second manila envelope that I had seen in the past 10 minutes. I took it from him.
“You’re
welcome,” I said, and turned to go.
“Dick,
wait,” he said. I stopped and turned back to him. Whole lotta turning going on all of a sudden. Almost got dizzy and fell. Didn’t though. Wouldn’t be cool.
“While
you were in there,” he continued, “I
couldn’t help but hear. What did he give
you Dick?”
“Nothing
important,” I said. “Just my bar tab. Want to square my bill.”
“Bar
tab, huh?” he said, chuckling. “Yeah, okay.
Get out of here Lassiter.”
I
started walking back to the car again but stopped halfway there and looked back.
“Hey
Burroughs.”
“Yeah?”
“You
might want to run a check on that Porsche over there. I got a feeling it’s hot.”
“Yeah. I’ll do that.”
The
Impala cranked up on the fourth try and we blew out of the parking lot, leaving
it covered with a shroud of exhaust.
Next Week: Chapter 25
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