The Taxman Killeth

by Mitchell, Mary Ann

  Her thoughts were broken by someone waving an arm in her direction; without noticing who the person was she moved toward the motion.

  “Back again, huh? Saved a seat for you.” Morgan dusted off the bar stool, then patted the wooden seat as a formal invitation.

  “I’m looking for someone...”

  “Same as last time. Still haven’t found the right person? Here he is.” Morgan used both thumbs to point at himself.

  Amy didn’t think he would understand her search for a smelly bum. At least Morgan was a familiar face. She didn’t recognize the bartender.

  “Different crowd,” she said and took the proffered stool.

  “You’re just earlier, that’s all. These jerks will move on down the street in a while and the guys down the street will get bored and move up the street.”

  “Musical bars.”

  “Sort of. Can I interest you in a drink other than that watered down piss you had the last time?”

  “No. I’ll have...” His description didn’t make white wine enticing. “A Perrier.”

  The bartender glanced over at Morgan.

  “They don’t serve that kind of water around here. It’s tap or nothing. Give her a white wine.”

  Morgan had compromised. He ordered her drink but wouldn’t add the ice. She smiled at him, showing she could compromise, too, by not correcting him.

  “I’m glad to see you again,” he said, revealing the gaping holes between his teeth.

  Amy took a sip of the wine placed before her. She figured she needed something to soothe her jangled nerves. The acerbic taste made her face wrinkle up. She had never tasted battery acid, but she was sure this was close.

  “Not much of a drinker, are you?”

  “Social, mainly.”

  “We all are.”

  She scanned the room. More like lushes, she thought, watching the people around her guzzling down their alcohol.

  “You’re not the only one interested in Joey’s friends. Remember that smelly bum that ruined our evening the last time?”

  “How could I forget?” Amy was alert.

  “He was in the other night asking questions, too. Wanted to know all about the babe that Joey had been hanging out with.”

  “I didn’t know Joey had a girlfriend.”

  “Maybe he got tired of all the one-night stands he picked up here. Faces change periodically, but the personalities sure don’t.”

  “The ladies probably say the same.” Amy bit her tongue.

  “I presume that’s an insult.” He thought a second. “Hell, you got a good point,” he said, slapping her knee.

  Amy slid her legs away from Morgan.

  “Real touchy, aren’t you?” He laughed. “Or rather real untouchy. Have some more wine. If you don’t like it, I’ll order you something else. How about a beer? Low in alcohol and damn fresher than those dusty wine bottles they keep under the counter.”

  “Perhaps I should switch. Is it safe to order a light?”

  “Walt’s new at bartendering, don’t confuse him.”

  “Fine, I’ll have the same as you, without the little glass,” she added.

  “Want it already mixed? Joking; don’t get excited. Walt, a draft.”

  “That bum, does he come in here often?”

  “Don’t worry about him. He won’t bother us again. I set him straight about coming near me when I’m with you.” Morgan sat a bit straighter on the stool, and Amy noted that he even made an attempt to pull in his gut.

  Then her eyes started working the bar, checking out faces and body types. None resembled Todd.

  “You wouldn’t know where he lives, would you?”

  “What the hell would you want to know that for? Lives on the street, given his appearance, or in one of those flea bag joints a few blocks over.”

  “You think so?” Amy took a swallow of her beer.

  “Hey, are you one of those missionary types that like to save men? If so, hallelujah, save me.” He burped.

  “Amen,” she murmured. “In what direction are these... hotels?”

  Morgan scratched his head. “You’re not thinking about walking over there, are you? Because my place is no prize, but it’s heaven in comparison to those run-down dives. Of course, my apartment’s further away, but if you really get the hots...”

  “I’m quite cool, Morgan. I just want to know where the ‘dives’ are.”

  “I wouldn’t send you over there by yourself. It’s too dangerous. Finish your beer and I’ll take you on a tour.”

  Chapter 19

  Dangerously Handsome

  Amy wasn’t happy to have Morgan as a companion until they reached the street he had spoken about. Then she found herself instinctively walking close to Morgan, never straying from his side.

  “See what I mean? Let’s go back to the bar. This isn’t the kind of place you want to check out.”

  A young girl in a black, lacy top sans bra and a black micro-mini was coming toward them. Her brown hair was a quivering mass of ringlets of which Shirley Temple would have been proud. Her face, however, was more like Mae West’s, with heavy make-up and enhanced plump lips. Amy pushed Morgan toward the curb and the oncoming prostitute moved into their path. When Amy linked arms with Morgan and dragged him up against the building, the prostitute followed her lead.

  “If you’re trying to avoid her, forget it. She means to proposition us.”

  “Us?”

  “A menage-a-trois.”

  Amy gasped. “Why us?”

  Morgan looked around. “We’re the only potential customers on the street.”

  “But I’m with you. How does she know she isn’t intruding on my territory?”

  “Fanny, you don’t look like a street-walker.”

  For a moment, Amy didn’t know to whom he was speaking, until she saw that he was staring down at her. Thank heavens, he doesn’t remember my name, she thought.

  “Hi.” The woman’s broad smile was for Morgan. A second or two later she glanced at Amy. The smile seemed smaller, less friendly, but was still there.

  “We don’t want any, sister.” Morgan’s voice was gruff.

  “If that’s true, what are the two of you doing, passing time around here?”

  “Beats me.” Morgan shrugged his shoulders.

  “I’m looking for a man,” Amy said.

  The woman looked her up and down.

  “My old man wouldn’t mind obliging, for a price, honey.”

  Amy had miscommunicated. She looked at Morgan for support, but he was standing stone still with his mouth open.

  “Not that kind of man.”

  The woman checked out Morgan.

  “My old man isn’t into that kind of stuff. You’re on the wrong street.”

  “Hey, I’m not that way either,” Morgan protested.

  “What’d she do, drag you out of the house for some kinky entertainment?”

  “I hardly know this woman,” Morgan said, stepping back a few paces.

  “No. No. You’ve got it all wrong. I’m not into whips or chains or—”

  “Too bad, because my old man is.”

  Amy swallowed.

  “I’m simply looking for a man I know. I’m sure he’s staying in one of these... hotels.” A man walked out of the doorway before her, adjusting his pants while a woman followed. Each went in separate directions. “He’s dressed in a knit cap, old tweed jacket, and jeans. Has a full, dark beard, long, shaggy hair and a patch over his left eye.”

  “I think you’re better off with what you got,” the woman said nodding her head in Morgan’s direction.

  “That’s what I’ve been telling her.” Morgan decided to step back into the center of the discussion.

  “This is getting me nowhere. I’m going to have to go from desk clerk to desk clerk.”

  The woman threw Morgan a sympathetic look and moved on.

  “Hope you brought a bundle.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “None of these guy
s is going to tell you anything without you crossing his palm first.”

  “That’s what they would expect here, I suppose.” Amy sighed.

  “Damn straight.”

  “How are you fixed for cash?” she asked.

  Morgan took another step back.

  “Me? I’m the tour guide. I expect my own tip at the end of the trip.”

  Amy was sure he did. She took a quick look around and thought it best not to inform him that what he expected was not going to be forthcoming.

  “Where shall we start?”

  “I take it you do have cash, then,” Morgan said.

  “Not much, but I was planning on playing on the more generous sides of their natures.”

  Morgan laughed.

  “You’re a riot, Fanny.” Amy started to move to the closest doorway. “You don’t look like a Fanny. How come your parents named you that?” Morgan droned on until they were in a dilapidated vestibule that was called a lobby. The floor had the same small hexagonal tiles found in most bathrooms. The color was an off-white or off-beige or perhaps it was just permanently stained. Dark brown walls were peeling into white plaster, and one lone still-life hung on the wall. A man behind the desk in front of her waited expectantly.

  “You’re new here,” the desk clerk said.

  He was perceptive, Amy thought.

  The man was bald; he had a dark fringe around the lower portion of his skull and a day-old beard on his cheeks and chin.

  “I’ll have to charge you...”

  “No. We’re not looking for a room. I’m trying to find a person.”

  The man’s eyebrows popped up.

  “Sorry, Miss, I don’t see, hear, or know nothing.” He pulled out a coverless paperback with torn pages and began reading.

  “He’s...”

  Morgan rested a hand on her arm.

  “You sure your friend wants to be found?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “I’m here, so it’s become my business. From the way he looks and the kinds of questions he was asking me, I don’t think he wants to be found. He seems to be searching for someone himself.”

  “Maybe he is. But I can help him.”

  “Or dig his grave.”

  Amy’s eyes were stinging. She held her breath, trying to hold in the tears, but they fell.

  “Listen, if I’m reading this right, you and he knew each other in better times. He’s got to get something straightened out for himself. I don’t know what it is, but I do know he wouldn’t want you wandering around here.”

  She shook her head.

  “Why don’t I see you home?” Morgan raised his hands. “Like a gentleman. No hanky-panky. When your guy is ready, he’ll come back.”

  Again Amy shook her head.

  “I doubted him. He’ll never want to see me again.” She sniffed in between words.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll put a good word in for you the next time I see him.”

  Amy brightened up.

  “Would you tell him that I need to speak to him? I have some information that’s... private, and I need to give it to him directly.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  “Thank you. By the way, my name’s Amy.”

  ***

  Todd had spent the past several days trying to track down Morgan. He had to pull something more descriptive out of the man than the fact that Joey’s girlfriend had dark hair. Todd had been certain he’d find him at the bar on Saturday night, but the bartender informed him that he had left earlier with a female. No way he’d be coming back to the bar tonight.

  Todd brooded over his drink. He had met several people who claimed to know Joey well, but none of them really did. They were only casual bar acquaintances, and none ever remembered seeing him with a dame. Joey seemed to pick up the leftovers at the end of the night, and this occurred right up till the night before he died. If Joey had a steady, as Morgan had said, why would Joey have bothered to scrounge through the leftovers at the end of the evening? God, if Todd had Amy to go home to, he wouldn’t even bother hanging out with drinking buddies. Todd stopped himself. Amy kept recurring over and over in his thoughts. Maybe he needed variety to remind him of what else was out there.

  He scanned the room. A group of women walked in. One was young. Just out of her teens, he figured, but legal. His guess was that she was slumming for the thrill of it. He slipped the knit cap in his pocket and took off the jacket.

  “Here, mind taking care of this for me?” he asked the bartender.

  The bartender rolled the jacket into a ball and shoved it into the empty space under the register.

  “Thanks.”

  Todd ran his fingers through his hair and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Dangerously handsome, he decided before departing for the ladies’ table.

  ***

  Meanwhile, Morgan was reassuring Amy.

  “Trust in Morgan. I’ll find that guy, even if I have to play a little of that musical bar stuff myself.”

  Amy smiled, thankful that Morgan hadn’t asked any personal questions. Nor did he require the name of the man with the patch over his eye. He’d know him when he saw him, and that was all that was necessary.

  “I’ll drop by the bar myself in a few nights and...”

  “I don’t think so, Amy. It’s really not your environment,” he said, looking around the neighborhood in which they stood. “Here, I’ll give you my number, and you can call whenever you want. I live alone, so there’s no one to bother.”

  “What if you don’t find him in a few days? Then I’ll be coming back, but next time I’ll have the cash to buy the information that I need.”

  “Amy, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Wait, don’t say anything just yet. I got this feeling your guy’s in trouble, and all you’ll be doing by flashing some bills around is making him conspicuous. Why not wait it out?”

  “That’s impossible. He... We have a mutual friend that might be in trouble. No, she is in trouble, and I don’t know how to handle the problem alone.”

  “Okay. But at least give me a few days.”

  “Three days. And by the way, he’d better not call me here. I’ll have to make an appointment to meet him at the bar.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear that.” Amy was about to interrupt. Morgan raised his hands. “Will do, will do. I’ll try to set something up.”

  “Thank you,” she said, extending her hand.

  Morgan sighed and accepted, sliding his palm into her smaller one.

  “Didn’t think it would end like this. I thought you’d get disgusted and choose me over some shiftless bum. He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”

  “He means more to me each day.”

  Amy left Morgan at the entrance of her building, then proceeded to her apartment. When she got in, she immediately noticed the blinking light on the answering machine. Without removing her blazer, she rushed to see who had called.

  “Dammit, Amy, where the hell are you?” Todd’s growl ended in a loud click. She noted from the time stamp that they had just missed each other.

  ***

  Todd slammed the receiver back on the cradle and cursed loudly, attracting the attention of a meaty-looking male with tattoos scattered across his biceps.

  “You got some problem, man?”

  Todd was about to retort. He was eager to expend some of his anger. However, he was halted by a tug at his sleeve. He recognized the chirpy voice of the young lady he had spent the past two hours seducing. But it was seduction by rote, without the requisite desire.

  “Want to take me home?” The young woman’s tone was breathy, fake.

  “Listen, I’m too old for you. Why don’t you go back and join your friends?”

  “Can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they left five minutes ago.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you leave with them?”

  “I was waiting for you,” she said indignantly.

  �
�Come on, I’ll call you a cab,” he said, turning to the pay phone.

  “I’m broke,” she said, opening an empty change purse.

  He knew she probably would have emergency money tucked away someplace safe, but he offered to pay anyway; after all, he had wasted her time.

  Twenty minutes later Todd opened the door of a cab.

  “Aren’t you going to see me safely home?”

  The young woman refused to enter the cab.

  “No, I can’t. Here, this should be enough.” He handed her two twenty dollar bills, which she took readily.

  “I live with a roommate, who’s away in Europe for a month.”

  “Good for you. I don’t think the driver’s going to wait much longer.”

  The young woman leaned into his body and tousled his hair with her right hand while skimming the surface of his tee shirt with the other hand. Todd was about to walk away from her when from the corner of his eye he saw movement.

  Damn, he thought, he couldn’t leave her standing by herself in the middle of the street.

  “Where did you say you lived?” he asked.

  She told him her exact address.

  “Fine,” he said. “Get in.” He made a movement intended to make her think he was going to follow, but when she finally seated herself he slammed the door and gave quick directions to the driver. He slapped the back of the vehicle, then turned to face Morgan.

  Chapter 20

  Goodnight, Mr. Coleman

  “We’re even,” Morgan said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The little chickie that got away in the cab.”

  “No hard feelings,” Todd muttered. “I’ve been searching for you all evening. Heard you got lucky, didn’t think you’d be back.”

  “Yeah, ran into Amy.”

  Todd’s fists clenched. “You’ve been with her all this time?”

  “Hey, don’t blow a fuse, man. We’ve been wandering around trying to hunt you down. She thought you might be rooming at a local dive. I walked over a few blocks with her...”