As soon as they had all gone, I motioned to the Twins to close the door and come closer. I gestured for Critter, Lucinda and Bolan to take a seat and I took one myself.
“Here’s the skinny. I think Kevin is really gone. There’s just too much heat out there for there to be any other reasonable explanation. There’s a lot of pressure coming from the court for some reason. The sheriff is reporting directly to someone with a lot of clout. There is enough talent out there for an heir’s outing. That means a bunch of alpha toughs are going to be getting in everybody’s business.
“I am sure he told me just enough so I would realize how much pressure there is going to be to find someone who fits the bill. That aside, we have to keep the place going until we get some kind of word.”
“What about finding out what happened to Mr. Kevin?” Tarryk rumbled at me. I saw everyone else look expectantly at my face. The Twins were very unhappy. I didn’t like to see the twins unhappy. Not because I care so much about their personal joy, but because when they were unhappy, things and people tended to get damaged.
“Yeah, well, you let me worry about that. We took care of that bastard who got to Alicia and we’ll put paid to this SOB’s account too. You just be ready when I call.” That seemed to satisfy them, at least for the moment. “On that subject, let me ask this. Is there anything that you are holding back from the Sheriff? Now would be the time to let me have it.” They all looked at each other and nervously looked back at me. I hadn’t thought they would have anything, but it didn’t hurt to ask.
“No? Well, can anybody tell me what happened after I left? Did he say anything to anyone about where he was going or why?”
Lucinda look at me. “All he said was that he needed to get out for a while and for me to call the night guy in early. It wasn’t that unusual. He was always busy. In and out, checking on this and that, settling disputes, that kind of thing.”
“Was there any particular problem that was especially bothersome? Maybe some beef with an employee?”
“No. Nothing that I know of.” Lucinda shrugged. “He was a fair boss and made sure that everybody was taken care of. A nice guy.”
“Alright, if any of you think of anything else or you just want to talk to me privately, take my card and call, my office can find me.” I drew out my business card and passed them around. The twins didn’t really need them. They knew where I lived, but for the sake of harmony everybody got one.
“That’s settled then? Let’s deal with the Silver Tree.” I drew my breath and outlined my plan. “Really, Kevin didn’t do much but settle disputes and run the bar.” I raised my hand to quell the protest. ”Oh, I’m sure that he dealt with a lot of little details and probably approved orders and did some paper work, but the actual work in the club was done by the staff under your supervision.”
“That’s true as far as it goes” said Bolan “But how are you going to get everyone paid? Kevin paid us all in coin of the Realm, whatever realm that happened to be. I’m sure that his bank, whatever or wherever it might be isn’t going to let you withdraw funds. They’ll probably freeze the account.”
“That’s true, I hadn’t considered that.” I thought about what I knew about Kevin and money. It wasn’t much. He always seemed to have as much as he needed and didn’t seem distressed about the cost of things. “I’m sure the receipts will cover expenses eventually and I’ll guarantee at least the first payroll. I’m sure we can work something out with whoever held Kevin’s funds.”
With a surety of at least present employment the crew seemed a little more settled than before. There’s nothing like a paycheck to put problems and opportunities into prospective.
“Critter, you’re in charge of the kitchen and all matters concerning the menu and ordering food. While you’re in charge, don’t forget to consult with Lucinda and Bolan. They may have a better feel for what the customers are saying on the floor. But the final decision is yours. I know this may be new to you, but you also have the last few years worth of menus to help guide you.” Critter look slightly surprised to hear his name called and as I spoke he gradually took on an air of panic. “Relax. You’ve already been running the kitchen in regards to the cooking. This is just an extension of that. You’ll be fine.” Critter didn’t look like he believed me, but he was game to give it a try.
“Lucinda, the wait staff is your responsibility. Take care of scheduling, hiring, firing, settle disputes, whatever it takes to keep the food and booze flowing.” Lucinda nodded and smiled at me with those ageless elf eyes.
“Speaking of booze, I suppose we should get the late shift bartender in and have him cover the shift Kevin used to sit until we can get someone else. We will need to recruit a professional for the day shift. Ben Jefferson is strictly a nightimer. I’d like to see if we can find someone already on staff but we may have to go outside if we haven’t got anybody internal who can handle it. Bolan, I will leave that up you.”
“For anything else I haven’t thought of, Bolan will be in charge. That means linen service, private parties, special events or anything that isn’t covered already. I realize that’s a little vague, but there are too many eventualities to cover. It’s your job to make sure that the rest of the staff can do their jobs. I suspect you’ll be smoothing ruffled feathers here and there.” Bolan frowned at this and gave me a curt shake of his head.
“Finally, when it comes to security Jerryk and Terryk are the go to guys. You have trouble with a customer? Let them deal with it. They have all the knowledge they need to apply just the right amount of force to expedite a situation to a happy conclusion.” A wolfish grin from Jerryk and a chuckle from Terryk told me that they did indeed know the proper way to resolve a customer’s problem.
“Just one word of caution guys, there are a lot of law types out there now and I think you can expect more in the near future. Be discrete. Follow the Compact and if anything feels hinky, call me. I don’t know exactly what is going on with the Sheriff but something doesn’t feel right about this and I can see him using just about anything as pretext to put pressure on the bar to see which way people will jump. Don’t give him that chance. Be smart.”
“I’m going to hang around for a while and see what I can find out on my own.” Bolan looked pleased and I saw the others relax a little as they realized that there would be someone they could go to if they needed to.
“I’ll be in the bar and about the club if any of you need me for something. Just remember, Kevin had confidence in you and so do I. You can do this.”
As I watched them leave to try and get the place in order. I wondered if my cut and paste job would hold. I was relying on routine to keep people on course. If it worked, it would only be a screwed up mess, if it didn’t it would be a catastrophe. Still, it was worth a chance. I owed it to Kevin for past favors and besides, I would hate having to find a new place to drink. After 40 years of going to the same place, a guy gets used to things. Plus, it was handy to have a place where people didn’t wonder why you didn’t look a day older than when they met you 30 after 40 years ago.
Keeping the Silver Tree open had other advantages as well. Whoever had killed Kevin would probably be watching to see what the law would do and what was being said. I didn’t have a handle on Kevin’s murder and the Silver Tree was my best bet to make something happen.
In the meantime, I would poke my nose into anything I could and see who wanted to bloody it. Not elegant, I’ll admit, but effective. I would love to toss Kevin’s apartment right now but if I knew that they cops would be there and would love to have something on me. That would not do, so I decided to just talk to people and get a better idea of who all the players were at the bar. Maybe I could find out if there were any patrons I should know about, but don’t. At the same time I had to be careful not to get too noticed by the Sheriff or the Black Watch. Ah, the exciting life of the PI.
Chapter Six
After about five hours of making a nuisance of myself I decided that I should leave and head
for home. I was more than ready to see this day end. First there was Jeryn Callisandra and his little job at the court of Twilight, not mention his rather cryptic remarks regarding my “reputation” among the court. Add to that Kevin’s death and today had turned out to be a long and very bad day.
By the time I was ready to leave, most of the police types had gone, but on my way to the door I noticed that Sergeant Bermuda motioned me over. He was still here and keeping his too watchful eyes on the place.
“Mr. Underwood, I have your weapons here.” He indicated a small bag that was tied closed and sealed with runic wax. “I trust that you’ll find everything in the exact order that you surrendered it in. The seal will keep the bag closed until you have left the premises.”
I started to object but he held up a hand. “Just a precaution. Deputy Crosswich insisted, I’m afraid. I would also caution you about coming here armed for the foreseeable future, especially with so much cold iron. We’ll have some men poking around and observing the place for the next few days at least and heavily armed civilians make them nervous. Just a friendly word of advice.”
“Thanks.” I said, feeling anything but thankful. “I’ve got some advice for you. If you let Crosswich run this investigation you will never find out what happened to Kevin. He’s a bigoted ass and nobody here will talk to him. He doesn’t like half breeds or humans and working in the mortal world gives him hives, in short he is just about the worst detective you could assign to this case. Maybe if he had the manpower of a mortal police force he might get lucky, but this far from the court I can’t imagine he has the resources or the skill to bring the case to resolution.”
“Perhaps. But he is in charge of this case it is not for you or me to dispute this fact. We all have our roles to play and our orders to follow.” Bermuda looked anything but happy.
“Maybe he’ll get a break on this case. It’s been known to happen.” I gave the sergeant a friendly nod and headed home.
I made my way back through the mirror and returned to the mortal world and tried to push my questions out of my mind. It was late and getting later. I was tired and needed to get some sleep. I don’t sleep much, a benefit of my half breed status, but when I need sleep, I need it.
I hopped in a taxi and directed him to my townhouse. I live downtown, at the venerable Houston House, and have for quite a while. I suppose at some point I’ll have to change addresses and ID as it wouldn’t do for someone to notice that I wasn’t aging very fast, but for now I can tough it out, at least for a few more years.
I live on the 25th floor in a 3 bedroom apartment with a magnificent view of downtown. About four months ago I had put in a decent alarm system put in after a disagreeable incident with a couple of nasty locals. Naturally, I haven’t needed it since, but I still keep it turned on and working. A security system is like wearing a seatbelt. If you don’t do it all the time, it won’t be of any use when you need it, because you won’t have it on.
I unlocked the door and punched the code that would disarm the system and stepped inside. I knew something was not right the moment I opened the door. I don’t know whether it is an extra sense from being half fey or if it is just an instinct developed after decades as a private detective. In any case, my home had been disturbed.
I pulled my pistol out and started to make a sweep of the room when I heard a clinking sound from kitchen. I made my way past the cluttered bar and peeked past the post through the serving pass through and into the kitchen.
“Hey. You’re out of mayo. All you have is some nasty Ranch dressing that passes for mayo.” Marty Obromowitz stood in the kitchen and offered a scrapped jar for my inspection before unerringly tossing into the nearly full trashcan. He was dressed in a suit that fit, mostly, but he never really looked comfortable. I have always thought that this is what put made a client want to take a poke at him more than anything he actually said.
“Marty! Damnit! How many times have I asked you not to break into my home?” I holstered the Glock and breathed a sigh of relief. With Kevin’s death, I have to confess I was a little on edge. “I could’ve shot you, you know.”
“Nah. You aren’t a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ type of guy.” Marty had a serrated bread knife and was carefully cutting a ham and cheese sandwich into halves. It reminded me that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
Marty noticed me making eyes at his meal and raised his eyebrows. “You want one? I can make another, sans mayo of course. There’s plenty of ham”
He seemed oblivious to the fact that I knew there was plenty of ham since I had bought it at from the deli downstairs in the lobby of the building just a few days ago and that there was be a lot less of it than there should be thanks to his breaking and entering skills. “Yeah. You can make it with mustard if you want.”
I pulled up a stool and watched Marty start work on another sandwich on focaccia bread. He layered the thinly sliced virgina baked ham with a few slices of provolone cheese and added tomatoes, onions and thinly sliced black olives and topped the sandwich with a dollop of Dijon mustard.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this late night break-in other than to feed you ham and cheese?” I took the offered sandwich and settled in with beer and some crispy chips. Marty pulled a stool around to his side of the counter and followed suit. I find a cold beer the perfect accompaniment for a late night snack like this. The tang of the Dijon goes well with effervescence of a good beer. “How’d you get in anyway. The guy who sold me that system told me it was a good system.”
“It’s not a bad system. It’s just that I know you too well. You keep a copy of your code on that archaic rolodex you have at work. With the code it’s no problem to get in. That Schlage lock might be a challenge for some, but it and I are old friends.” He smiled and took a bite of his sandwich.
It’s true that there are few locks that Marty can’t pick given enough time. I have seen him take apart some of the most intimidating locks around without breaking much of a sweat. “I’ll have to change the damn code again. You still haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?”
“Well, to be honest, I’m not exactly sure myself.” He look thoughtful and snagged an olive. “I suppose I could say that I finished your case and wanted to deliver the results to you right away. It’s true, but that’s not the reason.”
“Already? That was damn fast. You’ve only had the case a few hours.”
“Dave, idiot that he is, wasn’t that far off. He had the right idea, but the wrong approach. I’ll get you a written report, with my bill, tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” I said sardonically.
“Hey, it could be worse. I could have milked this for a couple of days but I didn’t, I tied it up as quickly and as cheaply as possible.” He shrugged.
“Marty.” I began, “You could have told me any of this tomorrow. It doesn’t explain why you are sitting in my kitchen at midnight, eating my ham and drinking my beer. Tell me the real reason you’re here”
“Okay.” He nodded and looked at me for moment, perhaps considering what to say next. “Did you know that your office is under surveillance?”
A cold chill ran down my back. “Are you sure? Scratch that. Of course you’re sure. You wouldn’t have said something if you weren’t. Where from?”
“That’s the thing. There are two teams on you. One is setup across the street in the opposite building, the other is being ran from roadwork crew down in the street.”
“Are they tag teaming me or are they separate crews?”
He smiled. “That’s a good question. I can’t be positive of course without asking them, but I would guess that they are separate. At first I thought they were working together. But eventually I came to believe that they are two separate teams on the same target.”
“First, the guys across the way are pretty clumsy. They were dead easy to spot. You would have seen them the first time you looked out your window. Either they don’t care if you notice them or they are awful.” He paused and
pulled on his beer. “The other crew is a lot better. In fact, I almost didn’t spot them. Something just seemed wrong with the way they were working on the street. The truck that there were driving says that they are from Reliant energy and it sure seemed like they were working in the utility access tunnel until I realized that most of the tools I could see were for street repair and not utility repair.”
“That’s pretty thin. They could just be the road crew getting ready to tear it up.”
“Yeah, I thought of that, but it was after five and most crews don’t work late and there was a guy sitting in the truck, supposedly drinking coffee, but I noticed he had an earpiece and a camera. It was subtle, but they were definitely watching. It took me a half hour to be sure. I identified one of the guys working the crew. He’s local talent, works for Clearstar mostly, but I have used him myself on occasion, he’s good and expensive. You might know him, Chris McNeely?”
Naming Day (Jake Underwood Book 1) Page 6