'Why here?' I said to Hawk as we walked toward them.
Hawk shrugged. 'Likes the food, I guess. Man was willing to come, I didn't ask many questions.'
We reached the booth. Marcus smiled. The four guys at the table all looked at us without any expressions. Marcus gestured that we should sit across from him and we did. Hawk slid in first and I sat beside him.
'Tony,' I said.
'Good Szechwan cooking,' Marcus said. 'You like Szechwan, this is the place. Better than Chinatown.'
I nodded. A waiter showed up with some Chinese beer and put it down and went away. 'I already ordered,' Marcus said.
'Thoughtful,' I said.
The waiter returned with two platters of Peking ravioli and some hoisin sauce. Marcus smiled again, and rubbed his hands softly together. We each ate a ravioli and drank some beer. The four guys at the next table weren't eating or drinking. They just sat.
'Understand you looking for a man,' Marcus said.
'Art Floyd,' I said. Marcus nodded.
'You know him?' I said.
Marcus nodded again. He speared a second ravioli from the platter and spooned a little sauce over it and cut it in two with the edge of his fork.
'You find him he going to be in trouble?'
'I don't know,' I said. 'I'm looking for a kid and it depends on how willing he is to help me.'
Tony ate half his ravioli. Patted his lips with his napkin, took a sip of Tsingtao beer, and said, 'Maybe it ought to depend on whether I want him in trouble or nor.'
'Do you?' I said.
Marcus smiled again. 'Un huh.'
I nodded. 'That's what you get out of it,' I said.
'Un huh.'
'What kind of trouble you want him in?'
'What kind you got?' Marcus said.
'Tell me about him,' I said. 'We can work something out.'
The Peking ravioli were gone. The waiter took the platter, replaced it with mu-shu pork and another round of beers.
'Running whores is traditionally black turf,' Marcus said. 'In New York, in Chicago, in Detroit… here.' He put a pancake on his plate and added a spoonful of mu-shu and carefully folded it over into a neat package and took a bite. Then he drank some beer and used his napkin. 'Been that way a long time and everyone sort of accepts that.'
I nodded.
'Which means here it's mine,' Marcus said.
'Okay by me,' I said.
'Even if it's not,' Marcus said.
'Just being polite,' I said.
'Polite is shutting up and listening, sowbelly,' Marcus said.
I looked at Hawk. 'Sowbelly?'
'White,' Hawk said, 'like salt pork. He insulting you.'
'Ahhh,' I said.
'Maybe you ought to sit on it too, Hawk,' Marcus said. The four guys at the next table all looked over at us. Hawk poured the rest of his second bottle of beer into his glass, tipping the glass slightly so that the head of foam worked just right. He put the empty bottle down, picked up the glass, took a sip, looked for a minute at the color of the beer, holding it so the light showed through. Then he put the glass down and leaned back in the booth and looked at Marcus.
'Ain't enough of you, Tony, to smartmouth both of us,' he said.
Marcus looked back at him and then looked away. 'Fuck that,' he said, and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. 'Let's talk business.'
Hawk smiled and drank a little more beer. I waited.
'Artie Floyd works for a guy named Perry Lehman. You know Lehman?'
I nodded. 'Skin magazines.'
'That's one part of it,' Marcus said. 'Soft porn, hard porn, gay porn, kid porn, fetish porn.' Marcus paused and finished his pancake. He made another one. 'Lehman got magazines for every taste.'
The waiter appeared and took away the empty platters and brought a bowl of steamed rice and a platter of chicken with cashews. Marcus gestured at the beer and the waiter went for some.
