'That both ends,' Hawk said, 'for Julius.'
I nodded. Outside the window wall a seagull landed on one of the ornamental mooring posts, and tucked his wings up and turned his head in profile checking for the remnants of a bite-sized donut hole that someone might have dropped, or a stray French fry. Gulls were actually pretty good-looking birds. The problem was that there were so many of them, and they were so raucous and eager, that no one ever bothered to notice that they had nice proportions.
'I asked Shirley if Anthony gambled and she had an odd look, just a flicker, before she said no.'
'Ordinary man woulda missed it,' Hawk said.
'True,' I said.
'And maybe he'd be right. It wasn't much.'
'Think he might be a gambler?'
'If he was it would be a place to start,' I said.
Hawk finished his coffee and looked up. The waitress was there, more alert than a seagull, and filled his cup. Hawk let his voice drop an octave or so and said, 'Thank you.' The waitress hovered for a moment, managed not to wiggle all over, and went away.
'And if he not a gambler?' Hawk said.
'Got no place to start.'
'So he a gambler,' Hawk said, 'until we find something better.'
'Maybe a gambler that fooled around on his wife.'
'And took Julius Ventura's money,' Hawk said.
'To do both.'
'So not a smart gambler,' I said.
'Maybe not even a live one,' Hawk said.
'Except Julius's daughter wants him back.'
'Maybe Julius had him chilled and then hired you and me to make it look good for the daughter.'
'Not a bad thought,' I said.
'But why hire you and me?'
'
'Cause we too good?'
'Yeah. There's lots of reputable private licenses around that could spend his money, look good, and find zip.'
Hawk nodded.
'Yeah, he already killed Anthony he don't want us looking into it.
'Cause we going to find out he did it. And you being a Boy Scout, going to tell.'
'So he must want him found,' I said.
'But why us? Why not his own people?'
Hawk smiled.
'Impress the daughter,' he said.
'Maybe. Maybe more than that.'
'Like maybe the son-in-law done something Julius don't want his own people to find out?' Hawk said.
'You're pretty smart,' I said, 'for an aging Negro man.'
'Sho'nuff,' Hawk said.
CHAPTER 4
Lennie Seltzer was in his usual booth at the Tennessee Tavern on Mass Avenue. He was talking on a portable phone and sipping beer. A laptop computer sat on the table in front of him, the lid up, the screen blank. On the seat across from him in the booth a briefcase stood open. As I sat down Lennie nodded at me and made a small gesture with his free hand at the bartender. I waited while Lennie listened to the phone. He didn't say anything. The bartender brought over a shot of Irish whisky and a draft beer.
Lennie always bought me a shot of Irish whisky and a beer when he saw me. I always drank the beer and left the whisky, but it didn't discourage Lennie at all. Lennie kept listening to the phone.
As he listened he turned on the computer. I drank some beer.
Finally Lennie said, 'Copacetic,' and hung up. He typed on the computer for a moment, looked at what he'd written, nodded to himself, hit a couple more keys on the computer, turned it off, and shut the lid. Then he picked up his beer bottle, poured a little into his glass, and drank some. He took a handkerchief from his breast pocket, patted his lips, refolded the handkerchief, and put it back.
'Question?' he said.
'How come you always buy me a shot of Irish whisky and a draught beer, even though you drink bottle beer,
