suspended from the ceiling by wires. “Listen to this right here. The third verse is comin’ up.”
“So?”
“The horn charts behind this verse are beautiful, man. The Ohio Players never did get much credit for the complexity in their shit.”
“That’s nice,” said Quinn. “You know, Janine was askin’ where you were when I was back in the office.”
“You tell her I was in Chinatown?”
“I don’t like lying to her.” Quinn’s eyes cut off Strange’s stare. “No, I didn’t say where you were.”
Strange had a sip of beer. “You met with Sue Tracy, right?”
“Yeah.”
“What’d you think?”
“She’s a pro. She’s nice.”
“Bet you didn’t find her all that hard to look at, either.”
“Knock it off.”
“Just wanted to make sure you still had some red blood runnin’ through your veins. While you’re sittin’ over there judgin’ me with your eyes.”
Quinn didn’t respond. Strange said, “Ron give you the sheet on the Marshall girl?”
“I got it.”
“What did it tell you?”
“She got popped for solicitation. It’s a no-paper, so we won’t be finding her in court.”
“She put an address on the form?” said Strange.
“A phony. But the spot where she wrote down her contact was interesting. A guy named Worldwide Wilson.”
“Worldwide.”
“Yeah, looks like she gave up the name of her pimp.”
“She give out his phone number, too?”
“She did write one down. But it’s got one of those number symbols after it.”
“Must be his pager.”
“Genius.”
“Just tryin’ to help you out, rookie.”
“Anyway, I’ll find out tonight.”
They watched the rest of Eve’s performance. The music programmer stuck with the Ohio Players and moved into “Far East Mississippi” and “Skin Tight.” Strange and Quinn ordered two more beers. Eve finished her shift and walked off through one of the doors behind the bar, accompanied by the stack-necked bouncer who had hard-eyed Quinn. A woman arrived, built similarly to Eve, and she began to dance in the same way Eve had danced, this time to a tune by the Gap Band. The woman’s behind rippled as if it were in a wind tunnel.
“This here must be strictly an ass joint,” said Quinn.
“And they asked me when I took you on, Will he make a good detective.”
“It’s like their signature dish.”
“Ledo’s Pizza got pizza. The Prime Rib’s got prime rib. Rick’s got ass.”
“You black guys do love the onion.”
“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna get to that.”
Soon Eve came out of the back room wearing a sheer top with no bra and matching shorts showing the lines of her thong. She was going around to the tables, shaking hands with the men, some of whom were slipping her money in appreciation of her performance. The stack-necked bouncer was never far from Eve. He had braided hair and a gold tooth. Quinn thought he looked like Warren Sapp, that football player. He was big as one.
“She’ll be here in a second, Terry. I’ll ask the questions, you don’t mind.”
“My case. Let me handle it, all right?”
Eve was a large woman, in proportion with her backside. Her nose was thick and wide, and her lips, painted a bright red, were prominent; her hands and feet had the size of a man’s. She had sprayed herself with some kind of sweet perfume, and it was strong on Strange and Quinn as she arrived at their table.
“Did you gentlemen like my performance?” she said, giving them a shy smile, her hand out.
“I did,” said Strange.
Quinn extended his hand, a twenty-dollar bill folded in it so that she could see the denomination. He pulled it back as she reached out for it.
“C’mon back when you have a minute,” said Quinn. “My friend and I want to talk to you.”
Eve kept her smile, but it twitched at one corner. Strange noticed her bad teeth, a common trait among hos.
