can discern, it is the only common thread they share. Now, I’ve never heard of Poitier’s and I’ve asked around a bit and gotten nothing. Even Red and the rest of the jazz boys didn’t recognize the name, and those boys are usually fairly knowledgeable in this area.”
“What area is that?”
“Pharmaceuticals.”
“What makes you think that’s what this is all about?”
“Boris had that odd opiate in his pocket, remember? Got it from somewhere, and this drugstore certainly seems like the right place to start. Worth a look, anyway. So I thought we might go sniff about the place, no need for any subterfuge, though mustache disguises would be fun.”
Will ignored Oliver’s theatrics. “It’s probably only a regular old pharmacy.”
Oliver shook his head. “No, it’s definitely a suspicious outfit. The shop isn’t listed in any directory I could find, and when I dialed that number the phone was picked up but whoever was on the other end of the line did not say a single word. I’m telling you, that silence gave me chills.”
Will shrugged. “Maybe their telephone’s busted.”
“Doubtful.”
“It’s probably perfectly innocent, Oliver. Maybe it is where Boris and Ned both bought their toothpaste. Think about it, criminals don’t generally hand out business cards.”
“Yes, but turn that argument around—when you buy toothpaste, do you generally pick up a business card?” Oliver downed the last of his coffee while Will prepared to accept the inevitable. “Shall we head out then?” asked Oliver.
“Give me a minute to get dressed,” said Will, shaking his head with disbelief at his willingness to go along.
“Yes, of course, me too,” said Oliver. “I’ll leave a note for the girls and tell them that, in penance for abandoning them, we’ll take them out tonight for a nice dinner, someplace fun like Le Procope.”
A few minutes later, the two headed out. As they reached the street, Will put his hand up for a passing cab but Oliver pulled it back. “We can’t very well do a stakeout perched in the back of a cab, the fare would be astronomical. I borrowed that from a friend.” He pointed across the street to a parked Bel Air. “Don’t worry, I’m happy to drive.”
It was early and traffic was light so they crossed town quickly and, after turning down a few backstreets, found the desired block. Cruising slowly by the building, they saw no signage, either on the windows or hanging above the door. The shutters were drawn and there was no sign of life. Oliver pulled the car up to the far corner of the block and parked.
“Now what?” asked Will.
“Now we wait and see.”
Will looked around the abandoned street. “Why’d we have to come so early?”
“Well, if one wants to see who opens up the shop, best to be there before the shop opens.”
Will couldn’t dispute the logic, but he was tired and it was chilly. For the next hour he wrapped himself in his wool coat and tried to get some rest while Oliver watched the pharmacy in the side mirror. Eventually Will dozed off.
He wasn’t sure how long he slept, but when he came to, the neighborhood was busy amid its routine morning bustle. The small markets had opened their doors, cafes had placed their chalkboard signs out on the sidewalk, and cars, pedestrians, and bicycles all rushed and rattled by. A group of children in their Catholic school uniforms headed off to school. The smell of country bacon cooking somewhere made Will hungry. He looked over at Oliver, who was still intently focused on the pharmacy. Will dug out a pack of Gitanes, hoping to kill his appetite. “So, what is the story with you and Gwen?” he asked.
“Please, let’s keep the office gossip to a minimum.”
“Sorry, just trying to make small talk.”
“You’ll find I take my work very seriously when I’m on the job, doubly so when I’m being paid overtime.”
“Wait, you’re getting paid for this?” said Will. “What am I getting?”
Oliver took a cigarette and lit it. “You’re getting answers.”
They sat in silence. After all the running around of the past few days, Will was enjoying this slow, peaceful morning. Instead of murder and intrigue, they were merely sitting in a car, watching a door. The quiet was comforting. Will leaned back in the seat and replayed highlights of old Tigers games in his head.
He finished his cigarette and fell back into a light sleep, only coming to when Oliver nudged him. “I’ve got to find a
He glanced at his watch, it was almost eleven. Looking up again at the rearview mirror, he noticed a figure approaching the pharmacy. The man seemed familiar to Will, though he could not remember from where. The man gave a quick glance around before ducking in the pharmacy’s front door. Will tried to place him, but he had no luck. He wasn’t very good with faces, a fact, he realized, that did not make him particularly well suited for intelligence work. He was relieved when Oliver finally came back to the car. Sliding over to the passenger seat, Will told Oliver about the man.
“You say he looked familiar?”
“Very.”
“But you don’t know from where.” Oliver drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “You think he is from the agency?”
Will was confused. “When you say ‘agency,’ do you mean my advertising agency or the Central Intelligence Agency?”
“Either will do. Now think, who is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, it’s fine. When he exits, you’ll have a chance to try again.”
So they sat there, watching and waiting. No one emerged from the pharmacy. “Well, I’m fairly certain of one thing,” Oliver finally said. “That man is not here for his toothpaste.” Will nodded, a little disappointed. He had actually hoped this errand would be a dead end; sitting doing nothing in the car had been a nice idyll. Now, though, he could feel the wheels coming to life, all the complexity churning into motion again. It made him feel slightly sick and queasy, reminding him of the feeling he had as a young boy in his West Detroit Little League uniform, standing alone in the peaceful serenity of right field amid the heavenly quiet, which would inevitably be horribly punctuated by the crack of some slugger’s bat hitting a ball out toward him. He remembered watching the ball fly up high in its arcing, parabolic pop-up before coming maliciously back down, bringing so much chaos and mischief hurtling right into the heart of his awkward, uncoordinated life. Ever since he met Oliver, he felt like that, clumsily stumbling around, trying to chase down one fly ball after another.
His nausea was only made worse by the car’s stale air, a thin haze of cigarette smoke having permeated everything. Also, it didn’t help that Oliver was starting to smell. Will closed his eyes and tried to think of other things, imagining Zoya’s scent, her skin and neck and hair, and the taste down between her legs, which, for some reason, at that moment brought to mind a savory Moroccan tagine. He smiled at the thought, which also made his cock stir, and then suddenly he felt self-conscious, hoping his friend would not notice. An erection in a moment of close camaraderie like this could be tricky to explain. Will opened his eyes and sat up, suddenly impatient to get out of the car and stretch his legs, but also not wanting to move. He was concentrating on trying to relax when Oliver shot up straight with excitement.
“My gosh, you’re right, we do know him,” said Oliver. They both looked out the rear window as the man emerged from the pharmacy. “It’s Jake.”
“Jake?” Will said.
“You know him, Will. You met him the other night.” Then Will remembered, Jake had been the fourth member of the meeting at the nightclub, the sleepy one. “Question is, what in the good Lord’s name is he doing here?” Oliver said, watching Jake disappear down the street.
“Why don’t we go and ask him?” Will offered.
