“Whattime is it?”
“Nightfall,”he said. “I’m about to head to Murray’s to see if Blake shows up. Youshould stay here.”
Sheclosed up at the mention of Blake, slouching and hugging herself. Hesmoothed her hair back and left a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“I’llbe safe here?” she asked.
“Yes.I promise.”
“Whathappens if Blake does show up? What can you possibly do? Rick,if he hurts you because of me—”
“It’llbe fine, Helen.”
Hewashed up, found a clean shirt, ran a comb through his hair, and leftthe lair.
Blakedid, in fact, show up at the bar that night. Rick kept his place behindthe taps and watched him scan the room before choosing a seat nearthe bar.
“Bourbon,”he muttered. Rick poured and pushed the tumbler over.
Scowling,Blake drained the liquor in one go. After some time, when it was clearHelen wasn’t going to appear, he set his stare on Rick, who didn’t haveany trouble pretending not to notice. Leaning on his elbow, Blakepushed back his jacket to show off his gun in its shoulder holster.
“So.Did she ever show up?” the man said.
“Who?The girl?”
“Youknow who I’m talking about.”
“CanI ask why you’re looking for her?”
“Ijust want to talk to her. We can work something out. You know whereshe’s hiding, don’t you?”
“Sir,I really can’t help you.”
Blakenarrowed his gaze, looking him up and down—sizing him up, and Rick knewwhat he was thinking. He was thinking he was looking at a wimp, acoward, a young guy who’d sat out the war, who’d be easy to take downin a fight. Blake was thinking all he’d have to do was wave the gunaround, break his nose, and he’d take him right to Helen because nobroad was worth sticking up for like that.
Ricksmiled, knowing it would make him crazy. Blake scowled and walked out.
Rickhad the rest of the night mapped out. He knew what would happen next,how it would all play, a bit of urban theater, predictable yetsomehow satisfying. Last call came and went; he offered to close up.After locking the doors, he set chairs upside down on tables, gave thefloor a quick sweeping and the bar a wipe-down, turned off all thelights, and went out the back, where Blake was waiting for him.
Blakelunged from the shadows with a right hook, obviously intendingto take Rick out in a second and keep him from gaining his bearings.
Ricksidestepped out of the way. Blake stumbled, and Rick pivoted,grabbing Blake’s shirt, yanking him further off balance, then swinginghim headfirst into the wall. The man slid to the ground, limbs flailingfor purchase, scrabbling at Rick, the wall, anything. The sequence tookless than a second—Blake wouldn’t have had a chance to realize hisright hook had missed. He must have thought the world turned upsidedown.
WrenchingBlake’s arm back, Rick dragged him a dozen feet along the pavement inthe back alley. The shoulder joint popped; Blake hollered. With a flickof the same injured arm, Rick flipped Blake faceup—bloody scrapescovered his cheek and jaw. Jumping on him, Rick pinned him, holding himwith strength rather than weight—Blake was the larger man. He broughthis face close to smell the rich, sweet fluid leaking from him. Rickcould drain the man dead.
Afloodlight filled the alley, blinding even Rick, who shaded his eyeswith a raised arm. Squinting, he needed a moment to make out the scene:a police car had pulled into the alley.
“Youtwo! Break it up!” a man shouted from the driver’s-side window.
Climbingto his feet, Rick held up his hands. Next to him, Blake was stillscrambling to recover, scratching at the cut on his face, shaking hishead like a cave creature emerging into the open.
Thecop had a partner, who stormed out of the passenger side and came atthem, nightstick in hand. He shoved Rick face first to the brick walland patted him down. “What’s this? A couple of drunks duking it out?”
Rickdidn’t speak and didn’t react. He could have fought free, stunned theofficer, and disappeared into the shadows. But he waited, curious.
“Whathave you got there?” the driver asked.
“Acouple of drunks. Should webring ’em in?”
“Waita minute—that guy on the ground. Is that Charles Blake?”
Thecop grabbed Blake by the collar and dragged him into the light.
“That’sit, bring ’em both in.”
Rickrode in the back of the squad car next to Blake, trying to decide if heshould be amused or concerned. Dawn was still a few hours away. He hadtime to watch this play out. Blake was hunched over, breathing wetly,glancing at Rick every now and then to glare at him.
Withinthe hour, Rick was sitting in a bare, dank interrogation room, talkingto a plainclothes detective, a guy named Simpson. He lit a cigaretteand offered one to Rick, who declined.
Hesaid, “You were picked up fighting with Charles Blake behind Murray’s.”
“That’sright,” Rick answered.
“Youwant to tell me why?”
Rickleaned back and crossed his arms. “I expected to be thrown in the drunktank when I got here, but you’re interested in Blake. Can I ask why?”
“Whatdo you know about him?”
“He’sbeen bothering a girl I know.”
“Yourgirl?” Rick shrugged, and the detective flicked ashes on the floor.“That’s why you were beating on him? I don’t suppose I can blame youfor that.”
“IsBlake dangerous?”
“Doyou think he is?”
“Yes,”Rick said.
Thedetective studied him, but Rick didn’t give much away. If he needed to,he could catch the man’s eye and talk him into letting Rick go. Itwould certainly come to that if he was still here close to dawn.
Finally,the detective said, “You’re right. He’s the primary suspect in amurder case. You have anything else about him you want to share?”
Thisgave Rick an idea. “I might know someone who can help you.”
“If I let you go—I know how that works.”
“I’mthe bartender at Murray’s—I won’t disappear on you.”
“Andhow good isthis information of yours?”
“Worththe wait, I think.”
“Youknow what? You’re a little too cagey for a bartender. Is that all youdo?”
Rickchuckled. “Right now it is.”
“Ineed evidence to lay on Blake if we’re going to keep him locked up—andkeep him away from your girlfriend. Can you help me out?”
“Stopby Murray’s tomorrow night and I’ll have an answer.”
Thedetective lethim go.
Rickknew he’d be followed—for a time, at least. He returned to Arturo’s bya roundabout route and managed to vanish, at least from his tail’spoint of view.
Helenwas waiting for
