So far, there was no sign of Plunder. Working in the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill area, Theo had found dozens of music halls, clubs, private party rooms, concert venues, bars and lounges, even wedding receptions. About half had websites or Facebook pages, and not one had mentioned a band called Plunder. He also found three underground weeklies that listed hundreds of possible venues for live music.
Using the office landline, Theo began cold calling, in alphabetical order. The first was a joint called Abbey’s Irish Rose in Durham. A scratchy voice said, “Abbey’s.”
Theo tried to lower his voice as much as possible. “Yes, could you tell me if the band Plunder is playing there tonight?”
“Never heard of ’em.”
“Thanks.” He hung up quickly.
At Brady’s Barbeque in Raleigh, a woman said, “We don’t have a band tonight.”
Theo, with every question scripted to learn as much as possible, asked, “Has Plunder ever played there?”
“Never heard of ’em.”
“Thanks.”
He plowed on, chewing up the alphabet, getting nowhere. There was a decent chance that Elsa would question the phone calls when she opened the monthly bill, and if this happened Theo would take the blame. He might even warn Elsa, tell her why he made the calls, and ask her to pay the bill without telling his parents. He would deal with it later. He had no choice but to use the office phone because his mother was a Nazi about his cell phone bill. If she saw a bunch of calls to a bunch of bars in Raleigh-Durham, he would have some explaining to do.
The first whiff of success came from a place called Traction in Chapel Hill. A helpful young man, who sounded no older than Theo, said he thought that Plunder had played there a few months earlier. He put Theo on hold and went to check with someone named Eddie. When it was confirmed that Plunder had passed through, the young man said, “You’re not thinking about booking them, are you?”
“Maybe,” Theo replied.
“Don’t. They can’t draw flies.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s a frat band.”
At exactly 11:00 a.m., he texted his mother: Home alone. Serial killer in basement.
She replied: Not funny. Love you.
Love u.
Theo plugged away, call after call, with little trace of Plunder.
Chase arrived around noon and unpacked his laptop. By then, Theo had chatted with over sixty managers, bartenders, waitresses, bouncers, even a dishwasher who spoke very little English. His brief conversations convinced him that Plunder was a bad band with a very small following. One bartender in Raleigh, who claimed to “know every band that ever came to town,” admitted he’d never heard of Plunder. On three occasions, the band was referred to as a “frat band.”
“Let’s check out the fraternities,” Chase said. “And the sororities, too.”
They soon learned that there were a lot of colleges and universities in the Raleigh-Durham area, with the obvious being Duke, UNC, and NC State. But within an hour’s drive, there were a dozen smaller schools. They decided to start with the larger ones. Minutes passed as the two pecked away, flying around the Internet, racing to be the first to find something useful. “Duke doesn’t have fraternity houses,” Chase said.
“What does that mean, in terms of parties and bands?” Theo asked.
“I’m not sure. Let’s come back to Duke. You take NC State and I’ll take UNC.”
Theo soon learned that NC State had twenty-four fraternities and nine sororities, most with an off-campus house as headquarters. It appeared as though each maintained a website, though they varied in quality. “How many frats at UNC?” Theo asked.
“Twenty-two for the boys and nine for the girls.”
“Let’s go through each website.”
“That’s what I’m doing.” Chase’s fingers never stopped moving. Theo was quick with his laptop, but not as quick as Chase. The two raced on, each determined to dig up the first bit of useful intelligence. Judge, who always preferred to sleep under things-tables, beds, chairs-snored quietly somewhere under the conference table.
The websites soon blurred together. They provided information on members, alumni, service projects, awards, calendars, and, most importantly, social events. The photos were endless-party scenes, ski trips, cookouts on the beach, Frisbee tournaments, and formals with the boys in tuxedos and the girls in fancy dresses. Theo caught himself looking forward to college.
The two schools played each other in football, with kickoff at 2:00 p.m. Theo knew this; in fact, he and Chase had discussed the line. NC State was a two-point favorite. Now, though, the line was not that interesting. The important part of the game was that it gave the fraternities another excuse to party. The game was in Chapel Hill, so evidently the State students had partied and danced on Friday night. The UNC fraternities and sororities were planning the same for Saturday night.
Theo closed another website and grunted in frustration. “I count ten frat parties last night at State, but only four websites give the names of the bands. If you’re announcing a party on your website, why wouldn’t you say who’s going to be playing?”
“Same here,” Chase said. “They rarely give the name of the band.”
“How many parties in Chapel Hill tonight?” Theo asked.
“Maybe a dozen. Looks like a big night.”
They finished the search of all websites at both schools. It was 1:00 p.m.
Theo texted his mother: With Chase. Ax murderers in hot pursuit. Won’t make it. Please take care of Judge. Love.
A few minutes later she replied: So nice to hear from you. Be safe. Love Mom.
Chapter 16
Theo found a bag of pretzels and two diet drinks in the small kitchen where the Boone amp; Boone firm waged quiet battles over food. The rules were simple: If you brought food that was not to be shared, then put your initials on it and hope for the best. Otherwise, everything was fair game. Reality, though, was more complicated. The “borrowing” of food from someone’s private stash was commonplace, and not entirely frowned upon. Courtesy demanded that if food was borrowed, it should be replaced as soon as possible. This led to all sorts of pranks. Mr. Boone referred to the kitchen as a “minefield” and refused to go near it.
Theo suspected the pretzels and drinks belonged to Dorothy, a secretary who was eternally trying to lose weight. He made a mental note to replenish her supply.
Chase had suggested they go to the high school at 2:00 p.m. to watch Strattenburg play its first basketball game of the season, and Theo agreed. He was tired of the Internet and considered their work useless. But he had one last idea. “Since the parties were at State last night, let’s go through each fraternity there, do a random check of several Facebook pages, and look at photos.”
“You said there were ten parties, right?” Chase was crunching on a thick pretzel.
“Yes, with four giving the name of the band. That leaves six parties with unknown bands.”
“And what, exactly, are we looking for?”
“Anything that might identify Plunder. Electric lights, a banner, the band’s name on the bass drum, anything.”
“So what if we find out that the band played at a frat party last night at NC State? Does that mean they’re playing tonight at UNC?”
“Maybe. Look, Chase, we’re just guessing here, all right? We’re throwing darts in the dark.”
“You got that right.”
“You have a better idea?”
