Free Live Free

“Got it, sir,” Majewski said, and hanging up, turned back to his colleagues. “Look, I owe each of you ten, right?”

“Right,” the mystery fan announced firmly; Fuentes nodded.

“Okay.” Majewski drew out a money clip. “If I pay you, we’re square, aren’t we? The seventy’s between the woman and me.”

“Right,” the mystery fan said again, this time more hopefully.

“Fine.” Majewski handed him two fives and Fuentes a five and five singles, emptying the clip. “Now I want you and ’Cisco to do something for me.” He described Candy. “Her name’s Ms. Garth. Find her, and when you do, come tell me.”

“What for?” the mystery fan asked.

“Because I want to talk to her, that’s all. The guy on the phone gave me a message for her, all right? So look around.”

* * *

Fuentes went into the bar of the Gourmand Room. It was dark, smoky, and packed with the late crowd. Three bartenders in red jackets sweated behind the bar. A pianist in a midnight blue ruffled dinner jacket grinned and played, the brandy snifter on his instrument well stuffed with bills. Under a blue spot, a busty woman in a low-cut blue gown sang:

“Oh, she never told her mother,
For mothers’ hearts will break,
She never told her father,
About her big mistake,
She never told her sister,
’Cause sisters always tell,
She never told the Monsignor,
And so she went to …”

“HELL!” shouted a dozen enthusiastic drunks.

“A finishing school in New Jersey
Where the work was always hard—”

“Mees Garth,” sang Fuentes. “Call for Mees Garth!” The pneumatic blonde gave him a disgusted look.

A man in a check suit left the bar. “What do you want with Miss Garth?”

“Got a message for her.”

“Give it to me. I’ll see she gets it.”

“She’s in the powder room?”

The woman near the piano kissed her fingers to her audience.

“Now don’t forget her lesson,
For it is true, you know.
Don’t do a thing without a ring,
And now I’ve got to go.”

She hitched up the blue gown, which became a coat that hid most of her startling cleavage. When she stepped out of the blue spot, the coat was no longer even blue. Her audience clapped and whistled, and someone called, “Hey! Finish it!”

“I have to see a man about a bed,” she shouted back.

Another man stepped away from the bar. “How about having a drink with me first?”

“I’ll take a rain check, and I’ll see you real soon. Ozzie, what’s happening?”

Fuentes said, “You are Mees Garth? Go with me to the captain’s desk. We ask there for Joe.”

“Right. You better come too, Ozzie.”

Barnes whispered, “Aren’t you going to tell the piano player he has to split with you? I was watching, and there’s plenty in there.”

Candy shook her head. “Mostly ones and fives. You don’t get big dough in a joint like this, because how the hell are they going to get it on their expense accounts? They’ve got to pad it on, call it a cab ride or something, and the company back home will only stand for so much.”

“You should have had half, anyway. It was more than half for you.”

Fuentes said, “One floor down, Senor, Senorita. In lobby.” He held the elevator doors for them.

“Ozzie, asking isn’t getting. He’d have bitched like hell and ended up giving me twenty bucks, and the next time I wouldn’t be welcome. The way it was, I got a couple of free drinks, and I’ll get star treatment any time I come back. Golden oldies—did you notice? Nothing real raunchy. They loved ’em. If I hadn’t had to leave, I could have taken my pick of four or five johns, and with any luck he would have given me fifty or a hundred.”