Twitchy

Chapter 5

    The night club had far fewer patrons than an hour ago. Pear himself was gone. The stage was still lit, and a bassist and jazz singer were performing a slow, lounge lizard duet. One look at Fox and they knew he wasn't any normal guest. The song finished and a few polite claps ensued, but the performers were already backstage. Fox sidestepped behind the curtain and gave a slow, sardonic clap.
    "Very nice, very nice. The name's Fox. I'm a big fan of your work. Your… other work."
    Turjo closed the case of his stringed bass and approached Fox. "You're here for something, so spit it out."
    Eva put a hand in front of Turjo to stop him, stepping forward. "Eva. Charmed, I'm sure. This is Turjo. Now, why don't you expound on your previous question, I'm not quite sure I caught your meaning." Eva smiled, eyes narrowed knowingly.
    "Zen. Goes by Mr. Yeeeta. I need to get in contact with him, and I was told you're the one to talk to."
    "Yeah, he comes by from time to time, always gets a drink before his next hit. Whiskey Sour, according to Kat. Don't know much about the guy, but Tango might know more. He sits at that bar from dawn till dusk."
    Fox nodded and made his way to the bar. Tango wasn't hard to find. He was loudly boasting his achievements in between Jell-O shots.
    "I'm telling you! Career best EVERY. SINGLE. TIME." he was obviously drunk, his words slurring together. Fox wasn't sure how much he could get out of him, but he might as well try.
    "Hey there, Tango?"
    "The one and only, how's it going?"
    "Not so good, but I heard you might be able to fix that. See, I'm looking for a man, a regular at this bar. Goes by Mr. Yeeeta, but you might know him as Zen."
    "ZENNYBOY!!" he cried out. "Yeah, I know 'im, good guy! Always pays off my tab when he comes in. Dunno where he gets the cash from, but I don't ask. How do you know 'im? You're not a copper, right? I'd like my tab to stay free if ya catch my drift."
    "No, no, I'm looking for his services. I'm no cop."
    "Services? Oh yeah, he always said he was a cleaner.. he gave me a card one time for a free cleaning, since I'm always talkin' to 'im."
    Fox perked up at that. "A card? You got his number?"
    "No way no way, just a friend of his. She'll getcha sorted. Here, I don't need a cleaning, it's all yours." He slipped a wrinkled business card out of his sleeve and flicked it like a playing card across the way at him. "He's hard to get to, but I heard his services are worth it."
The card was worn, but a clear address was inked into the center. The name on the card read Fareeha.