The Comic

Chapter 17

Donny sipped his beer and looked across the booth at Mickey slumped deep in the corner, his face ashen.

"Obviously you got more out of that info than I did."

Mickey groaned and sat up clutching his head. "That's me they're looking for."

"You! What the hell, Mick-"

"I was trying to find out why he was going to the cops before I came to you so I was following the guy."

"So I burned some favours because you're the reason they're lookin' for you?"

"But he went there before I started following him, that's what I wanted to find out about."

"He probably had to identify your friend and sign statements, what's the big deal? What else is there?"

"The dame that killed him!" As soon as he spoke, Mickey felt the ground give way under his feet. He'd done it again. He pinched his temples and started to slide out of the booth.

"Hey! Hold it, sport. What dame and don't think you're walkin' outa here without paying my fee."

"Nothin' I- it's nuthin-"

"Sit."

Mickey sat.

Donny went through three more drafts without speaking as Mickey laid out everything from Earl's killing to sitting right there across from Donny."

"Shit, that's extremely heavy." He stared at his friend, calculating the possibility of duplicity and decided Mickey was too stupid to scam him. A bit of a scheme began to take shape in his mind and he tried to sort all the facts quickly before Mickey just ran out.

"And this dame, this Purcell, she did Tabor?"

"Yeah. Ah, shit. It was supposed to be an anonymous hit on Tabor and that ended any connection Lester had with Earl's killing. Nobody but Lester would know who did it then he found out I knew too. He told me I was never to mention her name-- or even think it."

"So if the cops get her you're all done."

"Oh Christ, Donny, don't even say that." Mickey started to get up again.

"You forgettin' somethin'?"

Mickey sagged once more, inside and out. "What."

"My bet."

"C'mon, Donny, don't hold me up for that."

"Tell you what. You tell Lester I want some of his action or the cops might just get your lady killer's name."

"Donny! Jesus, what are you saying." Mickey reached across and grabbed him by the shirt and began hauling him out of the booth.

The bartender's club caught him square in the kidney and Mickey dropped onto the table top, knocking the glasses onto the seats.

"Get him outta here." Donny straightened his clothes and took out his phone.

******

"Weldon there?"

"Detective Weldon to you, shmuck."

"Okay, De-tec-tive Weldon, how'd ya like a name for the dame in the Tabor killing?"

Silence . . . a long silence then. "You better not be pulling anything, Caleb."

"From the horse's mouth."

"Gimme a name."

"Oh ho! You know my terms, De-tec-tive."

"What have you got this time, Caleb?"

"A crap charge of possession and distribution."

"Hah! You don't want much do you. Try again."

"I will with the papers. For cash."

"You do that and we'll never get her."

"Gee, that's right."

"I can only do what I can do. You make this confrontational, Caleb and I'll have that stool at your hangout ripped out and shoved up your ass."

Donny knew when he'd been checked and he also knew Weldon would do what he could for him.

"Grace Purcell."

"Gonna tell me where this came from?"

"Sorry. My ethics don't permit."

"Grace Purcell. Okay, Caleb, let's see where this goes." Weldon hung up before Donny could reiterate his payment demand.

******

Holt sat with the phone pressed to his ear and his free hand scribbling the incoming facts on a legal pad. The call from his colleague, Avery Weldon, had him twanging like a bow string.

"Who's this again?"

"No names, Leo. My source and he's always been solid."

"Shit, this could be a real breakthrough on a number of files. Thanks, Avery."

"I couldn't use it or I would have. My problem now is satisfying the little bastard."

"Lemme know if I can help and thanks again."

Holt hung up and slapped his leg. "Goddamn!" He sat and thought for a moment how best to proceed. He turned to his computer and punched in Grace Purcell, running an eye down the column of names. Too many. He re-entered the search adding address parameters.

The morning passed slowly and the frustration built as he winnowed the possibilities down without much success. In the end he had the techies pull records on all the cars of the same model as captured at the motel and as night settled in they had expanded the search to a three hundred mile radius, netting over seven hundred vehicles.

None had the license, I DO and they couldn't find it in the motor vehicle registration bank either. Holt had requested a plea from the media to ask for calls to the hot line if anyone saw the car, stressing the license, I DO."

******

Saturday arrived and nothing new had developed in the case. Des and Parker began to feel safer and more relaxed. He had stayed on without any debate and the relationship moved well beyond congenial co-workers. After constant pestering Des had agreed to attend the reunion on condition Parker went with her.

When he brought up the matter of his clothes, he lost the argument and agreed to go to his place and find something presentable. He entered with an uneasy feeling remembering the first time he was followed by Tabor. Now it was a mystery man, or woman except nothing more seemed to be happening.

He flicked on the lights and did a quick scan of the room then hurried down to his closet to find his work suit . . . the only dress piece he had. He grabbed a tie and a clean shirt as well as his dress shoes and headed out.

A quick check of the fridge to make sure nothing toxic was happening and noticed the missing beer. He had to think back. Did he drink it? He couldn't recall. He locked up and then he was gone. While he waited for the bus he let his thoughts take a step back to consider what had happened the last few days and what it might mean going forward.

With no prospects and a danger sign still hanging on his mind, Parker felt a sudden attack of depression. As the bus pulled up to the stop he stepped back and rolled his shoulders then climbed aboard.

"Get a grip, Parker, it isn't so hard to meet expenses . . . they're everywhere."

"You say something?" The driver closed the door and shoved the bus into gear.

"I just got lost in thought. It was unfamiliar territory."

The driver snorted, shook his head and turned his attention to the road.

Parker just gave a weary smile.