Mirror, Mirror on the Wall ✓

19 | Love Thy Neighbour

Chapter 19: Love Thy Neighbour  

Okay, they had a lead. Their new hideout was near Joko's Tavern in Vernolee. Or most probably, it was their actual hideout, who knew? They probably stayed near the Tavern, which was probably why they had bought their food there and brought it to the basement for their gangmates. 

But where was their exact location, he found himself asking? There were tens of houses in the proximity of the restaurant. Only time would tell. 

They were in Clark's car, him driving and Curreri in the passenger seat. Curreri was making a call to his wife, telling her that he would be away on work for few days. They were headed to the restaurant to make some enquiries and, if luck favoured, to save Sanchez. 

Their journey took the remainder of the evening and the whole night as well. Clark was tired out after some hours and he felt the effect of the day's adventure taking its toll. So Curreri drove for the remainder of the journey to Vernolee, while Clark took a short nap. Curreri didn't seem to mind.

The next day they were there, in front of the famous hotel-bar, where people from Roxlow also came to enjoy. It was not very noisy now in the morning as it probably was at night. They entered discreetly and Clark flashed his identity card to one of the employees, at the same time motioning him to be silent. Seating themselves at a small indiscernible table at the corner, he asked,

'How many days have you been here,—' Glancing at his name tag, he added '—Sean?' 

'What d'ya mean? Been here since them owners have opened the Tavern.'

At that, Clark had no doubt. The Tavern was less than a decade old. 

Without prompt, the employee said, 'Officer, how long is this going to take? Got people to attend.'

Clark passed him the receipt they had found in the basement. 'This order was bought from here. Do you remember who? Does anyone come here to buy similar orders often?'

'Officer, I ain't no Harvard genius. D'ya think I remember the faces of them all?' He made a circling motion of his hand. Clark was expecting this. He dug into his pocket and took out a tenner, and slapped it onto the table. The employee Sean's eyes widened a bit but he maintained his composure and said, 'I dunno.' 

Clark was not going to offer any more money. His eyes fell on something thicker than a cigarette sticking out of the man's pocket. After a second or two, he knew what it was. A joint. He had the perfect opportunity. 'Answer my questions and I'll not tell your employer that you smoke weed during working hours when you are not serving orders. You get this too.' He raised the ten-dollar bill.

Sean immediately tucked the joint inside his pocket and nodded weakly. Gotcha, Clark mused. 

'Okay, that question. Do you remember anyone who frequently buys similar orders?'

'Yeah, but it ain't always the same person. Many come buy this stuff.'

'Okay. Have you ever seen these guys?' Clark said, handing him the photographs of Sanders and the other guy called Hunter he had taken.

'Uh, yeah. Both'a them. They often come and buy food for themselves and eat here. After that they tell the boys to make packages for a giant,' Sean chuckled.

 'A giant?'

'I mean to say they get a lotta stuff packed. I wonder where it goes, them buying so much food every other day. And come to think of it, they often buy tacos for themselves. But they have stopped coming for the past fifteen days.'

Clark was noting it down. 'Alright. Have they ever taken a delivery?' He asked, prying for an address.

'No. Me, I myself offered them the option of getting all that food delivered. They refused.'

Clark was fearing a dead end. 'Any phone number?'

'Nope.'

'Where did they go, any idea?'

'Nah, I only saw them park a car in the front and go right and towards the back when they left.'

'Describe the car.'

'A deep blue luxurious Chevy Impala.'

'You sure?'

'Sure as the hair on my head.'

'Okay, what did they talk about?'

Sean fumed. 'How the heck do you expect me to know that, officer? They didn't offer me no seat with them.'

'Oh, c'mon. You must surely have overheard something they were speaking.'

'I didn't.'

Clark didn't have any time to waste. He had to force himself to take out another tenner. Sean's eyes gleamed.

'Well, I did hear a word or two here and there. In a job like this, ya catch on some words even if ya don't want to. Once they talking about "hurrying up" about some "delivery". And once—once they were talking about how some Mrs Glenn keeps snooping around from her window. I told m'self not to hear their private conversations any more.'

But Clark had heard what was required. He handed the twenty bucks to Sean, cautioned about not spilling a word about this meeting to anyone, lest his "joint secret" come out. Sean understood. Clark and Curreri took a drink each from the bar to re-energize for the quest. 

They finally had a worthy lead. They got into Clark's car and turned right and towards the back of the shop, where Sean had told the Chevy went. As they passed the shop, Clark was feeling full of enthusiasm as if it were his first case all over again.