Black Dog

Twenty

At Georgette’s, Stone was greeted by the strains of a jazz group at the end of the bar, inside the front door. He liked that. Dino was waving from a table near the other end of the bar.

Stone fell into his chair.

“They don’t sell Knob Creek here,” Dino said. “I ordered you a High Rock.” This was a New York State bourbon from a private distillery near the Connecticut border.

“That will do me,” Stone said. “Any luck locating our Black Dog?”

“Is that what you call Eddie Jr.?”

“It’s what his stepmother called him. She said he was too awful to be a black sheep. What’s your evidence against Junior?” Stone asked.

“Three things: One, he has a motive. Two, he lied about his whereabouts. And three, we can’t find him.”

“The first two should be helpful in court, but not necessarily so. I think a judge would find your third reason to be your own fault.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to find people who don’t want you to find them.”

“Sad for cops, isn’t it? You think all suspects should just present themselves at the nearest police station and ask to be locked up?”

“I think there oughta be a law to that effect,” Dino said.

Stone’s phone rang. “Yes?”

“It’s Joan. Something just occurred to me about Ed Jr.”

“What’s that?”

“He likes jazz.”

“Jazz... huh. Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’ve got the master suite ready to move into. I’m just waiting for Aunt Annetta’s unwanted stuff to dematerialize.”

“You want to join Dino and me for dinner?”

“Thanks, but I’ve already ordered Chinese from Evergreen.”

“Enjoy using the chopsticks.”

“I’ll do my best.” She hung up.

“That was Joan?”

“Yes, she’s gradually moving into her late aunt’s house.”

“What’s the square footage over there?”

“Ten or twelve thousand square feet, depending on if you count the garage and the servants’ quarters.”

“I guess people as rich as Annetta still call them servants.”

“Mostly, I think, they call them staff.”

“It’s just you, then, who calls them servants?”

“I call them staff, too.”

“Is there a ballroom?” Dino asked.

“I believe so, but I haven’t waltzed across it.”

“How old is the house?”

“Turn of the century — the last century.”

“Then they must have stables, too.”

“Maybe they relabeled them as the garage. On the other hand, they could have had cars about that time.”

“What was that about jazz?” Dino asked.

“Joan says we should look in jazz clubs.”

“Well,” Dino said, “this is a jazz club, sort of. I mean, there’s a jazz group at the other end of the bar.”

“Did you see Junior up there on the way in?”

“No.”

“Neither did I. That eliminates this joint from the list of jazz clubs.”

A waiter appeared, and they ordered a roast duck and a bottle of good red wine. And another drink.

Georgette stopped at their table to greet them.

“Georgette,” Stone said, “why don’t you stock Knob Creek?”

“We sell High Rock, instead. The owners are friends.”

“You couldn’t sell both?”

“If I tried, people might not order my friends’ bourbon.”

“You have a point.”

“I’ll send you one on the house.” She departed for other tables.

The bar area began to get very crowded with people waiting for tables. Somebody cranked up the sound system a bit, so the jazz group could be heard better.

Stone peered through the crowd. “Funny, I thought I caught a glimpse of Eddie Jr.,” he said.

“Where?”

“Down at the other end of the bar, where the jazz is coming from.”

Dino followed Stone’s nose. “It’s pretty crowded down there.”

“Want to take a stroll and see?” Stone asked.

“What for? A ‘stroll’ in these circumstances just means elbowing people out of the way and pissing them off. Then, if we found him, he wouldn’t come quietly, and we’d cause a scene. But if he did come quietly, we’d lose the duck while we wait for a squad car to pick him up, and I’m hungry.”

“Why don’t you just call the Nineteenth’s homicide squad and tell them there’s a reported sighting of Junior here. Let them figure it out.”

“That’s a thought.”

“Better yet, tell them to wait outside until Junior leaves, so we won’t piss off Georgette by making the bust at her bar.”

“An even better idea,” Dino said, getting out his cell phone. He spoke for a minute or so, then hung up. “They’re on it,” he said. “You want you and me to back them up?”

“Not if the duck comes before then. I confess I’m more interested in the duck than in Eddie Jr. He’s your problem, after all.”

“No, he’s the squad’s problem now. I’m just as interested in the duck as you are.”

“We’ll see the lights when they show up.”

“No, I told them not to use the lights and sirens. There’ll just be an unmarked car or two.”

Stone saw a car stop outside. Four burly men got out and headed for the restaurant.

“They’re here,” Stone said.

“So is the duck,” Dino said, tucking his napkin under his chin.