The First Victim

CHAPTER 12

For the man in the back row of the smut film house, time seemed to slow down as the big Mexican next to him loudly blew his nose into a napkin and then threw the napkin onto the floor. Just being here with this man was a risk, and he’d come only because it had seemed unavoidable.

‘‘So what’s so important?’’ he asked Rodriguez.

‘‘The count is off.’’

‘‘An escape?’’ It wouldn’t be the first.

‘‘We’re long by one.’’

‘‘Long?’’

‘‘That’s what I’m saying,’’ said Rodriguez. ‘‘An escape I can handle, you know that. But this?’’

‘‘You counted wrong.’’

‘‘I done this count six times. We’re long.’’ Rodriguez’s voice was rough and scratchy. He kept sniffing back snot into his throat in a vulgar disgusting sound.

‘‘Well it’s off.’’

‘‘It’s not off,’’ Rodriguez objected.

‘‘You know what you’re saying? Are they all Chinese?’’

‘‘Yes.’’

‘‘Did you strip them?’’

‘‘Of course.’’

‘‘And they’re shaved.’’

‘‘Every last snatch.’’

‘‘So the count is off. It’s the only explanation.’’

‘‘It wasn’t off last week. I done the count six times.’’

‘‘So you said.’’

‘‘Just so you know.’’

‘‘Now I know.’’ The idea disturbed him, but he didn’t let Rodriguez know this. It was his job to worry-most of the time Rodriguez simply did as he was told. Inventory was off; it was as simple as that. ‘‘Maybe one of the ones in quarantine. . maybe that threw the numbers off,’’ he suggested.

‘‘I got them into the count. I’m telling you-last week we done the count and the numbers was right.’’

‘‘Use your squirrels, your snitches. See what you can find out.’’

‘‘Got it.’’

‘‘Tell your boys to keep their eyes open.’’

‘‘Done already.’’

‘‘Well, do it again,’’ he snapped, regretting the tone. It wouldn’t help matters to piss off Rodriguez.

The big man sneezed again. This time he forgot the napkin entirely.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 203 DAYS MISSING