Nemesis

Chapter VI

Outside a big man in gray clothes moved away from the wall and fell in step beside him. It was Meyers.

“Can’t let well enough alone?” he asked.

“How did you know where to look for me,” Larry asked dully. But it didn’t seem important.

“Your wife called me. Told me what you had in mind. So I thought I’d drop around and see that you didn’t get liquored up again and cause us more trouble.”

“I wasn’t drunk,” Larry said.

“Meet any dead blondes?” Meyers asked.

“Go to hell,” Larry said.

“Talk that way and I’m liable to slap you one,” Meyers said, without rancor.

“I’m supposed to be crazy,” Larry said. “Nutty as a fruit cake. Why bother about me? Why tail me around?”

“Just trying to keep you out of trouble,” Meyers said. He took Larry’s arm. “My car is over here.”

The car was parked at the corner of Canal and Madison under a NO PARKING sign. The traffic cop grinned at Meyers.

“How’s the wife?” he asked.

“How’s any wife,” Meyers muttered.

He got in beside Larry and lit a cigarette. He made no move to start the car, just sat there, staring out the wind shield. The cigarette in his mouth accumulated ash. Is cascaded down his vest.

“Find out anything?” he asked finally.

Larry shook his head. “The bartender didn’t remember me. The twenty six girl I talked to in there is gone. Some guy, Tonelli, his name was, spent twenty minutes trying to cinvince me I was drunk.”

“Tonelli,” Meyers said. “Go on.”

“That’s all. They claim I wasn’t even at the Kicking Horse last night.”

Meyers pinched his nose with stubby fingers.

“How did Tonelli seem?”

“Friendly enough,” Larry answered. “But he didn’t know of any blonde who hung around the bar there. He didn’t know the twenty six girl. And the bartender was pretty sure he’d never seen me before! But he was lying.”

“How do you figure?”

“He went out of his way to talk to me last night. He fixed me up with this girl. He bought us a drink. A guy would remember something like that.”

“I guess he would,” Meyers said. He turned and looked at Larry. “If it happened, that is.”

“Oh, shut up,” Larry said wearily. “What percentage is there trying to prove I’m crazy? Or just a drunk who has funny dreams? If you don’t believe me let me alone. I know what happened to me. I know where I was last night. I know that bartender was lying. And I intend to find out why.”

Meyers shrugged. “Okay. But don’t cry if you get hurt. Can I drop you somewhere.”

“No,” Larry said. “I can get home.”

Meyers frowned and then threw his cigarette away.

“If you come across anything give me a ring?”

“Now who’s crazy?” Larry asked.

“I don’t know. My food doesn’t taste right though. Hell of a note.” He sighed heavily. “Be seeing ya.”

Larry got out of the car and watched him drive away.