Pale Kings and Princes

4

Valdez had stayed at the Reservoir Court, a three-story cinder block motel with a bar and restaurant in a one-story wing off the west end of the building. The cinder block was painted green and a fake mansard roof of plastic shingles modified the third floor. The plastic roof was some of its charm. The fact that there was no other motel for fifty-two miles was the rest of its charm.

I put my extra ammunition in a bureau drawer, put my clean shirts on top of it, put my shaving kit in the bathroom, and went down to the bar. A large blackboard on an easel at the entrance to the bar/restaurant had today’s specials chalked on it. There was Salmon Loaf at $5.95 and a Polish Platter for $4.95. New Wave.

It was three-thirty and the place had two customers and a woman tending bar. I sat on a barstool and ordered a draft beer. The bartender drew it for me and put it carefully down on a little napkin that would, of course, stick to the bottom of the glass when I picked it up to drink.

“Run a tab?” she said.

I nodded and she rang up the drink and put the bar bill in front of me facedown. The room was paneled in dark plywood, grooved to look like planking. There were pictures of trout and eagles and bears and deer and hunting dogs on the wall. I drank a little beer. The napkin stuck to the bottom of the glass. I pulled it off, and crumpled it up and put it in an ashtray.

“Staying at the motel?” the bartender said. She was wearing black slacks and a white blouse with a canvas hunting vest that had ammunition loops sewn across the front. Her very blond hair was pulled back to a French twist, and her eyes were brightly underscored by powder-blue eye shadow. Her eyebrows were narrow and dark. She wore a small maroon nameplate that said “Virgie” on it in white lettering.

“Yes, I am,” I said.

“Traveling through?”

“No, I’m in town for a while.”

“Really, business?”

“Un huh.”

“Surprise,” she said.

“Why?”

“I been working bars a long time. I kinda figure by now I can spot people. Didn’t have you figured for a businessman.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t have the look,” she said. “You know, tired, a little overweight, look like they’re in a hurry even when they’re at the bar. Usually they smoke, they drink hard stuff, they act macho. You haven’t even made a virgin joke about my name.”

“I got no sense of humor,” I said.

“Maybe the opposite,” Virgie said. “I had you figured for some kind of forestry/conservation outdoors type. Get a lot of them out here. Quabbin’s a big wildlife sanctuary.”

“I know,” I said.

“Or maybe a jock, except you’re kind of old.”

“But lithe,” I said, “and still vigorous.”

Virgie grinned. “Bet you were, though,” she said. “You weren’t born with that nose.”

“Used to box,” I said.

“See,” Virgie said, “I know something.”

I drank some beer.

“So what kind of business you in?” Virgie said. She was leaning her left hip against the beer chest below the bar. Her arms were folded, and she talked to me by turning her head left toward me.

“Detective,” I said. “I’m here to see if I can find out what happened to Eric Valdez.”

Virgie straightened and turned fully toward me. “Jesus Christ,” she said.

“There’s that,” I said.

“I don’t know anything about it,” she said.

I drank some beer. Virgie walked down to the other end of the bar and began to slice lemons into neat half circles. Probably struggling with her libido. I drank the rest of my beer.

“May I have another beer, please, Virgie?” I said.

She came down and drew the beer and put down a new paper napkin and set the beer in front of me. She rang up the bar bill and put it back down in front of me.

I said, “Virgie, are you mad ’cause I’m a detective?”

“I got nothing to do with that Valdez thing,” she said.

“Never probably ever even heard of it,” I said.

“Look,” Virgie said, “you may be a big tough guy...” She shook her head.

“Valdez stayed here,” I said. “He probably drank at the bar. He was, ah, flirtatious. He’d have talked with you.”

“Lotta people talk with me. I’m friendly. Part of my job.”

“Sure,” I said. “And you don’t remember anything about any of them. Any more than you’d notice that my nose has been broken.”

“You a state cop?” she said.

“Nope,” I said. “Private.”

“A private detective?”

“Un huh.”

“And you’re out here alone asking questions about Eric Valdez?”

“Un huh.”

“Chief Rogers know you’re here?”

“He said I was a wiseass and he didn’t need me,” I said. Virgie almost smiled.

“You know any of the women Valdez was dating?”

“No. Or anything else. Get it? I don’t know anything about Valdez. He came in here, had a few drinks, made small talk, left. That’s what I know.”

“Where’s the action in town,” I said.

“What kind of action?”

“Booze, music, women, good times,” I said.

“Here,” Virgie said.

I looked around. “People come flocking in here evenings to feast on salmon loaf?” I said.

Virgie shrugged. “Nothing else around, for singles stuff,” she said.

I drank some beer.

“You a private cop, who you working for?” Virgie said.

“Central Argus,” I said.

She nodded. “Figures,” she said.

“Because Valdez worked for them?” I said.

“They been stirring up trouble down here for a long time,” Virgie said.

“Or maybe there has been trouble down here for a long time and they’ve just been reporting it.”

Virgie shrugged again. “They’re paying you,” she said.

“Much coke around here?” I said.

“You got me,” Virgie said. “You looking to score some?”

“Maybe.”

Virgie shook her head. “No, you’re not. You do coke like I do caviar. You aren’t the type.”

“It’s my clear blue eyes and square jaw,” I said. “They’re always giving me away.”

“Sure,” Virgie said. “You got any clues about Valdez?”

“No,” I said. “I was hoping you might.”

“See you’re not listening to me,” Virgie said. “Watch my lips. I don’t know anything about Valdez.”

“Or coke?”

“Or coke.”

“Or Chief Rogers.”

“No.”

“Or anything that isn’t small talk.”

Virgie nodded. “Hey,” she said. “Man’s a quick learner.”

“If you were me,” I said, “who would you talk with.”

“If I were you, I’d go home,” she said.

“And if you didn’t do that, what would you do?” I said.

“Nothing,” Virgie said. “I wouldn’t do nothing.”