The Girl in the Glass

DANCING IN THE DARK

Bootleggers," he said as we took the road back to the house. He drove with the window open, flicking ashes into the night.

"What?" I asked.

"They're running booze in from Canada," he said. "Probably some lousy grain they mix with juniper berries and perfume."

"I think they wanted to kill me."

"I doubt it," said Antony. "They don't need bodies. They wanted to know who you were. If they thought you were a fed, then they might kill you."

"Thanks," I said.

"Hey, where's the hat?"

"Back on the trail. I dropped it when the guy jumped me."

"Well, at least Parks won't find it now. So, you saw the girl?"

"Yeah," I said, and there must have been something in the way I said it because Antony hummed and mumbled "Dancing in the Dark" the rest of the way home.

Schell was waiting for us in the living room when we came in. He eyed me up and down once, focusing on the dirt stains on my pants and shirt, my torn collar, my missing shoe. He didn't ask any questions but merely raised his right eyebrow.

I knew he was expecting an answer, and I was more than willing to tell him what had happened, but Antony had sworn me to secrecy. Stammering, "I've got to get changed," I quickly left the room and went down the hall, leaving it for the big man to sort out. Stopping short of my bedroom, I waited to hear the excuse he'd concoct.

"I thought you were going for cigarettes," said Schell.

"Well, Boss," said Antony, and there was a long pause in which I could almost hear the gears in that enormous head slowly turning. "I did get cigarettes, but the kid asked me to drop him off for an hour so he could meet up with that girl he'd met at the Parks place a couple weeks ago."

"What was it, a bare knuckle match?" asked Schell.

"You know," said Antony. "First date."

"It's against policy to socialize with the clients," said Schell.

"Boss, she's Mexican. I thought it'd be good for him."

"Why didn't he just tell me?"

"You're his old man. No kid tells their old man that kind of crap."

Some time passed, and then Schell added, "She must be a tough customer."

"What could be better?" said Antony.

Schell must have known I was eavesdropping from the hallway because he called for me to come into the living room. I hobbled in, one shoe still on my right foot. He pointed for me to take a seat in the chair opposite his. Antony was sitting on the couch, his elbows on his knees, his hands folded.

Schell leaned forward and rested his wineglass on the coffee table. "Gentlemen, we're in business," he said. I thought a lecture would follow, but instead he told us that Barnes had called and was eager to meet us.

"When?" I asked.

"Tomorrow morning. Ten sharp. I think we should appear in force. So Antony, you'll wear the chauffeur rig. Diego, you'll be in swami mode, but let me do all the talking on this venture."

"Have the police come up with anything?" I asked.

"As far as he said, nothing," said Schell. "Tomorrow, after he meets us, if he's convinced, he promised to fill us in on the details."

"I hate to say it," said Antony, "but the girl's probably dead."

"Why?" I asked.

"Unless Barnes tells us otherwise tomorrow, it's been too long a time without a ransom demand," said Schell. "If someone kidnapped her, there'd be a reason, and usually that's money, especially with a mark like Barnes."

"There could be another reason," I said, not wanting to think of the girl having been murdered.

"Slim," said Antony.

"And," said Schell, "the chances are it was someone who knows her. That's just the odds. So keep your eyes peeled when we get over there tomorrow. Watch the help, the wife, everybody's a suspect. Even Barnes himself."

"We'll figure it out," said Antony.

"I don't take kindly to being a patsy for the spirit world," said Schell. "The girl in the glass, when she looked at me, it was almost as if she was daring me to figure her out."

Antony stood up and announced that he was turning in. As he left the living room, walking behind Schell's chair, he turned his head and winked at me, a smile on his face. He'd sold me down the river to hide the fact that we'd gone out to get the hat, and I was somewhat upset with the story he'd told, but I had to hand it to him, he wasn't a bad con man.

I also stood up then, but the moment my rear end left the seat, Schell said, "Sit down." I did.

"You went to see Isabel tonight?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Does Parks know?"

"No, we met on the beach."

Schell sat quietly, as if weighing this information. When he finally spoke, his tone led me to believe he was overriding his better judgment. "Do what you have to do, but make sure he never hears of it."

"I understand."

"One mistake and we could be out of business," he said.

I nodded and then stood up to leave. As I passed by him, he reached out and grabbed my arm. "Do you like her?" he asked.

"I like her a lot," I said.

"Good," he whispered. He closed his eyes and sat there for a couple of seconds, holding my arm, before finally letting go.