Chapter 9 #2
“Remember the files I pulled back at the precinct? Those two are Jake Fitch and Hank Spears.”
Dan tried to recollect the mug shots Gary had shown him. “They worked with Eddie?”
Gary nodded and strolled over to their booth, Dan following. He flashed his badge.
“Good evening, gentlemen. I’d like to ask you a few questions about Eddie Ray.”
One of the men arched his eyebrows. “You’re polite for a cop. And we have nothing to tell you.”
“You don’t have any information about the job he was doing last night?”
The other guy stared at Gary. “He just told you. We don’t know anything. Now get lost.”
Dan had to admire Gary’s cool, especially when he persisted. He didn’t need Dan hanging around.
He gazed at his surroundings. The booths sat against the wall opposite the bar, where a sole bartender was pouring a drink for one guy perched on a barstool. There weren’t that many people seated alongside him, so Dan took advantage of the lull in business to wander over to the bartender.
“Hey, I was wondering….”
He stilled. “You a cop too?”
Dan shook his head. “I’m a consultant for the police. We’re asking questions about Eddie Ray. He was a regular here, wasn’t he?”
The bartender nodded. “One of my best customers.”
Next to Dan, the guy staring into a glass of beer twisted his head to look at him, then resumed his drinking.
“Was he here yesterday?” Dan asked.
The bartender shook his head, then froze. “No, wait a sec. He was in here around lunchtime. Then he left. Don’t know where he was going.”
“And before yesterday?”
The guy stroked his chin. “Monday night. Yeah, he was here Monday. Or was it Sunday? I forget.”
“Did he sit with anyone? Meet anyone?”
The bartender stared at him. “Why are you asking?”
“Because we’re trying to find his killer.”
For a moment, the guy said nothing; then he gave a nod.
“Okay.” He pointed to the end of the bar.
“There’s a second bar around that corner.
We only use it when it gets busy, but some guys like to sit there ’cause it’s away from the TV.
” He snorted. “Why come to a sports bar if you don’t wanna watch sports? ”
“You were saying? About the second bar?”
“Eddie went and sat there that night with some guy or other.”
“Did you know the guy he was with?”
“Nah, never saw him before. And he hasn’t been in here since.”
“Mind if I take a look?”
The bartender’s eyes twinkled. “Sure, be my guest. Ain’t nothing round there but booths and tables anyhow.”
Dan thanked him and wandered to the end, where it opened up into a longer space. At the far end was another bar, its bottles illuminated by a ghostly green backlight. He walked slowly from table to table, touching each surface, seeking any sign of Eddie’s presence.
That task was not an easy one in a bar. What with cleaning and the constant touches of the bar’s patrons, whatever psychic energy there had been became… diluted. More often than not, it took a really strong event to imprint itself on a place or object.
By the time he’d interacted with every table, there’d been no trace of Eddie.
Damn.
It looked as though he wouldn’t be any use to Gary after all.
He turned to retrace his steps. Around the corner came the man who’d been sitting at the bar.
He was heading for Dan.
Dan’s senses were suddenly on alert.
“You’re asking about Eddie Ray?”
Dan nodded, and the man gestured to one of the tables. “Then let’s sit.”
He wasn’t about to argue.
Gary came around the corner and walked toward him just as the guy took the seat facing Dan.
“I was here that night. I heard it all.”
“Heard what?” Gary stood behind the customer.
He turned his head to gaze up at Gary and smiled. “A conversation between Eddie and some guy. But if you want to know more, it’s gonna cost ya.”
Gary reached into his jacket for his wallet. “Will twenty dollars buy us some information?”
He shrugged. “It might.”
Gary handed him the money. “It had better, because I’m not paying you more than that.”
The man took it and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. “Okay, then. Eddie was sitting where you are now,” he told Dan. “Some dude was with him. I was at the next table.” He pointed over Dan’s right shoulder.
“What did you hear?” Gary had his notebook out.
“This dude said Eddie came highly recommended. Said he and some other guys were private repo men, and some customer wouldn’t pay up, so they were going to take his car.
But the keys were kept in the guy’s house.
He was away, but the car would be there.
This dude said he wasn’t a housebreaker, but Eddie could get in and out, slicker than snot. ”
“What was Eddie’s response?”
The man guffawed. “Eddie is—was—nobody’s fool. It was obvious from his reaction he didn’t buy the story. So then the dude comes clean. He tells Eddie he’s doing it for an old army buddy whose wife is cheating on him with the guy who owns the car. Dude wants to teach him a lesson.”
“And Eddie agreed to do it?”
The man nodded. “They swapped numbers. The dude said he’d call Eddie with the address, some place in Belmont. Then he left.”
“And what did Eddie do?”
The man cackled. “Same thing he always did—got drunk off his ass.”
“And you’ve told us everything?”
“Well, as much as you’re gonna get for twenty dollars.” The man held his hand up when Gary snorted. “I’m yanking your chain. I’ve told you everything I heard, swear to God.”
A thought occurred. “This dude with Eddie… was it the same man who was with him on the CCTV footage? The stuff they showed on the news?”
The man shook his head. “Nope. That wasn’t him.”
“You’re sure?”
The man cackled once more. “The guy on TV was white. This guy was a Black dude.”
They thanked him and walked out of the bar.
“Did you learn anything from Eddie’s associates?” Dan asked.
“Not much. They opened up a little once they realized we were there to find out who shot Eddie. And their theory is the accomplice did the shooting, not Eddie.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Jake said Eddie was scared of firearms. Never used one, never took one with him on a job. Said he was always afraid he’d shoot himself in the foot or something.”
They walked back to Gary’s car. Dan’s mind was in constant motion, trying to pull together the threads of all the information they’d learned that day.
Gary got behind the wheel but didn’t turn on the engine. “Okay. What do we have so far? And is it any different from what we had this morning.”
“Which seems a long time ago, by the way.” Dan leaned back.
“Okay. Eddie is approached by someone who asks him to break into a house. Let’s assume it was Wilmer’s house.
He’s told he’s looking for a set of spare car keys for the car in the driveway.
Eddie is captured on CCTV going into said house.
He was seen leaving it and driving off with his accomplice in Wilmer’s car.
Later he’s found dead, a gun beside him. ”
“Fine so far.”
“But it’s not fine,” Dan insisted. “His prints weren’t in the car. Okay, so he might have worn gloves, but that wasn’t his footprint on either the mat or the pedal.”
“But you saw him get into it.”
“Did I?”
Gary arched his eyebrows. “I saw him too.”
“Correction. You saw someone about Eddie’s height, dressed in fairly standard clothing—jeans, black tee, black jacket, sneakers.” Dan stared at him. “But what if the guy on TV wasn’t Eddie?”