By Timothy Lantz

Chapter 3
The Twelve Hours of Night

I

Two thugs stood guard outside the Twelve Hours of Night. The first was a wall, thick with a crooked nose and heavy ham hands. The other was a sharp angular man with a pointy mustache. I got the sense that they were unofficial doormen placed there to keep trouble from entering the club. I wasn’t sure if I fit their description of trouble, but a five dollar cab ride to this side of town insured that I was going to put it to the test.

I walked up to the entrance and let them give me the once over. Neither said anything, though I could see Sharpie giving the other a funny look. The Wall just shrugged however, and no moves were made to stop me. I flashed a smile as I walked past, though, with any luck, they had already forgotten me. Sometimes it’s good to be inconspicuous. This was one of those times.

Inside, the place smelled of money. Even the hat check girl scrunched up her face at my forty dollar suit. I let it slide however and slipped past her into the main room. It was still early for a place like this and the real crowd hadn’t showed up yet. Not to say the club wasn’t busy, there were tables full of beautiful people all looking to set themselves up for the night. In a place like this, there are two kinds of people, those with money and those who want it. The ones who have the means are busy putting on the show, looking to impress or just have a good time. They throw money away like water, and to them, it probably has less value. The rest are all busy working an angle. There are the pretty girls who love attention, the not so pretty girls who make it known that they can be had for a price, the gamblers, the con men, the business men and the gangsters.

I made my way to the bar and took a seat, settling in to watch the show.

A look around the room revealed no sign of Allen, though I didn’t expect there to be. A guy like that wouldn’t be seen until the real players arrived, and that never happens before midnight.

I told the bartender to set me up with a screwdriver and made an accounting of the decor. The walls were the color of sand and covered in a stucco plaster made to look like ancient brick. At one time, the place probably had a theme that made that relevant, but themed clubs were yesterday’s news. Dark burgundy drapes hung in the corners and the lights were kept low enough to give the impression of intimacy. Across from the bar, a grouping of tables was huddled next to a rectangular dance floor. There was no stage, but a small three piece jazz band was busy earning its keep giving the girls something to swing their hips to.

I sat quietly, sipping my drink and glancing at my watch. I guess I was waiting for something, only I didn’t know what. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long.

From behind a curtain, a tall, narrow, blonde in a light blue dress appeared. She wore a scowl and moved toward the bar with purpose. The room seemed to part around her like the Red Sea around Moses. Her piercing gaze stopped short a half dozen Romeos all looking for tonight’s Juliet.

“Make it a double Mike.” She told the bartender.

He quickly filled a glass and she pried it from his hand before he could set it down in front of her. It was gone in one long gulp. She gave it back and rapped her knuckles on the counter. Without missing a beat, he filled the glass again. She pulled that one out of his hands too and sat on the stool in a huff.

I looked her over closely. She was a little thin for my taste. Her hair was the kind of blonde that came in a bottle and her roots were showing. The cut hung low, off the shoulder and needed a trim. It gave her a hint of wild though, and maybe a little bit of dangerous as well.

Girls like her are used to unwanted attention and she must have instinctively felt my eyes on her. She flashed a sneer in my direction. “Take a picture why don’t ya?”

“Sorry, didn’t bring my brownie.”

Her nostrils flared. “Smart guy huh? I hate smart guys.” She took a deep swallow from her glass.

“Seth Allen a smart guy?”

Her gaze narrowed just a bit. “Yeah, he’s a real smart guy. Who the hell are you anyway?”

“Nobody.”

“That’s right, nobody. So why don’t you blow?”

“Can’t. Not yet anyway. I need to talk to Allen.”

She laughed mockingly. “Allen won’t talk to no two-bit hustler in a cheap suit.”

“He’ll talk to me.”

“Yeah? What makes you so sure?”

“You’re going to introduce me.”

She laughed again, louder this time. “Why would I do that that?”

“Because your sister, Isha, would want you to.”

Her face softened at the mention of Isha’s name. “How did you…”

“Your eyes. You can bleach your hair and change your clothes all you want, but those brown, almond shaped eyes are always going to give you away.”

She turned and buried her face in her hands. “What do you want with Seth?”

“I want to know where Oscar is. Unless you know?”

Her shoulders sagged. “No. I don’t know.”

“But?”

She looked me in the face. There were small glistening pools forming in the corners of those almonds. “He was here.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. A couple of weeks ago.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” The tears were running down her cheeks now. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Does Allen know something?”

“I don’t know.” She was begging me now. “Please, just go away.”

“Not until I see Allen.” I reached out and took her hand. It was trembling and cold. There was no sign of the woman who had stared down the room only minutes ago. I tried to sound comforting. “Will you help me?”

She nodded.

I offered her a handkerchief. “You better go fix your face. I’ll wait here till you get back.”

Without looking at me, she slipped off the stool and walked toward the ladies room. Only when she reached the doorway did she stop and turn.

I nodded in her direction and she forced a smile across her lips. I could still see the phantom image of that smile, even after she turned and disappeared inside.

II

I ordered another drink and sat quietly waiting for her to return. After ten minutes, I was starting to get a little worried. At fifteen minutes, I knew I was in trouble.

I looked the room over just in time to see Sharpie and the Wall pushing their way through the floor in my direction. It could be that they were taking me to see Allen, or it could be that I was about to get thrown out on my ear. A betting man would place his money on the later.

I decided to ride it out and let them come to me. Discretion may be the better part of valor, but running from the sight of a pair of toughs never did sit well with me. I have the battle scars to prove it.

“What do we have here?” Asked the Wall.

“Don’t know Mick, but it smells like a cop.” Sharpie leaned down and stuck his nose in my face. I could smell the stink of tobacco on his breath. “You a cop? We don’t like no cops in here.”

Casually I tossed down the rest of my drink and reached for my wallet. The Wall pinned my hand to my chest inside my jacket. “Take it easy pal. Don’t try and pull anything.” He let go of my arm.

I shrugged him off and pulled out my wallet, flashing my license. “Not a cop.”

“Private dick.” Stated Sharpie. “We don’t like no private dicks in here neither. Do we Mick?”

“No Clarence. We don’t like snoops.”

“Relax boys. I’m not here to start any trouble. I just want a few words with Allen.”

“Yeah? What about?”

“Oscar Asar. Ever hear of him?”

The Wall started looking nervous, his eyes shifted to Sharpie, looking for direction. Sharpie didn’t flinch. “Never heard of him.”

“I think otherwise. In fact, I’d say you know him real well. Want to tell me where he is?”

He stabbed me in the chest with his finger and left it there. “I don’t know what you think you know, but I’m sure it’s time you left.”

Maybe it was the few drinks I had poured down my throat, or maybe just pent up energy I had stored up from spending a week in the hospital, but that finger was pushing me to the edge. “Get your hand off me,” I growled.

“Or what tough guy?” He pressed it hard against my breastbone.

Smiling, I grabbed his finger and twisted until I felt it snap. My other hand swung out for his face. I had the element of surprise and caught him off guard. It was probably not my finest moment, but it felt damn good to get a little action. My fist connected with the side of his head and he dropped fast and hard. Apparently Sharpie had a weak chin.

That’s as far as my advantage got me however. The Wall quickly seized me by the throat and pulled me off of the barstool. I tried to wrestle myself free, but he was too strong and I couldn’t break his grip. Before I even knew what was happening, he pinned my arms behind my back and was pushing me toward the door.

He slammed me hard against the hat check counter, and then pressed my face against the wall. “Give this bum his coat.” He yelled to the girl.

She quickly threw my coat and hat at me. I could see the smile on her face. She was enjoying this too much.

“Let’s go,” bellowed the Wall. He spun me around in the direction of the door when a voice stopped him short.

“Wait!”

It was Sharpie and he had death in his eyes. He strode up and delivered a solid punch to my ribs with his good hand. The pain was overwhelming and my knees buckled a bit. Unconsciously, I wondered how he knew to hit me there. Probably just my bad luck.

He looked ready to take another swing when the Wall stopped him. “Not here.”

The words were good enough. Sharpie nodded and looked me in the eye. “I’ll be seeing you tough guy.”

“Count on it,” I spit back.

The Wall forced me out of the joint and shoved me onto the street. I hit the ground and rolled over just as his foot made an impression on my stomach. I doubled over on my back and my already throbbing ribs exploded again. It was too much. I emptied the contents of my stomach all over the pavement.

“If you’re smart, you won’t come back.”

I wanted to say something, get the final word, but it was no use. I was sucking air and trying to catch my breath. Instead, I put my hand up signaling I had had enough. The Wall didn’t have any use for mercy and booted me again. How I managed to avoid passing out, I’ll never know, but I did.

“Remember,” he stated as he turned and walked away.

I’d remember all right, and if it took me the rest of my life, I’d pay him back for that one.

I pulled myself up onto the sidewalk and started looking for a cab. Not exactly how I planned for this evening to end, but on the positive side. I felt good about Allen’s involvement in Oscar’s disappearance, but that was all I felt good about.

Chapter 4 Coming Soon!

chapter index