“I’ll take a brew.”
Luce sniffled. “A half Zombie. I wouldn’t do a whole one when I’m working.”
“I’ll see to it.”
Eyes narrowed, Ansel watched him go. “What kind of cop’s the slick guy?”
“Consultant. Civilian.”
“Figures.”
“When did you last see Bobby?”
Ansel shrugged, but Eve saw grief rush into his eyes. “I don’t know the time. Just passed by him a couple times, I guess. It was a good night, and I figure he was as busy as me. I hit two women who both wanted full service. They paid for a room. I know I wasn’t done there until after midnight. I only know that because I made enough to take a break, and Bobby wasn’t out, so I figured he was working inside.”
“Did you see him after that?”
“No. The customers were a block south, and the hotel another block. If I had to guess, we made the date about ten, ten-thirty. But I’m guessing.”
Roarke brought back the drinks.
“How do you get to be a consultant?” Ansel asked him.
“Try to be useful.”
“You said you saw Bobby.” Eve shifted to Luce.
“Several times, yeah.” She took a tentative sip of her drink. “We were going to have breakfast.” She looked at Ansel, gripped his hand. “But he didn’t show. We tried tagging him, but it didn’t go through. I mean at all.”
“Figured his ’link died. Didn’t think any more about it.” The grief deepened on his face, in his voice. “I should’ve gone by his place.”
“We didn’t know.” A tear slid down Luce’s cheek. She took another small sip.
“It wouldn’t have helped him.”
Ansel stared at Eve. “We heard somebody painted him fucking blue before they killed him.”
“That’s not accurate. When did you see him last?” she asked Luce.
“Well, I don’t know when exactly. You’re going to work till about sunup, so what’s the difference? I passed him on my stroll, then he wasn’t there, then he was. Then I saw him walking up toward the breakfast place. I figured he wanted a break. I thought maybe I’d take one, since he was. But he wasn’t in there, so I went back to work.”
“You saw him walking north.”
“Ah yeah, I guess.”
“With someone?”
“I didn’t think so, but maybe.”
“Another man?”
“Maybe. There’s always a lot of people. It’s why we work here.”
“If Bobby left his spot,” Ansel put in, “and it wasn’t for a quick break,it was with a customer. And they’d have to make it worth his while. He’s got the prime spot on the block. And he could handle himself, okay? You have to be able to handle yourself.”
Ansel stared hard into his brew, then took a long drink. “He’d’ve left some marks on whoever did him. He’d have made the bastard bleed first.”
“Maybe he was with somebody,” Luce murmured. “I didn’t think of it, but maybe there was a guy with him.”
