“No, I’m on duty.”
Capslock laughed, finished his PBR, and waved at the bartender. “Hey, Rick, two more.”
He turned back to Virgil, and said, “This is Long Wayne Gibbs, aka Long Doyle Gill, aka Long Bob Greer. Part of him used to make pornos.”
Virgil said to the criminal, “Should I just call you Long for short?”
“Call him Wayne. That might be his real name,” Capslock said.
Reacting to Virgil’s “Long/short” comment, Wayne was giving him his version of the prison death stare, which was interrupted by the arrival of two more PBRs. When the bartender had gone, Capslock said, “Wayne, tell Virgil about China White.”
“There isn’t one,” Wayne grunted.
Capslock said to Virgil, “There you go...”
“You mean, no one anywhere?” Virgil asked.
“Maybe in California—I wouldn’t know about that—but not in Minneapolis or St. Paul. Nobody would call themselves that. It’s too stupid.”
“I’m not sure how many bright drug dealers I’ve known,” Virgil said. “I could probably count them on the fingers of one finger.”
“Still too stupid,” Wayne said. “Even a dumb guy wouldn’t call himself that.”
“Or woman.”
That caused Wayne to pause halfway through a swallow of beer, his Adam’s apple stuck briefly under his chin. When he took the bottle down, he said, “You know, China White would be a good name for a porn star. One of them chink half-breeds, looks kinda white but with slanty eyes?”
Virgil: “So, you know any porn stars named China White?”
“Not yet,” Wayne said.
Capslock: “Wayne’s getting out of the art side of porn, going into production work.”
Wayne: “That’s where the money is.”
Virgil said to Capslock, “Well, I appreciate meeting this gentleman. Now, I think I’ll head over to my hotel—”
“Virgil, Virgil. Listen to the man,” Capslock said.
“He said there’s no China White.”
“But that’s not the only question you’re asking, is it? Wayne’s connections in the sex business are extensive... You tell him, Wayne.”
Wayne leaned forward, dropped his voice: just us boys here. “I was, uh, auditioning this chick for a role in one of my upcoming productions, and we got to talking and she mentioned that this girl she knew was fucking a famous professor.”
Virgil looked at him for a moment, then asked, “Why are you telling me this?”
“As a favor to Del,” Wayne said.
“Wayne was supplying medical marijuana to some needy people—”
“Injured veterans,” Wayne said.
“—and was found to have twenty kilos of primo Mexican weed in the back of his Camaro,” Capslock said.
“The whole thing was a total misunderstanding,” Wayne said. “One of my friends put it there. I didn’t even know about it.”
“What happened to his friend?” Virgil asked Capslock.
