Babayaga

anyway, you didn’t wake me. I was actually coming to roust you when I heard your little commotion.”
    “Right,” Will remembered, “you mentioned some errand last night.”
    “Yes, take a look at this.” Oliver took two business cards out of his robe pocket and laid them out side by side. They were identical, reading:

    “One of those cards was in Boris’s pocket when he collapsed. The other I found in Ned’s room. As far as I can discern, it is the only common thread they share. Now, I’ve never heard of Poitier’s and I’ve asked around a bit and gotten nothing. Even Red and the rest of the jazz boys didn’t recognize the name, and those boys are usually fairly knowledgeable in this area.”
    “What area is that?”
    “Pharmaceuticals.”
    “What makes you think that’s what this is all about?”
    “Boris had that odd opiate in his pocket, remember? Got it from somewhere, and this drugstore certainly seems like the right place to start. Worth a look, anyway. So I thought we might go sniff about the place, no need for any subterfuge, though mustache disguises would be fun.”
    Will ignored Oliver’s theatrics. “It’s probably only a regular old pharmacy.”
    Oliver shook his head. “No, it’s definitely a suspicious outfit. The shop isn’t listed in any directory I could find, and when I dialed that number the phone was picked up but whoever was on the other end of the line did not say a single word. I’m telling you, that silence gave me chills.”
    Will shrugged. “Maybe their telephone’s busted.”
    “Doubtful.”
    “It’s probably perfectly innocent, Oliver. Maybe it is where Boris and Ned both bought their toothpaste. Think about it, criminals don’t generally hand out business cards.”
    “Yes, but turn that argument around—when you buy toothpaste, do you generally pick up a business card?” Oliver downed the last of his coffee while Will prepared to accept the inevitable. “Shall we head out then?” asked Oliver.
    “Give me a minute to get dressed,” said Will, shaking his head with disbelief at his willingness to go along.
    “Yes, of course, me too,” said Oliver. “I’ll leave a note for the girls and tell them that, in penance for abandoning them, we’ll take them out tonight for a nice dinner, someplace fun like Le Procope.”
    A few minutes later, the two headed out. As they reached the street, Will put his hand up for a passing cab but Oliver pulled it back. “We can’t very well do a stakeout perched in the back of a cab, the fare would be astronomical. I borrowed that from a friend.” He pointed across the street to a parked Bel Air. “Don’t worry, I’m happy to drive.”
    It was early and traffic was light so they crossed town quickly and, after turning down a few backstreets, found the desired block. Cruising slowly by the building, they saw no signage, either on the windows or hanging above the door. The shutters were drawn and there was no sign of life. Oliver pulled the car up to the far corner of the block and parked.
    “Now what?” asked Will.
    “Now we wait and see.”
    Will looked around the abandoned street. “Why’d we have to come so early?”
    “Well, if one wants to see who opens up the shop, best to be there before the shop opens.”
    Will couldn’t dispute the logic, but he was tired and it was chilly. For the next hour he wrapped himself in his wool coat and tried to get some rest while Oliver watched the pharmacy in the side mirror. Eventually Will dozed off.
    He wasn’t sure how long he slept, but when he came to, the neighborhood was busy amid its routine morning bustle. The small markets had opened their doors, cafés had placed their chalkboard signs out on the sidewalk, and cars, pedestrians, and bicycles all rushed and rattled by. A group of children in their Catholic school uniforms headed off to school. The smell of country bacon cooking somewhere made Will hungry. He looked over at Oliver, who was still intently focused on the pharmacy. Will dug out a pack of Gitanes, hoping to kill his appetite. “So, what is the story with you and Gwen?” he asked.
    “Please, let’s keep the office gossip to a minimum.”
    “Sorry, just trying to make small talk.”
    “You’ll find I take my work very seriously when I’m on the job, doubly so when I’m being paid overtime.”
    “Wait, you’re getting paid for this?” said Will. “What am I getting?”
    Oliver took a cigarette and lit it. “You’re getting