Death Notes

ever heard. She told you that?’
    I nodded.
    ‘The only reason she wanted Match sober was because she believed he would start writing again. She wanted a meal ticket. Match always saw the best in everyone, even Sharon.’
    ‘Well, her plan seemed to have worked.’
    ‘She didn’t inspire him. He was clean for the last year and a half. He didn’t go back to music until just a few months ago. It had nothing to do with Sharon. Not at all. I credit Dickie Almaviva. After he came into the picture, things picked up. Sharon always tries to take credit for everything.’ Buddha looked annoyed so I changed the subject.
    ‘Did you hear anybody mention Match’s dying words Saturday night?’
    ‘Why, yes. As a matter of fact, Yvette - that’s Match’s daughter - told me he’d managed to whisper his killer’s name into...’
    He stopped and studied my face more closely, then recognition dawned in his eyes.
    ‘It was you , wasn’t it? You were the one.’
    ‘I was there, yes, Mr Teagues. But Match didn’t say anything. He was already dead when he fell.’
    Buddha shook his formidable bald head.
    ‘What a sad, sad state of affairs. That Sharon, she’s a wretched piece of work, isn’t she? Yvette isn’t much better.’ He was quickly losing interest in the conversation, so I went for a second new tack.
    ‘About the money...’
    He waved his thick hand in dismissal.
    ‘Match didn’t owe me a thing.’
    ‘Mr Teagues—’
    ‘He’s the one who insisted I keep track. There was the bar tab, and sometimes we’d make bets. You know, I take on wagers sometimes for the races. Match wasn’t always so lucky, but we were friends. I never asked him to pay.’
    ‘Never?’
    ‘He was my friend. How could I ask him to pay when he’s barely made a dime in fifteen years?’
    Buddha Teagues obviously didn’t know about Match’s partnership with Sig Malone.
    ‘Match made me keep track, but in all honesty, I never expected to see it again. I told him not to worry about it. I certainly don’t expect it back now.’
    ‘How much did he owe you?’
    Buddha hesitated, shifting in his chair, lips pursed. Finally, he said, ‘Roughly? Around ten thousand.’
    ‘You’re quite a friend.’
    ‘It’s nothing, really. Just paper.’
    I wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not so I just let him talk.
    ‘Match and I went back a long time, you know. Since before Georgette died. He just fell apart when she passed away. Couldn’t write another note after that. He played for a while, but his heart just wasn’t in it. You’d understand if you’d seen them together. Georgette was a remarkable woman. Remarkable! Musical, too. They were made for each other.’ Her name wasn’t on any of the records I owned. ‘Did she play with him?’
    ‘Oh, no. But she was always in the background though, supporting, advising. Never missed a rehearsal. Carried his scores for him.’ He sighed. ‘Poor Match. We tried to pull him through when she died, but you know how it is. He just let go. And that’s when he found solace in drugs.’
    His eyes stared out at nothing, the memories more vivid than anything inside the walls surrounding us.
    ‘I’ve been giving some thought to this, Miss Ventana,’ he finally said after breaking his reverie. ‘If I could bring Match back, I would. I can’t do anything about his... his passing, but I feel a need to act. I’ve decided to offer a reward - ten thousand dollars - to the person who tracks down the brute who took Match from us.’
    Added to the ten from the musician’s union, that made twenty thousand dollars.
    ‘That’s a lot of money,’ I said, then felt stupid for saying it. ‘It’s not worth one man’s life.’
    I agreed, then out of the blue he suggested I talk to Nick DuPont and Eugene Tobinio.
    ‘It will be excellent for you to speak with them. They’ll tell you Match wasn’t himself on Saturday. By all means, you must speak to them.’
    Before I left, I gave Teagues my card and asked him to call me if he thought of anything else. I was halfway across town before I remembered I wasn’t investigating Match’s murder.
     

14
     
    B ut somebody seemed to think I was. The same pair of headlights tailed me all the way down California. I made a couple of circuits around the block before I got to Gough, then made a U-turn and left him behind as I sped home. I was so sure I’d lost him that I bought a cold six pack and stopped by a place that sells takeout pizza by the slice.