Detective

Albrect’s death, Murphy didn’t know it, and second, Tony’s involvement was a given. I’d have bet my life on it. Tony did a pretty good job of being surprised at the news, but he didn’t quite pull it off. He wasn’t that good an actor. I ought to know, because I used to be an actor myself when I first got out of college, and I wasn’t that good an actor either. If I had been, I would have made a living at it, and I never would have become a writer, and if I’d never become a writer, I never would have become a private detective, and if I’d never become a private detective, I never would have found myself in the position of standing around an illegal gambling casino talking to the guy who ran the place, who—I was damn well sure—also happened to be at the very least an accessory to murder.
    “Well,” Tony said, turning his attention back to me. “You say you’re from Miami?”
    “Yeah.”
    “You up here on business with Albrect?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Well, that’s a kick in the face, ain’t it? So, how’s this affect you? You gonna be in town long?”
    “Not any more,” I said. “I’m going back tomorrow morning.”
    “You driving down?” Tony asked casually.
    My stomach suddenly felt hollow. This was it. All I had to do was say, “yes,” and things would start happening. I knew it. Albrect had been driving pickups from Miami. Albrect was dead. They needed someone else to do it. Bambi was looking for someone, putting out feelers. He’d asked me the question. All I had to do was say “Yes.”
    “Gosh, no,” I said. “Take forever. I’m flying, of course.”
    “Of course,” Tony said. He patted Murphy on the back, nodded to me, nodded to the croupier, and left.
    From that point on I lost. I couldn’t swear that Tony’s nod to the croupier had anything to do with it, but it had to figure. I was there for one night. There was no reason to let me win so they would get me hooked and take me for a fortune later. And I wasn’t going to develop into the driver they needed for the Miami run. From the casino’s standpoint, there was no reason to let me win at all, and from then on I didn’t even come close.
    Due to my creative bankrolling, I still had 150 dollars of my stake money tucked in my side pocket when I was able to shove my last chip on the table and declare I was broke.
    Murphy was disappointed. “It’s only midnight,” he said. “This place doesn’t close till four. Let me loan you a little stake. We can straighten it out in the morning.”
    “Nope,” I said. “When your luck’s bad, it’s bad. Believe me, tonight mine’s bad. And I want to get a little sleep before my flight, anyway. I can’t sleep on airplanes. Too nervous, I guess. Anyway, don’t let me spoil your fun. Thanks for the invite. I’ll give you a call from Miami when I get back.”
    Murphy seemed glad to be off the hook. “You sure you can get uptown all right? It’s not easy to get a cab around here.”
    I grinned. “If I’d won I’d be worried about it. You can’t mug a loser. I’ll be all right.”
    “You got cabfare?”
    “Always save cabfare. See you.”
    Jack took me down in the freight elevator and spewed me out into the darkened street. Despite the bravado of my statement to Murphy, I wasn’t too keen about being out there at midnight. I stepped along briskly in the deserted street, and felt the old 718 surge of relief when a solitary cab with the light on came around a corner and picked me up.
    I took the cab back uptown to get my car. I discovered I’d parked right in front of Murder Ink., the detective bookstore. How symbolic, I thought ironically. Yeah, sure, me and Phillip Marlowe.
    I drove back downtown to 7th Street and Avenue B to check on Gutierrez’s girlfriend. I’d been there once already, right after I finished with Gutierrez’s apartment, but she’d been out. I parked on the corner across the street, and had just gotten out of my car, when a girl emerged from a doorway halfway down the block and began walking down the street away from me. From that angle, I couldn’t tell which door she’d come out of, but it seemed to be damn near the candy store. I quickly locked the car, neglecting for once to turn the code alarm on, and hurried down the block to the candy store. An old lady was sitting on the front steps. She didn’t look like a bag lady, but she didn’t look too many steps up the social ladder either.
    “Is Rosa around?” I asked her.
    I