Private Dick Casefile 01 - Lily White Rose Red

in my holster and retrieving the disc. My hands were shaking but I didn’t let him see.

    Lily White, Rose Red: Grey Randall, Private Dick Casefile #1
    25

    “I hear you landed yourself a keeper.” He used both hands to trace the curves of an exaggerated female figure.
    “What don’t you hear?” I got to my feet and slapped the dust off my pants with my hat.
    Artie shrugged. “Thought you might need more man muscle, my son.”
    I glared at him. “Not yet. I’ll call you if I need you.”
    “No phone.”
    “I’ll send up a smoke signal.” It didn’t matter. If I needed help, Artie would show up. He had a nose for trouble.
    “What did you find? Is it worth anything?”
    “Who says I found anything?”
    He laughed. “Yeah, it’s not everyday I can walk up behind you, Grey. Ears like a bat.”
    “A bat?”
    “You know, sonar, or radar maybe. Whatever they have.” Sometimes Artie surprised me with the weird stuff he knew, what with being a boxer. You wouldn’t think that would leave him much time for reading, especially if another fighter had rung his chimes in a bout. The rest of the time he did odd jobs for the criminal element to get enough money for gym fees.
    I held out the disc so he could see it.
    “A bottle cap,” he said in a disgusted voice.
    “Turn it over.”
    He did, and I held the light so he could see it. He poked it with a finger and then looked up at me with a little grin. “Feeling horny?”
    “Brings back old times, doesn’t it?”
    He nodded, but his expression was quizzical. “You mean, you’re not a member?”

    26

    CATT FORD

    He knew I was queer, like I knew he was, but it wasn’t something we ever chatted about. In fact, I suspected that he swung both ways, but he was a meat-eater if there was any to be had. He liked beefier guys than me, and I didn’t much want him, but we’d drunk out of the same bottle once or twice, and he’d told me some stories.
    “A member of what?”
    Artie nodded at the cap. “This place. It’s the ritziest queer club in Vegas.”
    “Not like the dives you hang out at?”
    He shrugged. “The club is more high class. They call it Lambda, but there’s no name on the door. Doctors, lawyers, fancy nances getting their rocks off before going home to the missus.” Just goes to show how out of touch I was. I’d heard there were clubs, but experience had taught me to stay out of them. I had two hands, and I was equally good with both. One of the benefits of being ambidextrous in certain areas; if I got tired of my pal Lefty, there was always Righty.
    “Where is this place? And what makes it so tony?” Artie pointed at the cap. “That’s your ticket in. Members only.
    It’s over that way. I gotta show you. No street names in the train yard.”
    “In the train yard?”
    “Keeps the passing foot traffic down. You gotta know about it to find it.”
    “Okay, show me the way.”
    “I could show you something all right, soldier.” He chuckled and turned to lead the way, his hulking shadow ominous against the brick walls.
    “So how do you know about this joint if you don’t go there?”
    “Word gets around. I know a few guys.” He smacked his lips, and I got the drift. Artie liked a good mouthful.
    “What’s the drill?”

    Lily White, Rose Red: Grey Randall, Private Dick Casefile #1
    27

    “Same as a speak. You knock three times, some goon slides back a spyhole in the door. Show him the sign, he opens up.”
    “And what the hell was a skirt doing carrying this around?” I muttered out loud without really meaning to.
    “Could have been the fella,” Artie pointed out.
    I looked at him. That was way too smart for him to come up with on his own, and anyway, he was smirking again. “Spill it.”
    “She was a torcher, or so I heard. Heard she worked at that club.”
    “A queer joint? Employing a dame?”
    He shrugged and pointed. “See that door?”
    I looked. I still had the flashlight in my pocket, but I had the feeling the management wouldn’t take too kindly to lights being flashed around. I mean, they’d gone to a lot of trouble to keep it discreet, locating in a spot that was virtually deserted at night. No lights showed anywhere, but I could hear the faint sound of music.
    “Want I should stick around?”
    “Nah, they see your ugly mug, they’ll probably shoot me before they’d let me in. Encouraging a bad element to hang around. Take a powder.”
    “Have fun.” His dirty leer along with his flattened nose made