Private Dick Casefile 01 - Lily White Rose Red

tomorrow. I wondered if Lily would call it subtle and sophisticated. Not that she was ever going to see it.
    I made a strong effort not to scuttle toward the club bent over like a caveman. I wouldn’t want anyone to think my primal instincts had gotten the better of me, although the chance of looking at Mr. Martin, AKA Mr. Beautiful, did have certain… effects on parts of the anatomy.
    On the other hand, the spot on my lower right side where Captain Woods had pounded me was starting to hurt, but a limping dick wouldn’t strike much terror into the hearts of evildoers.
    I didn’t bother looking for Artie. Ten to one he was around somewhere. And sure enough, when I got closer to the door, he fell into step beside me.
    “You’re gonna get me inside, right, Grey?”
    “I’ll do my best, Artie. Listen, do the cops know about this place?”
    “Hell, yeah. Why shouldn’t they?” Artie said easily.
    “Just a little matter of five years in the slam for being queer,” I retorted.
    “That’s only if you get caught in person doing the dastardly deed,” Artie said. “And even then, you pretty much have to be the one taking it up the ass. If you’re just standing there getting blown, it’s not such a big deal. If you know how to deal.” I laughed. I’d have thought Artie only went in for the big deals, if 138

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    you get my drift.
    “So how does this place survive without its customers getting rousted?”
    “Are you for real, Grey? You call yourself a hard-bitten dick, and here I bet you believe in fairies too.” Artie went off in a fit of laughter that ended with a hoarse cough. Sometimes he liked his own crappy jokes too much.
    Okay, maybe I got a chuckle out of the crack about fairies too.
    “You’re saying the cops are on the take?”
    “Give me a break. Everybody in Vegas sucks on the casino tit,” Artie said. “This kind of club is nickel and dime stuff.”
    “Where do you learn all this stuff?”
    “I probably spend more time in men’s rooms than you do.” No doubt about that. “So how is it done? Some cop walks in and threatens to break heads and the owner forks over a bribe? They negotiate?” Speaking of which, I dug out a century and gave it to Artie.
    No sense in me having to buy him a drink because he was flat. Plus I owed him for convoying the goods.
    Artie gave another guffaw. “You’re kidding, right? If you don’t know—tell you what, ask your boyfriend.”
    “What boyfriend?”
    “The owner, Mr. Big.”
    “Phil Martin? He’s not my—” I shut my mouth quick.
    “Don’t you know how big he is yet?” Artie hooted at his own wit.
    I could feel my face getting red. Artie couldn’t possibly know—
    “So he’s in bed with the big players and the cops?”
    “Why don’t you ask him?”
    “Maybe I will.”
    Damn and blast. I’d hoped that maybe I’d seen the last of Phil Martin, but things kept coming back around to him. I guess maybe I was going have to look at him again. See if he was the kind of guy who Lily White, Rose Red: Grey Randall, Private Dick Casefile #1
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    could put his hands around a dame’s throat and squeeze. With my luck, I’d find out his middle name started with a B.
    I knocked and held up the disc to the peephole. When the muscle opened the door, he merely nodded at me, but he almost keeled over in a swoon when he saw Artie. I was thinking I’d have to argue to get Artie inside, but instead the gate guardian said, “Hey, rough trade.
    Long time no see.”
    “How long?” Artie asked with a chortle.
    Artie. Flirting. In a raunchy way, but flirting nonetheless. I’d never seen that before. I stopped to watch. It’s never too late to learn something new, although I doubt I’ll ever be using any of his pick-up lines.
    “Long enough. I got a break coming up in fifteen,” the door goon said with a grin. “I’ll meet you there.”
    Artie gave him a bright smile and a nod. In an undertone he said to me, “If I’m lucky, I can squeeze one in before then. Get it? Squeeze one—”
    I dislodged his elbow from my bruised ribs. “Yeah, I got it, very clever. Gimme your watch.”
    “Oh, yeah, right. I forgot.”
    I guess Artie was in such a hurry to squeeze in another appointment, he just handed me his watch and took off behind the curtain. Suited me. The fewer people who saw me flaunting the pendant around, the better.
    When I walked into Lambda, there was nothing that said Mr. Big had to be there. After all, he had other clubs to