Joe Pitt 1 - Already Dead Read Online Free PDF Page A

up.
    He grabs a rocks glass and fills it with whiskey while I look the place over. The Niagara
     is skinny around the bar then opens up into a big back room, but that area is kept roped
     off until the crowd builds up later and the cocktail waitress comes on. No sign of Philip.
     Billy plops the drink down in front of me.
    --There ya go, Mr. Marlowe, one cheap bourbon onna house.
    --Thanks. Seen Philip around?
    --Naw, not yet. He'll be in later.
    --You see him first, don't tell him I'm looking.
    Billy nods his head.
    --Sure thing. He owe ya money, something?
    --Something.
    --Well look, guy owes
    
    
     me
    
    
     money, two hundred fiddy and change. Get my coin outta him while yer shakin' 'im down, an
     I'll wipe yer tab.
    --I ain't got a tab here, I pay for my drinks.
    --That's right. Get my cash an I'll see ya ain't got no tab the next month or so.
     Everythin' onna house. Even the top shelf, you start ta feelin' fancy.
    --I'll see what I can do.
    Billy puts out his hand to shake, then slides back down the bar to work on a little number
     sporting the inevitable Betty Page cut and fishnets. I check her out. Nice package, round
     ass peeking over the edge of the stool, low-cut vintage dress with pale white cleavage
     pushed up out of a red lace bra. Billy makes out well with that kind of action. Hell,
     Billy makes out well with most kinds of action. Just one of those guys. Me, I haven't had
     a woman in over twenty-five years. Fooled around some, sure, but the whole deal I haven't
     had in about a quarter of a century. Long story. I look at the number's ass again then
     look away. I don't need to do that. I want to torture myself I can call Evie later.
    I sip my cheap booze and smoke Luckys and watch the crowd build. Around ten they open the
     back room and I move there. All the time I'm thinking I should be out looking for the
     carrier. Instead I'm here in greaser heaven watching all the wannabes compare their latest
     Sailor Jerry knockoff tattoos while they try to hook up with chicks in vintage dresses and
     sling-back pumps. I'm here because the only damn lead I maybe have on the carrier is
     Philip. The toad knows something and I'm gonna get it out of him.
    Just before eleven the cocktail waitress drifts over and tries to hand me a fresh drink. I
     look at the glass she's holding and shake my head.
    --I didn't order anything.
    --Yeah, I know.
    She puts the glass in my hands.
    --It's from Billy.
    She nods at the little napkin under the glass.
    --I think he likes you.
    I look at the napkin. It has a note written on it:
    
    
     He's here.
    
    
     I look up. The cocktail waitress is still standing there.
    --What?
    --You know, you should put something on your face for that burn.
    --Great, thanks for the tip.
    She snorts.
    --Yeah, thank you for the tip, too.
    
    
     Not.
    She starts to walk away and I put a hand on her shoulder. She shrugs it off.
    --Easy, bruiser.
    --Yeah easy. Wait a sec.
    I dig in my pocket and come up with a few twenties and put one on her tray.
    --That's for the delivery service. You know a tall skinny guy named Philip, hangs out here?
    --Sure.
    --He just came in, right?
    --Yeah, he's in the crowd up by the door.
    I drop another twenty on her tray.
    --Do me a favor; take the guy a drink, one of those fancy Scotches is what he likes. Tell
     him it's from a chick back here, she wants him to come say hi.
    She looks at the money.
    --What do I tell him if he asks who she is?
    --Tell him she's the one with the Betty Page haircut.
    She heads over to the bar. I peek over the crowd and see Philip's pomp towering over the
     crowd. His hair is bleach blond, piled about ten inches high into a cliff that sticks out
     half a foot beyond his forehead. I see the cocktail waitress walk away from the bar with a
     McSomethingorother on her tray. She maneuvers through the press of bodies till she reaches
     Philip. His pompadour dips as he listens to what she has to say. She points in the