My Sister's Detective

by T. J. Jones

  "Call me Sam, and no, Deepak is no relation. I get asked that a lot, but it's a fairly common name where I come from. Come in, please. You were friends with Davey I gathered from our conversation? I spoke with his mother and she said I should give you the rest of his belongings. Sit, please. Would you like some coffee or tea?"

  "Coffee would be great. Incredible view." The big curtains were pulled back and a large expanse of South Beach was visible.

  "Davey loved to look out at the ocean and watch the sunrise. It breaks my heart every time I think about him being gone."

  Maggie and I sat on the big leather couch and looked around at the enormous room while Sam busied himself pouring coffee. He put our cups down then grabbed his own tea and settled onto a cushion on the floor, sitting cross legged, a position that would have crippled me for a good twenty minutes. Sam looked considerably younger than me, not someone who could easily afford such an extravagant place.

  "I hope that you won't be offended, but like I said on the phone, we aren't convinced that Davey killed himself. I don't mean to pry into your business, but I'm trying to get a sense of what was going on in his life."

  "Feel free to ask me anything you wish, Mr. Slater. I was as surprised as anyone that Davey would kill himself. We had a complex relationship, but I will tell you what I can.""

  "Complex, in what way? You and Davey, were you just roommates, friends, more?"

  "I am mostly heterosexual in my proclivities. Davey and I started out as more than friends, but it was casual and it didn't amount to anything, just curiosity on my part. But we remained friends, and this place is huge. He needed a place close in, and wanted to get away from a difficult situation in a hurry."

  "Difficult, in what way? Jilted ex, could be motivation for murder."

  "I don't think it was a romantic relationship, but somebody with a lot of money, and some kind of a hold over him. One time he came home with a shiner, but he kept going back to see the guy, like he couldn't stop."

  "We all know people like that." Maggie nodded.

  "Could he have been being blackmailed somehow?" I asked.

  "I haven't a clue. I think he got beat up more than once by whoever it was. When I asked him about it, he said it was just a part of some game. I got the sense that it wasn't sexual, but like I said, he refused to tell me about it. He was about as normal as anybody I knew, romantically speaking. Whatever was going on, he was hurting, and he didn't seem to be enjoying it. He certainly never struck me as a masochist."

  "So maybe this person had something on him?"

  "I don't know. Davey told me one time that in a past life he had done some things he wasn't proud of and that he owed a penance. Of course, he was always kidding me about the past life thing."

  "We've all done things we aren't proud of." I nodded, then asked the big question. "What about drugs? Was Davey doing drugs, or could he have been selling them? Looking at this place, I'm guessing his half of the rent took a big bite out of his checkbook."

  "He smoked a little pot from time to time, but nothing else. He was hard core about taking care of himself and staying in shape. As for rent, he never paid a dime. I wouldn't let him. I come from a very wealthy family and this place is all paid for by my grandfather's estate, as is my allowance."

  "Wow, generous of you."

  "I also work with my father's firm here in town and draw a nice salary from that. I'm spoiled and privileged, so why not give back when I can? David's mother was under the impression that we were splitting the rent too, and I never told her any different. She didn't seem convinced that our relationship was platonic, but it was. He was a great guy and a friend.

  "But you're sure, no drugs."

  "Sure as I can be. We both had busy lives, now just I do." He stood up suddenly, as if reminded of his busy life, and disappeared into one of the other rooms. He reappeared shortly with a small stack of papers and a handgun, complete with a shoulder holster and a box of shells. He put it down carefully on the coffee table, being sure the muzzle was aimed away from us. "It's empty, but I'm not a fan of guns. Davey had a permit to carry."

  "Kind of odd, knowing Davey." Maggie slid the handgun out of its holster and inspected it. "Glock 19, decent gun, small enough to hide."

  "Not surprised you know that." I laughed. "But I agree, I never thought Davey would be a guy to carry. I guess there's quite a lot we didn't know about him."

  "It was back on the top shelf of his closet with those old bank statements. I missed it the first time through. His mother told me to just keep the gun, but I would never use it, probably shoot myself in the foot. You should take it with you." He paused and looked down. "I should have come to the funeral, but I hate them and it would have been no help to his parents. His father was sure he was lying about our living arrangement."

  "Eddy needed to accept his son for what he was, which was a great guy." It was a touchy subject for me and I stood up and extended my hand. "I didn't make it to the funeral either so don't feel bad. We better go, looks like you have things to do. Is it alright if we call you if we need to?"

  "Absolutely, whatever I can do. I hope it isn't the case, but if someone killed Davey, I will pray that you catch the bastard and he becomes a cockroach in the next life."

  ***

  "Good guy." I said as we rode the elevator down to street level.

  "Yeah, cute too. We keep hearing about this mysterious man that Davey was involved with, maybe boyfriend, maybe abuser. Soon as we sit somewhere, I'll call Angie and see if she's holding out on us. Close as they were, you'd think he would have said something to her about this guy. She needs to tell us everything if she expects us to figure this out."

  "Okay Nancy Drew, hungry yet?"

  "A little. Maybe some steamed crab? There are plenty of outdoor places."

  "Let's walk down to Billy's, that's one of the bars that he had a card for. It's only six blocks from here, south on Collins. It's early, maybe it isn't packed and we can talk to someone who knew Davey. I don't think we should make too big a deal out of it, just act like we're his old friends, not like we're investigating in any official capacity."

  "We are his old friends, and we have no official capacity."

  I nodded. "Good point, but you do have that Glock in your bag now. Don't accidently shoot anybody."

  "I have a permit to carry, Slater. Besides, you'd be my most likely target, and it wouldn't be an accident." She flashed me a grin so I'd know she was kidding.

  As soon as we hit Collins the pedestrian traffic tripled. There were a fair number of panhandlers and people doing various forms of street art, from a guy with cornrows playing Bob Marley beside an open guitar case, to some clown pretending to be a Mime, apparently just for the fun of it. I tossed a five in Marley's guitar case, and Maggie grabbed my elbow and pulled me away.

  "Slater, this is Miami, everybody is running a scam of some kind and they all want your cash, so don't flash it around."

  "What? That guy was really good, he even looked like Marley."

  "Just pay attention, that's all I'm saying."

  Billy's was a big, high-end place, three levels with a bar that wrapped half way around the big dance floor in the middle. My guess was that by eight o'clock that evening there would be a line and you would need to look rich, famous, or both to get in the door. The place was empty save for a few couples eating lunch at the tables. We slid onto barstools near the door to the kitchen.

  "What'll it be folks, pick your poison." The bartender was a jovial looking guy with a white shirt, black vest and a shiny head. Another pair of bartenders were chatting to each other nearby, one a big man with an enormous belly and the other a small slender woman.

  "Couple of cold beers, tap is fine." Maggie ordered for us.

  "Light beer for me." I winked at her. "Want to split an order of onion rings?"

  "Alright, I usually avoid the deep-fried stuff, but we are kind of on vacation. Onion rings it is."

  "I didn't think you'd go for it, but
it sounds good to me." We started drinking our beers, watching the big screen television, and eating a few peanuts. The woman who was bartending wandered over, checking out Maggie's earrings and making girl talk. Our timing was perfect, the shift had just started and there weren't enough customers yet to keep everyone busy. Another hour and the place would be bustling.

  It seemed like a good time to jump in. The bald guy walked back over and I caught his eye. "Do you happen to know a guy by the name of David Templeton? I went to high school with him up in Jacksonville. Another guy I know from home said he bumped into him in here and he's a talent scout or something? My girl here can sing like Carrie Underwood and I wouldn't mind finding him."

  "Yeah? Sorry, but you're going to have to find another agent. Templeton's dead, killed himself about a month ago I heard."

  "Good riddance, if you ask me." The third bartender walked up. He had a bushy beard and several missing teeth.

  "I didn't know him really well in school, but I know he was gay. That why you weren't a fan?" I asked the guy.

  "He was a frigging perv. Talent scout? From what I heard the talent he liked was all pretty damn young, and it wasn't their singing he was after."

  The woman bartender scowled at him. "Jesus, Ricky, why do you keep harping on that old rumor. Davey was a nice guy. He was lonely, that's why he came in here all the time. He was gay, so you figure he had to be perving on kids? Look in the police blotter dipshit, most of the pedophiles in there look a lot more like you than Davey Templeton."

  "You women, always sticking up for the queers." Toothless muttered tossing a peanut between his four brown teeth.

  "I'm not a woman, and I liked Davey just fine." I threw in.

  "Yeah, whatever. Damn Liberals, country's gone straight to hell." Ricky grumbled and walked away.

  "So anyway, Davey killed himself? We already lost a lot of people from my senior class. The next reunion is getting smaller all the time."

  "I was really surprised when I heard about it." The woman nodded, leaning against her side of the bar.

  "No truth to that rumor then? Wasn't a guilt suicide?"

  She frowned at me. "Davey came in once a week or so, he'd sit at the bar and bullshit, just like you're doing. I don't know how the rumor started about him pimping kids, probably just because he worked for that talent agency. I've been here six years, and some of the guys were saying that back then. Bunch of morons, some people are always looking for something lousy to say."

  "But he was dealing drugs, that's what that friend of mine said."

  "I thought you were a friend of Davey's?" She pushed away from her spot at the bar.

  "I knew him, like I said, we were in the same class. Don't get mad at me, I'm just saying what I heard." I was curious how far she would go to defend him.

  "Now you sound like the rest of them, just spreading shit you heard second hand. Like I said, Davey was a good guy, period. I have work to do in the back." She turned and slammed through the double doors into the kitchen.

  Maggie shook her head. "Nice move Slater, you have all the bartenders mad at us. Hard to say what she's doing to our onion rings back there."

  "Well, I had to ask. Obviously, she was a Davey fan, and the fat guy wasn't. But just because he wasn't peddling drugs in here, doesn't mean he wasn't selling them somewhere else. It still comes down to all that money in his bank account."

  "We have to consider the idea that maybe it belonged to the mysterious boyfriend. If Davey hid it in his account the guy would really have to trust him, or figure Davey was too scared of him to try to run with it."

  "What if he threatened Davey's family? The woman at the agency said Davey was planning to quit because he wanted to go home to take care of family."

  "And he told Angie we should all move away. Did he figure this guy might go after us too, just because we were close to him?"

  "Threatening to hurt his Mom would be about the worst thing you could do to Davey, and he would have done anything to protect Angie and you." The first bartender brought our onion rings, and I pushed a couple of them in my mouth. "Eat up. We need to hit the next place before it gets crowded."

  ***

  The next place I had a card for was on a side street and it wasn't nearly as nice. Not really nice at all. It was dark and smelled of stale beer. The bartender waited on us but didn't bother making conversation. I asked him and one of the waitresses about Davey and just got blank looks, but after we sat for another ten minutes one of the girls came up to us and nodded her head.

  "My boss was wondering if he could have a word with you, in the back."

  We followed the girl down a short, even darker hallway into a small office that reeked of sweat and cheap cigars. There was a dim fluorescent on the ceiling and a single light bulb hanging over a cluttered desk. I half expected someone would make us an offer we couldn't refuse, which Maggie thought was funny.

  The stout, puffy man behind the desk stared at us coldly through tiny slits that passed for eyes and motioned at a pair of chairs. There were no introductions and the waitress turned and hurried back to the front. He picked up his smoldering cigar and pointed it at us like an extra finger. "Heard you're asking about David Templeton. What do you know about that piece of shit?"

  I frowned at him. "What do you know? I'm investigating his death."

  "You the cops? You don't look like cops." He glanced at Maggie. "You sure as hell don't look like a cop."

  I made a move as if to pull out my wallet. "His mother hired me to look into his death, I'm a licensed private investigator." I lied.

  He waved a chubby hand. "A little piece of paper doesn't mean shit to me." He picked up his cigar again and took a puff, then sat peering at us through the haze. He sat like that, unmoving, contemplating us through those tiny slits for so long I began to wonder if he'd dozed off or if all those cheap cigars had finally killed him. Then he jerked suddenly, either awake, or back to life, and started talking.

  "I ran Templeton out of here about a year ago. If you talked to anyone else in South Beach, you must have heard the rumors that he was pimping young girls. Mostly runaways and refugees, some migrant kids that came into the country without their folks. He was sending them all over, some of them overseas. Selling kids! Damn piece of shit, like I said."

  I shrugged. "We heard that old rumor. Any facts, or are you just repeating gossip?"

  "Absolute fact. I'd heard it before, and I figured it was bullshit too, just people talking crap because he liked guys. Haters gonna' hate, you know?" Another big puff, then he inhaled and told his story.

  "About a year ago I hired a Latino girl to wash dishes. She'd been a street walker, drug addict, you name it, but I gave her a chance. I brought her in off the street and she ended up being a damn good worker, still here to this day. Anyway, one afternoon right after she started, she's bussing dishes and she sees Davey Templeton come into the bar. She runs in the back room screaming and yelling that he's the devil, or works for the devil, and that if he recognizes her, she's as good as dead."

  "Why would she think that?"

  "That's when she told me what happened to her, and this is firsthand, not a rumor. She said she met Templeton when she was fourteen years old, fresh off the boat that brought her here from Honduras. He promised her the moon and lined her up with some big shot that claimed he would make her a star. This big shot told her she was beautiful, really special, all the shit they tell desperate young girls until they get their hooks into them. She called him Diablo de pelo blanco."

  "The white-haired Devil." Maggie translated.

  "I guess. I don't speak Spanish very well, but I heard that phrase enough times to figure out what she meant."

  "How long ago was it that she met Davey?" I asked.

  "Four, maybe five years, give or take. Anyway, this white-haired Devil was a real sicko. He locked her in a cage and shot her full of drugs, beat her up and screwed her until he got tired of it, then put her out on the street. She had no idea who he was or
where he lived, just woke up starving and homeless, in bad need of a fix. You can imagine what happened next. Pimp came along, gave her a hit and a hot meal and pretty soon she's just another hooker turning tricks to stay alive."

  "Doesn't sound like the Davey Templeton I know. He wouldn't be part of anything like that."

  "Yeah? He used to be a regular in here and I thought he was okay, but when I jumped his ass about what the girl said, the look on his face told me everything I needed to know. He's lucky I'm not a violent guy. I did mention the fact that I'd see him dead if he ever came in my bar again. Could be someone overheard that, so don't go thinking it was me that killed him."

  "Supposedly he committed suicide. His being murdered, is that just another rumor?"

  "Word around on the Beach is that somebody helped with that suicide, and it doesn't hurt my feelings a bit. That Diablo Blanco asshole would be my guess."

  "White haired, you said de pelo, with white hair." Maggie corrected him.

  "Far as my dishwasher's concerned, he's the God damn Devil, and he's a white man, so close enough."

  "Why did you call us back here? My name's Slater, and this is Maggie." I extended a hand that he ignored. "If you hate Davey so bad, why talk to us?"

  He took another long pull on his cigar. "Carson. Don't get the idea we're friends now. Somebody comes around asking about a guy that's been murdered, I want to know why. I've had my share of trouble with the cops and I don't need more."

  "What about this girl? Any chance we could talk to her?"

  "Her English isn't great and she's still scared this Diablo guy is going to come after her. Last thing I'd want is for her to run and end up on the streets again. I know this place may seem like a dump compared to some of those up the street, but I'm a loyal guy and I take care of my people."

  "I just need more information about this Diablo, if she can remember. Like you said, it seems possible he killed Davey, and that's what we're trying to find out. I'd like to know how much Davey did and how involved he was with her kidnapping, or whatever it was."