Port of Sorrow (9 page)

CHAPTER
16

Finn’s hotel room was a shambles. Veronique’s evening clothes were strewn everywhere; makeup jars were scattered, some smashed against walls in multi-colored Rorschach; and the spilled bottle of bourbon had seeped into the carpet to fill the air with alcoholic fumes.

“Doesn’t this hotel have maids?” Julia asked, wrinkling her nose as she closed the door.

“I’m not a paying guest,” Finn replied as he opened the window. “The room comes with the job, maids don’t.”

“I thought my place was bad, but this. . . .”

“I’ve stayed in worse,” Finn replied. He rummaged through the closet for a clean T-shirt, underwear and socks. “Can I offer you anything while I change? Tea? Water?”

“I’ll make tea,” Julia volunteered. “Just show me where everything is.”

Finn studied her a moment as if trying to guess her weight. “The tea bags and pot are in the bottom drawer of the makeup table. I’ll fill the kettle.”

Finn headed to the washroom while Julia tracked down the teapot and dropped in two perforated bags of Earl Grey. She left it on top of the table for Finn to fill with boiling water when he re-emerged. They didn’t speak until the tea was poured into cups and they each had a few soothing sips.

Julia went first. “What happened to your face?”

“Wells and two of his pals. They were waiting after Gilles sprang me.”

“Gilles set it up?”

“How’d you guess?” Finn asked sarcastically.

“I’ve had my own run-ins with that prick.”

“Is that why you looked so bitchy when you picked me up?”

Julia laughed. It suited her.

“How did you guess?” she mocked.

Finn grinned. “What did he do to you?”

“Never mind, I can handle him.”

“I don’t doubt it, but I owe him for more than the beating.”

“What else did he do?”

Finn hesitated before telling her about the nightstick incident. He left out any mention of Joseph lying in Abery’s makeshift hospital for fear the police would close her down.

“You could charge him.”

Finn shook his head. “If I tried, I would find myself back up on attempted murder charges. I’m lucky the assholes thought they could get justice their own way. If I stay alive, I’m better off than in prison.”

“You think they’ll try again?”

“I’ve wounded more than flesh. Men, especially these men, don’t easily forgive.”

“Maybe you should leave town.”

“Not until somebody pays for Selene’s murder.”

Julia’s face turned serious.

“I don’t endorse vigilantism.”

“I had my shot and failed,” Finn said with a shrug. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

“If you kill Wells, I’ll bring you in.”

“I didn’t say I was going to kill him.”

“You didn’t say you weren’t.”

Finn shrugged again and sipped his tea.

Julia chewed on her lower lip before asking, “The manager, Percy, said he and Selene had a sexual understanding. Did you know anything about it?”

“He’s a liar,” Finn spat, his anger sparking up again. “By tomorrow, he’ll be telling his friends how he bedded you down and had you begging for more.”

Julia bristled at the words.

“Don’t take it personally,” Finn continued. “The little shit fantasizes about everyone. He told the cook he did me doggy style over his desk until he found out I was the wrong sex. Then he ran around telling everyone he’d fire whoever was spreading such vicious lies.”

Finn watched her fight back a surge of anger, amused by her transparent show of control.

“There’s another thing I’m curious about,” Julia said, her clam voice betrayed by still-burning eyes.

Finn waited.

“The coroner tells me Selene was a virgin.”

Finn nodded. “Selene loved to tease, but she was also a romantic. She was still waiting for the right guy.”

“You loved her.” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement.

“Love isn’t a strong enough word,” Finn said, his eyes glistening with moisture. “No one has ever known all my secrets, all my faults, and still accepted me so completely. Selene was no angel, but she was everything to me.”

CHAPTER
17

William Edward Connick knew his days with the Seattle Times were coming to an end. He was 52, looked 60, felt 70, but lived like he still had the internal organs of a 30-year-old.

In other words, he was early-retirement-for-your-own-good, corporate-downsizing fodder; the type of journalist who could still remember hot-lead, manual typewriters, and a bottle of hooch stashed in the bottom drawer of everyone’s pencil-stained desk.

He was not a mouse-pushing, voice mail, corporate visioning, desktop publishing, obsolete making, clean-living kid with university degrees in English, political science and socio-economic psychology.

Thank God.

Willy grew up on the streets, fighting hard, living tough, and breaking a few top news stories along the way. He knew how to talk to people

or at least he used to. Nowadays, he sat beside a police scanner on the midnight-to-six a.m. shift, sipping on a flask, and making random police checks by phone.

The only reason he still picked up a check was management had forgotten he existed.

Willy was about to change all that.

His routine midnight call to Port Sorrow had sprung dirt, juicy dirt, flavored with the smell of murder. He milked the desk sergeant for enough facts to get a four-inch story. He stretched that to six, stuck his byline on top and convinced the baby-faced re-plate editor to slide it on the bottom of the third page in time for city edition. The headline was only one line of 24-point type, Stripper murdered, but Willy knew it could only get bigger.

As soon as his shift was over, Willy hopped into his ’76 Pinto and headed for the 101. Within two hours, the car decided it was too tired to go on. Its radiator blew apart outside the town limits, and Port Sorrow welcomed Willy on foot.

Wearing a rumpled trench coat, baggy brown pants, mustard-stained shirt, off-white socks and heavy-soled black shoes, Willy blended perfectly with the Hotel Washington’s regular clientele.

The desk clerk didn’t bat an eye when he checked into a room on the second floor and made casual mention of the murder. It only took thirty seconds of idle chatter to uncover which room belonged to the victim.

Moments later, Willy stood outside the door of Selene’s room, listening closely to the conversation taking place within. A wide grin puckered his face at the mention of Selene’s virginity.

That fact alone transformed Selene from a dime-a-dozen whore to a sympathetic victim. It might even bump the story above the fold.

Willy skirted away from the door when he heard one of the people inside move towards it. He ducked into the stairwell across the hall just as an attractive, uniformed deputy walked out of the room and headed for the elevator.

After she was gone, Willy walked to the door and rapped on it with his knuckles.

It was time to go back to work.

FINN OPENED THE
door, expecting to find Julia had forgotten something. Instead, he found a rumpled, overweight man with a boozer’s nose planted crookedly in the middle of dimpled cheeks and a shallow chin.

“Can I help you?” Finn asked.

“I hope so, though it looks like you needed my help earlier with the truck that hit you. Sorry I wasn’t around.”

Finn wasn’t amused. “Who are you?”

“My friends call me Willy. Course most of them are dead now, but I still use the name.”

Willy stuck out his hand. Finn ignored it.

“If you’re selling something, I’m not interested.”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong,” Willy said, still grinning. “I’m selling redemption.”

“Get lost.” Finn could feel his anger rising.

“You don’t understand,” Willy protested. “I’m not selling redemption for you. It’s Selene I’m interested in.”

“Selene’s dead.” The words were painful to say.

“I know.” Willy pulled out the morning newspaper from his side pocket and smoothed it to show the story on page three.

Finn glanced at it and shrugged.

“Don’t you see?” asked Willy. “All anybody knows is that a stripper died here last night. Who cares, right? Just another sinner.”

Finn glared at him.

Willy continued. “But I want to write Selene’s story. How did an innocent, virginal girl end up naked and dead in a shit hole like this? I want everyone to know there was a person behind the body. I want people to be outraged. I don’t want the uncaring bastards shrugging their shoulders and flipping to the Sports section. Will you help me?”

“Selene was my friend,” Finn said softly as he opened the door wider. “If you screw her story, I’ll kill you.”

“No fears, pal,” Willy said with a grin. “This is my last shot at redemption, too.”

CHAPTER
18

Julia knocked once on the hotel manager’s door before pushing it open. The room was completely dark except for a horizontal two-way mirror that ran the length of one wall. Through the mirror, Julia could see five women in various stages of undress preparing for the afternoon strip show. Their perky particulars were aimed directly into the office.

“Close the door, deputy,” said the voice of Sir Percy Archibald Fearing. “The light will bother the girls.”

Julia closed the door and was immediately swallowed in blackness.

“Quite a pleasant show, don’t you agree?” Percy asked. “I love to watch women fondle themselves.”

“Can I switch on the light?” Julia asked, ignoring the question.

“If you must,” he sighed. “Just let me drop the blind.” With the click of a remote control, a plastic shutter began to close off the mirror.

Julia clicked on the light before the shutter was halfway down, exposing his private perversion to the strippers. None of them even blinked as they continued to dab pancake on their breasts and rouge on their nipples.

Percy chuckled. “Tricky, tricky, Ms. Rusk. But the girls are quite aware of my observation. I’m not as sneaky as you seem to believe.”

Julia didn’t bother to hide her disgust as she remained by the door. “Finn tells me you lied about being intimate with Selene.”

Percy shrugged. “It’s possible I was mistaken. When you’ve had as many lovers as I, it’s easy to forget who you have and haven’t slept with.”

Julia walked over and slapped her hands on top of his desk. “I could have you arrested for interfering in a police investigation by knowingly supplying false information.”

Percy smiled, his teeth glistening beneath moist pink lips. “Are you sure you just don’t want to see me wrapped in chains behind bars. Is that your secret fantasy?”

“You little shit!”

Percy giggled with delight. “I think we could couple marvelously. I know all the secrets to make a woman groan with pleasure.”

Julia leaned in close, her upper lip curling into a sneer. “If I ever hear one of your stories involves me in any way, I’ll cut off your balls and mail them to China.”

Percy stuck out his lower lip in a pout. “Don’t say it unless you mean it.”

Julia stomped out of the room, slapping off the light as she went.

IN THE HALLWAY
, Julia attempted to swallow her anger by clenching and unclenching her fists. It helped to imagine her hands wrapped around Percy’s throat.

After regaining control, she knocked on the dressing room door and entered. The women inside barely glanced up from their mirrors until Julia cleared her throat.

Powdered faces with violet, pink and green eye shadow turned towards her slowly, appraising her from shoes to hairline.

“I need to ask a few questions about Selene,” Julia said.

“You don’t look tough enough to be a cop, honey,” a tall black woman answered.

Julia tried to think of a witty comeback, but couldn’t. The woman, in fact all the women, looked like strippers: tough eyes, rubbery bodies, more makeup than Queen Victoria to disguise a million flaws. The only comeback she managed was, “Finn said you would co-operate.”

The black woman smiled. It made tiny cracks appear in her foundation. “We’ll tell you what we know. I doubt it’ll be of much help though.”

The women gathered in a circle around Julia to tell their stories of Selene. According to them, Selene was as tough as anyone, but with a tender side that hadn’t yet been beaten down. They credited that remarkable attribute to Finn.

“Most of us,” the black woman, who introduced herself as Opal, said, “have never had much luck with men. I mean, they’re fine if you’re looking for one thing and don’t mind that they’re going to walk out without a word afterwards. That’s a fact of life. Selene got lucky, but the child didn’t know it. Finn was a father, a best friend, and a protector to her. The stupid girl took it for granted. She was always getting herself in trouble and expecting Finn to get her out of it. He didn’t seem to mind, I guess. Maybe he was just waiting for her to grow up.”

“Did he ever get jealous?” Julia asked.

Opal shook her head. “Selene was always interested in the bad boys, but as soon as they started acting the way they were raised to act, she would run home to Finn. He was always there for her, too.”

“Why did he stick around if she encouraged trouble?” Julia asked, puzzled by the relationship.

“He loved her. Plain and simple,” replied Opal. “But also, I think he felt bad about his own daughter.”

“His own daughter?”

“Sure. Finn has a wife and child out there somewhere. The wife took off on him shortly after he started in this business. I don’t believe he’s seen his daughter since.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Four years, going on five.”

Julia paused, knowing she was getting off track. Finn’s past had nothing to do with the present.

“Do you know of anyone who would want to kill Selene?” she asked.

All the women shook their heads.

“Every night we perform in front of a crowd of drunken losers,” said Opal. “Hell, it could have been anybody.”

“What about Percy. Would he have any motive to want rid of her?” Julia glanced at the two-way mirror.

Opal laughed.

“He doesn’t have the balls. Besides, he would hate to see a body like Selene’s go to waste while it was still bringing in money.”

“Why do you put up with him?”

“We need the work and he pays well,” Opal replied. “If he wants to touch, he pays more. We can handle that. It’s the ones who don’t want to pay that cause all the problems.”

Julia had a difficult time accepting the lifestyle. It was ugly and brutal, yet these women faced it with wide-eyed honesty.

“Don’t look so shocked, honey,” Opal said. “If you haven’t been a victim of sexual harassment, you’re not paying attention.”