Race (20 page)

I forgot my glass and headed in the direction she’d gone.
  
There were too many people and searching for her was like trying to find a toothpick in a stack of toothpicks.
 
I thought of the Find-a-Friend.
  
I went to the machine but changed my mind when I saw two huge guys with cut-off tank tops, which by the way revealed well muscled arms, standing in front of the machine having a good time.
 
I didn’t want to disturb them.
 
That wouldn’t be polite.
 
I went back to my chair.
 

As I got near I saw a white kid with shaggy hair sitting on my chair.
 

“That’s my glass,” I said pointing to a half-empty glass perched on the rail.
 

“Sorry,” the kid apologized.
  
“I didn’t know someone was sitting here.”

“That’s okay,” I leaned over to retrieve my drink.
 

The guy next to us suddenly got up and left.
 
I think DJ
Krash
was playing his music.
 
I took the empty seat and turned to the kid.

“Hey, I’m Jeff,” the kid said, offering his hand.

***

“If what you’re saying is true,” Cal said.
 
“Then this new drug will be huge.”

“Very,” Ms. Zee reiterated.

“Then I would like a piece of the profit.”

Ms. Zee was taken back a little.
 
In their previous meetings he was ardently against them opening shop in his establishment.
 
“Why the sudden change of heart?”

“I cannot completely stop drugs from entering my club.
 
If I join you I can control exactly what gets in and what gets out.”
 
This sounded like perfect business.
 
“On top of that, I can make some money.”

Ms. Zee seemed pleased.
 
“How much are we talking about?”

“Fifty-fifty,” Cal said.
 

“No,” Ms. Zee was a good negotiator.
 
“Thirty-Seventy.”

“Fifty-fifty.
 
House of Jam is
the
place to be in Toronto—fifty-fifty it is.”

“Thirty-five-sixty-five.”

“No. In my place you’ll have more returning clients than anywhere else.”

“Forty-sixty.”
 

“Also,” Cal leaned for his final kill.
 
“If I get raided I’ll lose everything.”

“All right. Fifty-fifty,” she said.
 
House of Jam was
the
place to start a venture.
 
It was also good business, considering she did not have the drug yet.

***

“I’m Jon
Rupret
,” I shook his hand.
 
“R before E.”

He thought about it, “Not Rupert but
Rupret
.
 
Interesting.”
 
He moved his head up and down.
 

“You got it.” I took a sip of my drink.

“Hey, wait a minute.” He narrowed his eyes as if he was trying to locate something in his head.
 
“Aren’t you the guy who messed up the drug squad investigation last year?”

I couldn’t believe he recognized me.
 

“Yeah, you are that guy,” he concluded.

I hung my head and took another sip.
 

“Don’t worry,” he said.
 
“I would have done the same thing.
 
You did your job.”

“I did,” I said.
 
“So you come here often?” I asked.

“
Naw
, whenever I get the chance.
 
How about you?”

“First time.”

“Wow, you don’t get out much.”

“Working.”

“You still in the police force?”

“Yep, they couldn’t get rid of me that easily.”

“In parking?”

“Nope.
 
Got transferred.” I took a sip. “What do you do?”

“I just graduated.”
  

“In what?”

“Pharmaceutical Chemistry.”

***

“We’ll return with the drug,” said Ms. Zee.
 
She turned to Kong.
 
“Get
Suraj
and Joey.
 
We’re leaving.”

Kong went through the narrow hall and into the club.
  
The music was loud and it hit him hard.
 
He winced.
 
There were too many people—moving, talking, laughing, yelling—it was all too much for him.
 
He grunted.
 

Kong pushed through the throng of people—actually, they moved away as he passed them.
  
He was too big and no one wanted to mess with him.
 
He bumped into a guy holding two full glasses filled with
coloured
liquid that spilled onto the guy’s nice shirt.
 
The guy apologized and quietly walked away.
 

Kong found
Suraj
standing at the bottom of the left staircase.
 
Suraj
looked bored and annoyed.
 
He would rather be anywhere but here.
 

Suraj
looked up and they both made eye contact.
  
Suraj
understood.
 

***

Barnes was chatting up a couple of girls in the mezzanine lounge when he squinted and moved his head to get a better view.
 
Through the group of pool players he saw someone he recognized.
 
Or thought he recognized.
 
This guy had just come out of the narrow hall.
 
His bald head was clearly visible, but from this angle Barnes could not see his face.

Barnes dialed a number and waited.
  
“Come on,” Barnes said.
 
“Come on.” A few more rings later
Rupret
answered.
 

“Come upstairs. I think I see someone,” Barnes yelled into the phone.
 

“What?” Barnes heard
Rupret
say.

“Come upstairs, now,” Barnes repeated.

“You have to speak louder. I can’t make you out,”
Rupret
said.
 
“Why don’t I come upstairs?”

Barnes looked and the bald-headed man had disappeared.
  
Barnes hung up and went in the direction where he had last seen the man.
 

***

“Wow, pharmaceutical chemistry,” I repeated.
 
“What do you learn to do? Make drugs?”
 
I laughed.

He laughed too.
 
“Yeah, drugs.”

My cell phone vibrated.
 

“Excuse me,” I said.
 
“Hello.”

It was Barnes.

“Come…(inaudible)…I think…(inaudible)…someone…” I couldn’t clearly make out what he was saying.
 
I even had one finger shoved in my other ear.
 
I guess I was too close to the stage.
  

“What?” I said.

“Come…(inaudible)…now.”

“You have to speak louder.
 
I can’t make you out,” I said.
 
I was not going to understand him through the cell phone.
 
“Why don’t I come upstairs?”
 
He hung up.
 

 
I turned to Jeff, “I
gotta
go, man.”

“Me, too,” he said, looking at his pager.

“Nice talking to you,” I said.

“See you around,” I heard him say as I hurried up the flight of stairs.

***

Barnes moved past the bar and was standing in the middle of the floor.
 
Where did he go?
 
He looked around.
 
Was he dreaming?
 
He wasn’t sure what, but there was something familiar about this man.
 
He just couldn’t put a finger on what.

He spotted the bald-headed man looking down at the corner of the left staircase.
 
Still he couldn’t see his face.
 
Barnes pushed and shoved past several patrons and made his way to the stairs.
 
The man was not there.
 
He looked down.
 
He was not on the ground floor either.
  
Barnes knew the bald-headed man could not be on the mezzanine level.
 
He could only have gone down.

Barnes rushed down, skipping several steps.
 
There were too many people.
 
The lights were low and only when the strobes of beams dropped down onto the dancers could Barnes make out faces.
  

He decided to push forward.
 
Go to the front of the club, near the stage.

***

On the mezzanine level I searched around.
 
Barnes was not at the lounge.
 
I moved further scanning each face.
 
No Barnes.
 
There was no way I could ask someone if they’d seen Barnes.
 
How would I describe him?
 
He’s tall, young and white.
 
Right
.
 
That would narrow it.
 

I passed the soda bar and went to the left side of the floor.
 
No sign of him.
 
The Find-a-Friend machine was vacant.
 
I hurried and grabbed the joystick.

My excitement fell as I realized this machine was just for the mezzanine level.
 
I had already searched that level.
 

I pulled out my cell and dialed his number again.
     

***

Barnes passed a line of people who were eagerly waiting to dance on the mini stage.
 
It was one of those interactive zones that he’d seen on TV.
 
This one had the dancer’s body heat projected onto the screen.
 

Barnes went forward and something caught his eye.
 
A door to the left was a little ajar.
 
A stream of light appeared from the opening.
 
Something inside him said to check it out.
 
It would be impossible to search through the entire dance floor.
 
So there was no harm in this.

Barnes didn’t have a gun.
 
He didn’t need a gun.
 
He was only there to check the place out.
 

He pushed the heavy door slightly and peered inside.
 
There was a dark hallway with a door to the right.
 
There was another door at the end of the hall.
 
Barnes entered and, feeling along the wall for guidance, moved down the hall toward that door. He stopped when he realized there was a figure standing in front of that door.