Page 20 of Caroled
“Take your lunch, Bertha,” her boss called from behind the counter. He looked worried, as well he might. Clumsiness on her part was unheard of, at least in Charles’s experience. But she had seemed distracted today.
And now she looked so distressed that Charles waved her over. “Come sit with us if you like. I’ll buy you a hamburger.” Tenrael returned to the booth and scooted all the way in so as to make room for her.
“Thanks,” she said with a heavy sigh after sitting down. “But I’m not hungry.”
“Coffee?”
She shook her head. “Nah. It’s good to be off my feet for a few minutes, though.”
“You’ve been busy.”
She took a pack of cigarettes from her apron, shook one out, and struck a match. Charles slid the ashtray closer to her. “I like when it’s busy. Time goes faster and I make more tips. I’m just a little worried today, is all.” She winced as she exhaled a cloud of smoke.
“What’s wrong?” Charles asked.
“This ain’t really your kinda business, I don’t think, but the cops won’t do anything and we can’t afford a private dick.”
Charles finished his pie and pushed the plate aside. He had a cup of fruit cocktail, the kind with chunks of maraschino cherries, but it could wait. “Tell us. I can’t guarantee we can help, but at least we can listen.”
Despite his disclaimer, relief lightened her expression. “It’s my sister’s younger boy, Robbie. He just turned eighteen, so they’re gonna draft him any day now. I told him he oughtta tell the army he’s queer—’cause he is—and that’s hard enough, but it’s better than getting shot at in France or on some god-awful island in the middle of the Pacific. He doesn’t wanna listen though.”
“That’s a difficult decision for such a young person to make.”
“He ain’t too young for the army, though.” She stubbed out her cigarette. “Anyhow, he’s been out carousing since his birthday. Says he wants to get his fun in while he can, and I guess I don’t blame him. But he didn’t come home two nights ago, and we ain’t seen him since.”
Charles and Tenrael exchanged quick looks, but Charles kept his expression neutral. “He could very well be sleeping off a binge somewhere.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s what the cops said. Or, they said, maybe he got cold feet over enlisting and ran off. Our Robbie wouldn’t do that, though. He’s a good boy. But they won’t even look for him.” She sighed long and loud. “I’m sorry, boys. I know this ain’t your business. You have your own fish to fry.” She slid out of the booth, but Charles gently caught her wrist.
“It’s almost certainly not our jurisdiction, but that doesn’t mean we can’t ask around a little. Maybe poke a few people into action.”
Her answering smile was warm. “Thank you. Now, lemme get you another slice of that pie.”
* * *
Tenrael grinned at Charles as they left Bianchi’s. “We are not going to the pictures tonight, are we?”
“Do you mind?”
“No. I would rather watch you in action.”
That made Charles snort. “I doubt there will be much action involved. But I am worried about the number of young men who’ve gone missing lately. I suppose the military authorities may be investigating, but let’s see what the SFPD has to say.”
The tobacco shop one block over contained a phone booth, and Charles decided to use that rather than walk back to the St. Francis to place a call. While he waited to be put through to Detective Collins, Tenrael wandered the store, gazing curiously at the magazine covers and cigarette displays. The shopkeeper, a grizzled man with one arm missing at the elbow, watched him balefully.
“Collins.” The voice was tinny over the phone line.
“This is Grimes. I’m with the Bureau of Trans-Species Affairs.” No need for this fellow to know that Charles was doing contract work rather than working as a regular agent. “I have a matter to discuss with you.”
“Shit.” The response was both heartfelt and resigned. “Yeah, okay. Meet me in an hour at Vic’s Club.” Collins hung up without another word.
Charles checked the phone book and found that the bar was in the Tenderloin, on Geary. That was a couple of miles from their current location, but they had plenty of time and he could use some exercise, so they might as well walk. He pried Tenrael away from a glass case full of shiny cigarette lighters and, with the shopkeeper still glaring, they exited onto the street.
“Nights are so much more colorful now.” Tenrael gestured at the neon signs. “But noisier. Busier.”
“Did you like them better when they were dark and quiet?”
“I do not have a preference. Change is interesting, though. And everything changes much faster now than it used to.”
