The house was like every other one on the street. It sat on a narrow lot with a small front yard. The Mazda was parked at an angle to the front steps that led to a porch that ran the width of the house. The green paint was peeling, and the roof had been patched with different colored shingles. Two window air-conditioning units jutted from the side of the house. Probably the bedroom and living room. A streetlight sat at the front edge of the property, giving me enough light to see the house clearly.
I climbed the three steps and knocked on the door. I had my. 38 in my hand.
"Who's there?" The flinty voice of a heavy smoker.
"Key West Fire Department, Mr. McAllister," I said. "We've got a gas leak in the area and need to check your house."
The door flew open. Grill was standing there barefoot, shirt gone, wearing just the cutoffs. He had a beer in his hand.
"I ain't got no gas service here," he said. Then, realizing I wasn't the fire department, "Who the fuck are you?"
"People keep asking me that," I said, holding the pistol up so that lie could see it. "Invite me in."
He stepped back from the door, raising his hands. "Be cool, my man."
"Put your hands down," I said, and walked into the house.
He backed up, keeping his eyes on me. We were in the middle of a small, sparsely furnished room. An old easy chair sat in the corner, stuffing coming out of tears in the fabric. A sofa took up one wall, a bedspread thrown haphazardly across it. A small black-and-white TV rested on a scarred table, rabbit ears drawing in a game show. The sound was turned low. The window air-conditioning unit chugged cool air into the space and made a noise like a deranged elephant.
A door led off the living room into a hallway. I knew the layout of these houses. There would be a kitchen off one side of the hall, a bedroom on the other. At the end would be a bathroom. A door at the rear of the kitchen would lead to the back yard.
The house was quiet, except for the noise from the air conditioner and Crill's heavy breathing.
I waved the gun at him. "Anybody else here?"
"No."
"If anybody comes through one of those doors, I'll shoot you."
"Nobody's here, man. Honest."
"Where is Charlie Calhoun?"
"Charlie who?"
I raised the gun, pointing it at his face. "You can do better than that."
"Okay, okay. I don't know where he is. I see him sometimes at a bar I go to."
"The Mango," I said.
"Yeah."
"Why were you chasing Peggy Timmons yesterday?"
"Who?"
"Look, dickwad, either you start talking straight to me or I'm going to start shooting you in the foot" I aimed the gun at his dirty feet.
"Okay. That the girl at the Sharkstooth?"
"Right."
"I don't know. I was drinking with Charlie at the Mango when he got a call on his cell. He offered me a hundred bucks to go with him to get the girl."
"How did you know she was at the Sharkstooth?"
"We didn't. Whoever Charlie talked to said she was walking down Benefit Street. We went over there and saw her just as she ducked into the bar."
"What happened?"
"She went out the back door and we caught her just down the alley. Charlie put her in his car and took off. I had to hitch a ride back to the Mango to get my car."
"Did you hurt her?"
"No. She scratched the shit out of Charlie's face, though."
Good for her, I thought.
"Did you get your hundred?" I asked.
"He said he'd give it to me the next time he saw me."
I put a round into the floor between his feet. The gun made a popping sound, not loud at all. I doubted anyone in this neighborhood was likely to call the police because of a random gunshot. He jumped back, yelling in surprise. "What the hell?"
"Oops. I missed," I said, taking aim again.
"Hold on, mister. I'm telling you the truth." His voice had taken on a plaintive quality, begging, not the big man who chased a scared teenaged girl down an alley.
"I believe you," I said. "I'm going to ask you some more questions and if you lie to me I'll know it. I damn sure won't miss next time."
"Okay, okay."
"Who does Charlie work for?"
"I don't know his name. He's got a lot of money and lives out on Blood Island. He owns a massage parlor here."
"Where is Blood Island?"
"Down in the Mule Keys. He owns the whole island."
"Tell me about his massage parlor."
"It's over off Simonton. Near the Key West Bight. It's called The Heaven Can't Wait Spa."
"Crill, we never had this conversation. When I find Charlie, I'll know if you told him I was looking for him. If you do, I'll find you and kill you. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes."
"Just forget about this evening and you'll have a longer life."
"I hear you. I never saw you."
I turned and walked out into the night.