Chapter 3

That Saturday went by pretty fast after Ms. Silva left my loft. The last request that she made was that I started right away, and so that's what I did. I started packing up everything that I'd need, took the night off for good rest and got an early start at eight the next morning.

I wasn't working with much, but I was a professional. I had her name, a detailed description, a general area, and the types of places that she might be found. Good enough for me. The less information that I had, the longer it'd take to find the dame.

All of that having been established, I carried the final bag of gear down the stairs, through my office, outside, and to my car that sat in an alleyway in between buildings. A red, 1990 rodeo, complete with hail damage, a few scratches, and occasional dents. It was a beauty.

I opened the back and through the bag on top of my other stuff. I had a bag full of different types of clothes for all occasions, a separate bag for my goodies like cameras, tape recorders, binoculars, and note pads, and then another bag with the mandatory Coca-Cola, Heath bars, and a six pack of beer. Can't live without them.

With all my bags ready to go there wasn't anything else to do but put the "Closed" sign up on the door. On my way back to the door I checked my side to make sure that my gun holster was on and the 9-mill still there. Sure enough, the trusty weapon was still there with the safety still on. Never hurts to double-check though.

I locked the doors and made my way back to the rodeo. And the case had begun.

It took me about an hour to get to the neighborhood that Nicole had mentioned first. It was a high class, art district full of clubs, restaurants, up scale bars, and your occasional condo complex. I stood out like a sore thumb. My suit was ironed today, and I actually had a black jacket on over it, but money can sense money, and they can also sense people like me.

Eyes from every direction looked over the rodeo with disapproval. It was an odd feeling to have that many people looking at me for being different. I hadn't felt like that in years...

I pulled into a parking space, noticing that there weren't any without meters. I got out of the car and found no need to lock the doors, but it couldn't hurt. I made my way around the car and put in four hours worth, which was the maximum. I could tell that I was going to spend quite a bit of money trying to make a great deal of money. Okay by me.

I looked across the street at a jazz club called The Blue Cat Java. Java equaled coffee and coffee equaled and addiction of mine, so it looked like a good place to start.

I crossed the street, still gathering looks as I made my way to the opposite sidewalk. The club smelled of smoke and the sounds coming from it were that of people that just stopped by for lunch. The place itself seemed like me in the sense that we both didn't belong there. The idea of a jazz club probably seemed appealing to the locals until they realized that it would draw in a diverse crowd.

I opened the doors and the light jazz music in the background and the strong smell of smoke made the street seem more real somehow. Made it seem more down to Earth.

The layout was simple. There was a bar far back in the club that seemed to be shut down for the time moment, a stage that sat opposite the door I'd just come in, and a bunch of tables scattered through out. The colors were all cool, with blues, greens, and purples, and there was something almost dream like about the place. Almost like being on a drug.

I walked to one of the tables that didn't have anyone eating and sat down. I was guessing that I could sit anywhere I wanted being that there wasn't anyone at the door.

A few moments later a rather large, black man walked out of a door that was hidden off behind the bar somewhere. He made his way over to me in an awkward manner. He wasn't fat, but he wasn't exactly a body builder either. He was just big. He was so big in fact that it almost looked uncomfortable to walk for him.

He got to me and stood over me like a tree with legs, arms, and a note pad.

"What can I get ya today?" His tone was friendly, but it went against his appearance. You couldn't help but think that this guy was mean, tenacious, and an all around bad ass.

"I'd like a black coffee and some help with something if you don't mind", I said.

He nodded to me, jotted down the order and looked back at me with patient eyes.

"I'm looking for a girl, heard she might come in here from time to time."

"Lots of girls come in here; I'd need to see a picture."

Well I knew that'd come up eventually. It's hard to get a positive I.D. on someone if you don't have a picture.

"Well I don't have a picture, but I can tell you what she looks like and her name." It was the best I could do because that was all I had to work with. The man just kept looking at me. "She has short, black hair, she's Asian, athletic, about five six, and her name's Ada." Crossing my fingers, I waited for a response.

"Yeah, I know the girl, but her name isn't Ada. You're talking about Isabel."

Well the man seemed certain that my description fit a girl named Isabel, so it seemed like something worth checking out.

"When does she usually come by here?"

"She'll be here tonight. Sunday night is when she usually comes in here and talks with a few men, has a few drinks, and then leaves alone."

"Alone every time?"

He nodded.

"All right, thanks for the help. Now, you got a john?"

He pointed back in the direction that he'd come from, back behind the bar.

I stood up from my table, watched the man hit a few more tables, and walked to the bathroom. I pushed through the door that had the picture of a man on it and went in. The room had about ten stalls and five urinals.

I walked over to the farthest urinal from the door, undid my fly and started doing my thing. I was alone in the room, which is how I liked it. Not to say that I get bladder shy, I just don't like touching myself while others are in the same room doing the same thing. Gives me the creeps.

That was about the time the door opened and closed. I didn't look away from the wall before me; I just heard the door and the footsteps.

I wouldn't have thought anything of it had it not been for how close the steps were coming. There were four empty urinals, but this guy was picking the closest one to me? I doubted it, but stranger things have happened. Just to be on the safe side I zipped up quietly and acted as if I were still pissing.

I turned my head just slightly and looked out of the corner of my eye at the man that was still walking in my direction. He wasn't looking at any of the stalls or urinals. His attention was for me only. Maybe he was upset that I could be so rude and park a trashy car in his neighborhood, but I didn't think so.

I kept him in the corner of my eye right up to the point that he reached down for something. That was all it took to make me not feel safe anymore. Fighting was one thing, but when weapons get involved is when it gets serious.

I spun around to face him just in time to see the light reflect off of a blade. The man was about my size in height and muscle wise, but he seemed to want to show off. He wore a tight black shirt that tucked into his black pants. His dark hair was slicked back and he had a small scar just about his lip. It's amazing how I can take all of these things in while at the same time focusing on the blade of that knife.

I turned my back to him, pulled my leg up and shot it out in a sidekick to his solar plexus. I felt the heel of my foot catch him on the rib and the wet cracking below the skin.

By this time I had my body back and facing him as he tumbled back to the ground, but the knife stayed secure in his hand. I knew right then and there that he was going to be a tough one to take down. If you can crack a rib and still maintain enough control to hold onto something as thin as a knife, you deserved the title of hard ass.

It wasn't long before he was up to his feet again, though he was a little hunched over now. He looked at me with furious eyes that screamed at me silently. I'd succeeded in pissing him off, now let's see if I could finish the job.

He lunged out at me again with the knife out before him. Not much else I could do but use his weight against him. I sort of side stepped and jumped to the side while grabbing his wrist that held the knife, pushing him even faster towards the open stall that he was headed to. With no control over his actions, he flew through the opening, over the toilet and into the wall, and first. Another bone broke as I heard the sound of cracking from his wrist. No more holding the knife for him.

He yelled out a bit as his attention when to the shattered bone that had come through the skin on the top. While his back was still to me I gave me my strongest round kick to the upper back, sending his head into the same wall that had cracked his bone. It wasn't powerful enough to kill him, but he wouldn't be getting up for a while.

He slowly slid down the wall, leaving a line of blood as he went until he finally ended in a resting position on the toilet.

Now thoughts went through my head about what could have possibly triggered such a violent attack. Reaching for air and trying to calm down, I thought about all the possibilities. Could be a man that I'd exposed to his wife as a cheater. Well, that couldn't be it because I'd never worked in this part of the city. The only thing that I could come up with was the new case that I'd just taken. One mention of Ada and I already had a murder attempt. What had I gotten myself into?

Now, for most people this would be good enough reason to retreat back to their homes and call in quits, which is the reason that most people don't become private detectives. Private eyes are a different breed all together. Most of us got in this job for the simple reason that we are the most curious people in the world, and that leads us here. So getting a murder attempt at the mention of this woman's name just made me more curious to find out just what it is about her that could make someone pay two-thousand a day and a ten-thousand bonus.

So Ada Wong might be harder to figure out than I first thought, but that didn't mean that I wouldn't be returning to The Blue Cat Java that night.