Chapter Two

Shortly after Gwen left I started to compile a list of all of Tombstone's known contacts, but I soon realized the city would run out of ink before I could jot them all down. Seemed like just about every Dick and Jane with a dream had crossed paths with Tombstone at some point. It wasn't a dead end as much as it was a flood of information too soupy to make sense of.

There had to be someone who knew more about what exactly Peter Parker owed Tombstone and why he was taken out before clearing his debt. Tombstone was known to kill people to incite fear, but not in public. Too sloppy, too forward, no finesse. Tombstone was a thug but he knew the score and he knew the police wouldn't turn a blind eye to any blatant malice. There had to be more to the story, perhaps more than what Gwen was telling me. But I tabled that train of thought for another time. For now I was going to have to take everything at face value.

My stomach growled, that grapefruit hadn't been enough to feed a bird let alone me. Thankfully the upfront fee from Ms. Stacy was more than enough for a full meal from Weng's. It was a short walk and they didn't close for another hour, perfect time to go.

Grabbing my tan trenchcoat and hat I stepped out, my footsteps clattering against the wood and steel of my apartment complex. As if the constant flashes of neon weren't enough if anyone moved fast enough down these metal stairs you could hear them all the way down the hall. Even with the door closed you could make out their muffled steps. It was a sort of white noise at this point, but a daily reminder that I was still some cheap private eye taking any desperate case that came across my desk. I couldn't pretend my motives were altruistic for most situations. I had done enough heroism for myself and half the block over in the European theater. And came back home to a world where my cousin could get his jaw busted in for drinking out of the wrong fountain. Money couldn't fix that of course, but I had this faint belief that at the very least if I could be stuffed enough to buy a fountain of my own.

Making my way to Weng's I got noodles and pork with a bowl of hot egg soup. The restaurant was pretty slow tonight, and Mrs. Weng gave me a nice smile. This was the first place I had gotten food from when I moved into the neighborhood. A quaint shop that used it's small size to always appear crowded, and that had attracted everyone to visit to find out "what they were missing out on." The plan had worked perfectly and it was nights like this I realized just how small but effective of an operation than ran.

I hadn't come to this park of Brooklyn just for my health, I needed to make a stop. See an old friend who could have just the info I needed to get this case started. Leaving a generous tip I shuffled out and into the cold night air, walking about a block down I reached a my destination. A psychic parlor with a big green neon sign out front with a big eye inside a yellow palm.

I didn't believe in psychics, or astrology or even lucky numbers. I wasn't even confident in the whole God thing, but I knew every gambler had to answer to something, something they felt that had a connection to. A patron Saint, a lucky penny a sign from the universe that they were destined to win. They were usually wrong, but for all I knew that was just because God hated gamblers.

Stepping into the little hut disguised as a shop I took in the room. Dark red, almost like dried blood, with wood and tan accents. An arched window in the back looked out into an alley with several potted plants on the windowsill. The room smelled of spices and incense. There were little trinkets, statues and dishes with talismans in them.

"We're closed" said the voice coming from the back. It was of a young woman with a thick Chinese accent. I leaned myself against a pillar waiting for her to come from around the corner. When Penni finally did she was carrying with her a tea mug which she sipped out of. She was in a full stereotypical-dare I say racist out. It looked akin to something you'd see out of a terrible Dr. Fu Manchu novel. Penni smiled when she saw me. "Miles! You want future read? Yes?"

There was a brief pause and then we both broke out into laughter. Penni dropped her fake accent and her true hard Brooklyn accent came back on like a light switch. "Hey, close those blinds will ya'? I don't want anyone to see me out of this fucking robe." I obeyed and closed the blinds while Penni took off her robe revealing herself in long johns and a thick sweater.

"How was your day Penni?" I asked with a smirk. Penni sighed and sipped from her tea mug once more.

"Eh, same as usual. Geez ya' wouldn't believe how much people will pay just for me to tell them what they wanna hear? This guy came in, with a ring. I mean a big fucking ring Miles! Thing could light up Times Square and be seen all the way in Yonkers. And this guy, get a load of this, this guy wants to ask...do ya' think she'll say yes?" Penni chuckled "Like with a rock that big she better get down and blow and then wet her whistle with your pecker tracks." I couldn't help but laugh at the visual. "I mean I'm serious Miles, I didn't say that of course 'cause whatdoIknow I'm jus' the broad yer' paying money for your honeymoon for me to say some silly shit."

"Silly shit? Ah come on now, what you do is not silly. It's dishonest. But far from silly" I laughed as I pulled up a chair near her.

"Fair enough. But ya' know what I mean. So I gotta act all dumb and mystical and shit. Ugh, he was so annoying! Like he just wanted to know everything. Eventually I had to say…" Penni put on her best Chinese accent "Future cloudy. You love. That's enough. Spirits are tired!" Penni said it as a joke but she was too tired to really embrace it's comedy. "Every fucking day with this shit Miles. Every day."

"You should become an actress. You're just as good as Barbara Stanwyck, and she never had to deal with some joker while she was doing a set."

"You flatter me Miles, but they ain't gonna give a woman like me a part in the movie unless she's bowing to some white man in a cheap suit. No thank you. Fuckin Luise Rainer, I have half the mind to smack the the pink off her cherry ass!" Penni calmed herself and then turned to me "Anyway enough of that, what can I do ya' for Miles? Want some giggle-smokes?"

"Have to stay straight for now Penni. I'm working a case."

"Suit yourself" she said as she opened up a shelled out book of pre-rolled cigs and lit herself a puff.

"I actually need your help. I'm looking for someone. A dead man. But I need to know if you ever crossed paths with him" I said as I pushed the lone photo Gwen had given me to showcase. Penni studied it with her free hand and then handed it back to me.

"Yeah I've seen the man, he came in here a few times actually. Bastard wanted to see who was gonna win, place and show in a couple of races. Apparently I had gotten them all right the week prior. Can ya' believe that luck? I'm in the wrong business!"

"You never win when you're betting on yourself."

"Ain't that the truth. Anyway last time I saw him he definitely looked to be in dire straits. Like he had been spooked by something."

"Did he mention his wife?"

"No. Is she yer' client?" Penni leaned in her eyes narrowing at me, she knew me too well. She knew something was up. It only took a moment and as best as I tried to mask it she saw right through my facade.

"Ya' trying to get' yer mitts on her eh? Don't let the Micks find out."

I scoffed, Penni was right, but I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. "Give me a little credit, I'm not going fishing." Penni's face contorted to let me know she didn't buy it but was willing to drop it. "So here's the skinny, I need to find out where this guy hung out. Sniff around and see if anyone knows anything about him. His wife didn't seem to know or didn't want to tell me. Still figuring it out. Got any leads?"

"I don't speak on my clients' personal business. What kinda lady do ya' think I am Miles? I have ethics! Standards!"

I passed her a Washington. She didn't even blink "Come now Miles, a bribe? What about my client's right to privacy?"

"An honest Abe can make you make a dishonest woman" I breathed as I slammed a five spot right on the table. Taking it she stuffed it down her bra.

"Dead Presidents, they've seen it all."

Penni got up without saying another word and made her way into her humble kitchen. She pulled up a drawer and shifted through for a moment. Never putting down her blue sage. When she returned she had in her hand a matchbook. I examined it "The Grey Whale" it read.

"It's some trashy pub down by the docks. Filled with Brits and anchor clankers. They don't let guys like you in unless you're providing the jive with a sax. So be careful if ya' go down there."

It was better than nothing. I had never been to the Grey Whale but based on Penni's description I may have had good reason. "Thanks Penni. I'll catch you around."

"Don't be a stranger Detective Morales" she cooed as she took a long puff of reefer. I smiled back at her and tipped my hat as I made my way outside and towards the Gray Whale. Perhaps someone there could tell me what really happened to our mysterious Mr. Parker.

TO BE CONTINUED….