The Boom Room by Rick Blechta Page B

intervals, making it clear they didn’t want to be overheard. As the conversation went on, Margerie looked less and less happy. Ellis smacked himself upside the head. Too bad he couldn’t hear what they were saying to each other.
    He was watching them pay their bill (separate checks, interestingly) when his cell phone rang.
    It was Pratt, finally.
    â€œSo you’ve gotten some action on that bulletin you put out? That was quick.”
    â€œProblem is, the guy will only talk to you, since I put your name on the bulletin. I didn’t think it was, um, smart to impersonate you.”
    â€œVery wise. Where are you right now?”
    â€œIn my car watching Thomson and Lewis preparing to leave Gill Maloney’s Bar and Grill.”
    Pratt chuckled. “Looks as if my poking around lit a fire under them. When the cops start asking questions of friends or employees, it usually does. You got photos, of course?”
    â€œNatch. Want me to follow one of them? They seem to be going in separate directions.”
    â€œNo need. I just wanted evidence of them having lied to me about how well they know each other. I can reel them in at my leisure now.”
    â€œI got a good shot of them holding hands. But she was looking pretty unhappy by the end of the conversation.”
    â€œGreat! I knew I could count on you.”
    Ellis cut to the chase. “We need to get together. You have to call this guy back. I’m dying to find out what he knows about Master. Where are you right now?”
    â€œStanding outside The Boom Room. My phone’s battery needed charging. I borrowed a uniform’s cell to call you.”
    â€œI’m about fifteen minutes away. I’ll buzz over and pick you up.”
    â€œWe’re getting close on this one, David. I can feel it.”

Chapter Seventeen
    Ellis set his phone to Speaker and passed it to his partner.
    â€œDetective Sergeant Merv Pratt calling. You called me earlier.”
    â€œAh, yes, Pratt. Your bulletin was passed on to me. I think I know your boy. What’s he done this time?”
    â€œFirst of all, please tell me about yourself. I like to know who I’m talking with.”
    â€œSheriff Martin Warsh. The person in your photographs appears to be Desmond Nolen, although he didn’t have long hair and that stupid goatee and mustache when I knew him. Used to be clean-cut.”
    â€œAnd how do you know him?”
    â€œWe suspect him of killing a young woman. We could never pin anything on him though. He’s a slippery one.”
    â€œWhoa, whoa. You’re starting at the end. I need to know the beginning and the middle.”
    â€œI have the whole thing written up, along with the wanted bulletin. I can fax you everything.”
    â€œI’d really appreciate that, Sheriff.”
    â€œSo why are you boys interested in Nolen?”
    â€œIt could be murder. Fax me those notes. I’ll go through them and call you back. Okay?”
    â€œSuits me fine. I’ll be waiting.”
    â€œHow fast can you get me to headquarters?” Pratt asked after the call ended. “I want to be there when that fax arrives. I don’t want Gordon getting hold of it first.”
    â€œFrom here, eight minutes if you think I should break a few laws.”
    â€œBreak a few laws.”
    As they muscled their way through the downtown traffic, Pratt and Ellis discussed what the order of things should be.
    â€œYou should get Gordon to follow up on the Thomson-Lewis angle,” Ellis said. “That way you and I can focus on Master.”
    Pratt was silent for a couple of minutes. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t be involved, David, but we need to tread carefully here. You can’t be seen to be involved. It’s tricky.”
    â€œHow do we explain the photos I took then? You can’t say you took them. You were down at The Boom Room when Thomson met Lewis.”
    â€œHmm…Let me think about