Pigeon Blood
CHAPTER EIGHT: Another Heart-To-Heart
Mercedes worked at a pet shop in the middle of the city. It was easy for Blair to track her down, but only because he’d happened by the store once or twice in the past and had discovered her behind the register. That was fortunate since mission volunteers rarely gave their last names or any personal information about themselves, especially the women.
Blair slipped inside the store, trying to act interested in the boa constrictors in glass cages by the door. Some of the workers observed him cautiously, as if he were about to steal something.
A young man came over to him slowly, albeit smiling courteously. “May I help you, sir?”
“I’m looking for Mercedes,” Blair said, wiping his lips with the back of his trembling hand. It seemed like eons since he’d last had a drink.
“May I ask your name?”
“It’s Blair Vaughn.”
The fellow didn’t budge right away. He stared at Blair, as if trying to decide what to do. “All right,” he finally said. “I’ll see if she’s available.”
“Thanks.”
The boy walked off, stopped to say something to another man stocking shelves, and then went into a back room. The man putting sacks of cat litter on the shelves had already been gawking at Blair even before being alerted.
Mercedes came out from the back room ahead of the boy. She was looking very upset to see him there. Still, she managed a smile, making her proud chin, high cheekbones, and full lips seem merry. “How did you know I worked here?” she asked when she got close enough to talk.
“I did a little detective work,” Blair said, stuffing his hands inside his pockets and feeling unusually awkward. “Look, do you have a minute? What I have to say won’t take long.”
“Another heart-to-heart,” she said, and that made him take notice.
“The last time we spoke, I sort of blocked out most of the conversation,” he explained.
“I must have been boring!”
“No, no. That entire night’s a blur. With your help, I’d like to remember the conversation.”
“All right. We could talk in the storage room.”
“Great. Lead the way.”
She took him into the back. The room was very neat and orderly, but cigarette smoke hovered in the air like a dense fog. Several cages were stacked one on top of the other against two of the walls. They were occupied by puppies and kittens, and the animals were alert and lively despite their cramped quarters.
A bright green lizard was also there in a makeshift aquarium cage. From its nose to the tip of its tail, it had to have been at least twenty-four inches long. The creature had everything it needed: a hot rock, a large bowl of agitated water, and an incandescent and a fluorescent light. Blair stared at the lizard for a moment, tapping the glass to see if he could get it to move. It moved all right, cocking its head to one side and raising its eyes enough to give Blair a good look.
“That’s Sally,” Mercedes said, smiling.
“Sally,” Blair repeated, tapping the glass again. “What does she eat?”
“Fingertips,” Mercedes told him, and he took his hand away and looked at her. “I’m just kidding.”
There was a soda machine in one corner, with a couple of vending machines full of snacks on either side of it. Next to them was a time clock with about fifteen timecards in slots around it. Mercedes had been right; the room was a good place to talk.
“So, what would you like to know?” she asked.
“You gave me a twenty dollar bill.”
“That’s right, only I didn’t mean to offend you.”
He smiled a little. “I know you didn’t. And I’m sorry for acting like a jerk about it.”
She nodded. “We talked about your being a dentist.”
“Yes, I remember that. What else did I tell you? Please be specific.”
One of the collie puppies started scratching on the door of its cage, interrupting his train of thought. Watching that fluffy ball of fur for a minute, Blair could sympathize with the pup; he knew what it felt like to be boxed in.
“You celebrated many accolades in school,” Mercedes said. “You’re a very smart man.”
“Not smart enough to stay away from a drink,” he retorted, going over to the cage and stroking the puppy’s head with a couple of fingers. “You told me some things about yourself that night. I remember that.”
“I told you about my childhood.”
Blair glanced at her, not knowing whether or not to pry.
“My father used to beat me if the sun didn’t shine.” Mercedes paused, her eyes tearing. She brushed away any evidence of emotion and said, “I left home at sixteen. So you see, I was homeless once, too. I know what it feels like.” She rubbed her arms as if she felt cold.
“All of the memories I have of that morning come to me in flashbacks, Mercedes.” He glanced around again to make sure no one else was in the room. “I think I may have witnessed the murders on Baker.”
Mercedes put a hand to her breast. “You’re a witness? Have you told the police?”
“No because I was experiencing a blackout at the time. I’ve only been remembering bits and pieces of what happened, just like our conversation.”
“Did you see who did it?”
“Yes.”
She took his answer like a slap in the face. “My God, Blair! You’ve got to go to the police!”
“I’m not so sure about that. I saw the murderer today sitting at a table in Matt’s Pizza Parlor with a Detective Mikel Smith. Smith happens to be in charge of the murder investigation.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“I am,” Blair said, “and I’m sure he probably doesn’t want some rummy like me coming along and ratting on one of his friends. I’m afraid that if anybody’s head rolls, it’ll be mine.”
“You must have more faith in law enforcement than that,” Mercedes said, but Blair only harumphed.
“I’m just realistic. I don’t believe in a perfect world.”
“Why so negative?”
“I’ve seen it from both sides, Mercedes. I’ve been a doctor with respect and I’ve been a bum on the street. What I’ve seen from both angles has been enough to make me puke.”
“What happened to you? I mean, why are you homeless now?”
“Somebody died because of my selfishness, and I’ve never been able to forgive myself. I thought booze would help me forget, but I was wrong.”
“Who died? A patient?”
“No, an acquaintance,” he said, wiping his dry mouth again.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” he said, not able to tell her his deepest secrets yet. “Being an alcoholic isn’t a choice I made. It’s the result of years of depression.”
“What do you really want to do with your life, Blair?”
“Well, that’s a fair question,” he said, rubbing his chin. “I’d like to dry out and start practicing again. But that’s easier said than done.”
“I know it must be hard on you,” she said, “being so dependent on alcohol.”
“Yeah,” he said, staring at her. “Do you wear glasses?”
“Excuse me?”
“Glasses. Do you wear them?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Sunglasses?”
“No, I….”
“You what?”
“I never wear glasses of any kind.”
“You must have friends who have money.”
“Why do you say that?”
“In your car…. I saw a leather case with gold trim. And the perfume….”
“I don’t wear perfume.”
“I know, but I smelled some in your car.”
“That’s absurd.”
“It comes back to me, bit by bit.” He hesitated. “You must have a boyfriend who wears the glasses, right?”
“What glasses?”
“Who wears the perfume?”
“There was no perfume.”
“What??
?s your last name?” he asked her.
“That’s none of your business.”
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll find out what it is on my own.”
She stared at him defiantly, lifting her chin. She was sure she wasn’t going to tell him.
Blair looked at the time clock again and walked over to it. He searched through the cards in the slots and pulled out hers. “Mercedes Whent,” he said, and then observed her irritated face closely. “You’re a part-timer here, three days a week. How can you get by in a town like this on a part-time salary?”
“Well, you seem to be able to get by on a lot less than I do.”
“True.”
“All you should be concerned with now is what you’re going to do about what you saw of the murders early Thursday. And I’m sure you’ll do the right thing,” she said, checking her watch. “Now I’ve got to go.” She went to the door and held it open for him.
“Yep,” he said, putting her time card back and then heading for the door. “Thanks for your time.”