Page 105 of Two Marlboros

She giggled, then patted my cheek.

“Then have a good investigation. And congratulations.”

We hugged again, this time without the rush of just before, so I said goodbye to her, heading for the subway station.

I walked out of the bookstore with my coffee still in my hand, now grown cool; I finished it anyway, to get rid of the paper glass at the first useful dumpster.

The subway took me to the 34th Street. I was headed for the club where Harvey had taken me, the same one where I found the greasy card. I wanted to try to verify some of my suspicions, hoping to connect some dots.

I entered the place, and the decor left me surprised. The time I had come with Harvey I hadn’t paid much attention, or perhaps it didn’t seem so strange that a fast-food restaurant would have colorful bar stools and shiny plastic tables so well maintained; yet, despite the clientele that circulated in there, the environment was welcoming and clean. There were no litter on the floor or sticky blobs to be dodged with athletic slaloms; on the contrary, the floor was nicely polished and the tables spotless. The colorful ambience of the fast-food restaurant had the same sheen as any establishment of that type in wealthier areas.

At the counter there was still the gruff old man from last time, whom I remembered well, given the way he had treated me. I still had printed in my mind the grim look he had given me, and I realized it was the same one he had glued on me ever since I had set foot in his establishment. I only needed to take a step for his eyebrows to frown and his eyes to become much more like a threat. I decided to stop looking at him and mind my own business.

The clientele was still the same, with that lost look of people who had only the next dose in their minds, as if they didn’t know how to look any further. Every now and then it was possible to scout out some gentleman in a suit and tie, who certainly worked in one of the skyscrapers nearby, sitting at a small table, alone and with sports newspaper in hand. There was only one that day, biting into his hamburger while reading the news. He hadn’t even noticed that he had some salad stuck to his face.

I made my way through the colorful tables and directed my steps toward the bathrooms. It was enough to lower the handle of the outer door to find traces of white powder on my fingers. As I had already suspected, there were more than just chips being sold in there. The question, however, remained the same: who was selling them cocaine? And did the note I had found have anything to do with it?

As soon as I was away from prying eyes - not that those blind eyed people were dangerous - I slipped into the anteroom and pulled the note out of my pants pocket. I tried to reread what it said, but those words told me nothing, least of all the figures. Alan had assumed a line-by-line reading, but a hundred and twenty dollars for a can of soda seemed a bit excessive, unless the soda was something else.

I shoved the note back into my pocket and waited for one of the occupants to come out of the bathroom. As I had already ascertained, he had not flushed before leaving, nor had he washed his hands. I was curious to take a look, so I slipped inside. As soon as I got inside and closed the door behind me, I got the suspicion that the door was actually a portal to another dimension. The incredible stench in there hit me like a boomerang at full speed, and the light from the bulb above my head turned on and off. It wasn’t necessarily bad, because in the flashes of light I glimpsed, in the toilet, damp patches and encrusted residue whose nature I was better off not knowing; toapproach the toilet you had to have guts or a cold that kept you from breathing from your nose. I looked around, but there was nothing out of the ordinary, except for the door full of writings, so thick that by now one could no longer see the original layer of paint. I went out and returned to what looked like a palace by comparison.

I, however, needed information. That was where Harvey had taken me, and I knew he was snorting cocaine, as much as I had wanted to deny it. I had known it all along, I just had to repeat it out loud in my head and learn to accept the present as it was. I had no idea why he and Ryan had gotten into that business, but I had every intention of finding out. So, I placed myself in the hallway and, as soon as I heard the lock click, I stood at attention. Out the door came a young man in his early thirties, with a patchy beard and bloodshot eyes. He didn’t seem very responsive, but I tried to stop him anyway.

“Hey, sorry.”

He didn’t seem to have heard, so I barely grabbed him by the arm.

“...Huh?”

The guy looked at me, but quickly averted his eyes, perhaps attracted to something only he could see.

“Is this stuff good?”

Something like a laugh came out of him, showing his blackened teeth, perhaps from tar.

“It’s good yes. The best around.”

Another burst entered the bathroom, and I watched as he locked himself in one of those other-dimensional burrows. I didn’t hear him unbutton his pants and unzip them.

“Where can I buy it?”

He gave me a half-smile and moved his eyes to something I couldn’t quite grasp.

“Between 10th and 11th. There’s a guy, a Mexican guy, baggy pants and a hat – one of a kind.”

He pulled up with his nose and scratched it, while his eyes continued to pursue invisible preys.

“He has the best price of all,” he continued. “The tall girl on 13th, on the other hand, takes advantage because it’s a better area. The hotties go there...”

His head barely swayed, as if his neck could no longer support him properly. Then he recovered.

“...The hotties, yes. The ones in suits, with their noses in the air. They pay well, though, and she takes advantage of that.”

He giggled again on his own. He mumbled something, but I was unable to understand his words.

“Well, I thank you.”

As soon as I was sure he was not going to say anything else, I pulled down the handle of the anteroom and pushed open the door.

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