Page 120 of Two Marlboros

“What do you want to know about Michael?”

I was about to open my mouth when Arrow stood up on his hind paws and rested his front ones on my thighs. I humored him and gave him a few more cuddles, but he was distracting me. Suddenly, Church’s potential words darted through my mind if we came back to him empty-handed.

“Arrow,” William called back to him, clapping his hand on the couch, “here!”

The dog obeyed and sat down on the sofa, and his owner did the same soon after.

“What is the relationship between the two of you?” Ash asked, after he didn’t receive the slightest attention from Arrow.

“I’ve known Michael for about ten years. I had just moved to Manhattan after receiving a contract with a record company, and in the meantime, I was performing in a few bars. It was on this occasion that we met, because he used to hang out at some of the clubs where I was performing. We started talking about music, instruments, things like that.”

“I see,” I replied instead of Ash, who gave me an annoyed look. “How would you define your relationship?”

I had been tempted to ask, “So, you’re close friends?” but I remembered in time that I should try, as much as possible, to ask open-ended questions. William arched his shoulders, as if it had been such an obvious question that there was no answer.

“Well, we’re very close.”

I watched him, waiting for him to say more. Understanding the relationship between them was crucial.

“We talk to each other about two, three times a week, it’s a pretty close relationship,” he added.

Michael had been missing for a month or so now, enough time to be able to talk about their habits in the past tense; William, on the other hand, talked about them in the present tense, as if their relationship had not stopped with the disappearance, but it had continued.

“Michael has been declared missing, but I guess you are aware of that,” I retorted, and he nodded.

“Yes, I learned about it from the newspapers about two weeks ago.”

“So, he didn’t tell you about it?”

Clide opened his mouth and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “Not really.”

He stopped rubbing his hands and slid his gaze from me to Ashton.

“Explain yourself better, please.”

His eyes lowered to the left, a symptom that he was processing. He took a deep breath.

“I knew Michael had taken some kind of break, so to speak, from everyday life, but I didn’t think he was considered missing, here. The robbery turned the spotlight on the post office, and that’s where the whole thing came up.”

“Why would Michael take this break?” asked Ash.

“He was having problems, shall we say.”

I had a suspicion that the terse answer was not due to Clide’s simple modesty about other people’s business.

“What kind of problems?”

He took a sip of water, then rifled a couple of strokes at Arrow, who yowled contentedly.

“He wanted to take a break from dealing with some people.”

“Like a girlfriend?” I asked.

“No, people he had troubles with.”

Clide knew I would insist on more information about Michael’s problems, so he didn’t even wait for me to ask the question.

“Money issues, I guess. But I’m not sure. I don’t know if Michael was mixed up in some shady business, if that’s what you want to know.”

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