The Blue Note Read online

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “We’re making it out business, now answer the question Bogart.” This time short and stocky did smack me so hard he almost knocked me out of my chair.

  To avoid further pain I decided to give up the tough guy act. “Yes, I had a date, last night.”

  “And who was your date, Mr. Bogart ?” Crew cut said.

  “ Call me Dirk. I feel like we are old friends here.” I said being a smart ass.

  “God dammit Bogart.” Crew cut yelled, his face turning crimson red.

  “Okay, okay. Calm down boys. Don’t blow a gasket. I was with Michele Dubois, the singer with the band down at the Blue Note club where I currently work as doorman and if need be bouncer, for your information.”

  “Well it seems this dame has gone missing and foul play is suspected. You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you Dirk?” Short and stocky spit in my face as he spoke, and I could smell the garlic on his breath as he asked the question.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “The lady is missing, there’s blood all over the place at her joint and you, by your own admission was with her last night. What don’t you understand Bogart?”

  “Dirk, call me Dirk.”

  “God damn it Bogart, answer the question or I swear

  “Okay, okay. I don’t know. That’s the God’s honest truth. She was fine when I left her place around 5 o’clock. I swear. I wouldn’t hurt her. I kinda like her, if you know what I mean?”

  “What time did you and this Michele, leave the club last night?”

  “Three, I met her outside the club at three o’clock. She said don’t be late Dirk, you will be on time, yes. She talks like that. She has this sexy French thing going on. She has these beautiful blue eyes

  “Here’s what we think happened,” short and stocky professed his theory. “You met this Michele dame outside the club at three. You ended up over at her joint and things got a little heated up. But she wasn’t up for what you had in mind.”

  “Bull shit!” I never laid a hand on that girl. She was fine when I left her. I think I want my phone call now,” I said screaming loud enough for the whole place to hear.

  “Then you forced yourself on her, you low life little prick. You panicked, knowing she would rat you out to the cops, so you killed her. Where’s the body, Bogart? We know you did it.”

  “God you guys need to be in Hollywood. Boy, what a story. You stiffs got dick or you wouldn’t be leaning on me so hard. So charge me or let me go.

  Crew cut cleared his throat, suddenly a little lost for words. “Well I guess you can go. But don’t go too far. We got our eyes on you.”

  I got up from the chair, pushed by crew cut and short and stocky and made my way through the maze, out the front door into the fresh morning air. “Assholes,” I said to myself lighting up a square and taking a deep draw. “How could they think I had anything to do with hurting Michele? I love her for God’s sake. I bet you a dime to a donut that damn Mayor Dennison had something to do with this. I smell a rat, a big one.”

  Chapter Seven

  Eight o’clock and I was back at my post at the Blue Note. I was worried sick about Michele, but I didn’t have a single clue as to what had happened to her. I had a sinking feeling something bad had happened to her but at the same time knew somehow she was all right.

  T-Bone and the boys were playing hot as usual but they were missing one very important thing, Michele Dubois, all the way from New Orleans. I had left the door and was sitting drinking a cup of Joe when the band finished up a sultry number and Bone came over to join me looking like a mile of bad road. “I guess you heard what happened,” he said, his voice hollow and sad.

  “Yeah, I did. Memphis finest paid me a visit early this morning, hauled me down to the station and proceeded to give me the third degree. They think I had something to do with it. What the hell is going on T-Bone?”

  “All’s I know is the girl is missing. The cops came here asking questions too. That’s how I found out. Blood was all over her place they said. God. I’m worried Dirk. Who would want to hurt Michele?” T-Bone whispered almost in tears.

  “Think about it Bone. That Mayor Dennison, kinda got the hots for her and she’s stepping out with me. He had something to do with this, I’m certain, him and that Pauli.”

  “I don’t know Dirk, I’m just a piano player, but if that’s what happened, the girl’s in trouble for real. You got a cigarette. Damn, I’m scared Dirk.

  I pulled a fresh pack out of my pocket, opened it and gave T-Bone one and took one myself hoping it would calm us both down. “Me too, Bone, me too.”

  We sat there smoking for a while, both of us in deep thought and sharing the same burden of worry about the whereabouts of Michele. Finally T-Bone said, “I’ve got to get back to work.” He left leaving me alone with my coffee and cigarettes and a growing fear that something terrible had happened to the love of my life.

  I wasn’t too sure the police would find her, especially if the mayor was the perpertrator of this heinous crime. I felt guilty that her involvement with me somehow was the reason she had become the victim of foul play. Dennison wanted her to himself and would stop at nothing to have her of that I was certain.

  I had to do something, but what? I didn’t have any friends on the Memphis PD and had long since hung up my P.I. shoes. But maybe it was time to take ’em down, dust them off and do a little poking around. Very quietly of course, because if the mayor and Paulie found out I was snooping around, no telling what hole I might wake up in.

  I had to start from the last place I saw her. I was sure there were clues a grade A gum shoe like myself could find that Memphis finest had missed. I was back in the game again, Dirk Bogart Private Investigations, at your service.

  Chapter Eight

  All the time the police had been harassing me, they could have been looking for Michele. Unless they already knew where she was and decided to just pretend they were looking for her. Little did they know I was on the case now. Maybe I was a little rusty, but I still could teach these local yokel cops a few things about private investigating.

  The sun was just peeping through the morning clouds as I made my way down the alley to Michele’s place. The rats and stray cats were thankfully asleep as I tipped down the back way and eased open her door half expecting to be greeted by Memphis finest, but luckily the place was quiet, and empty, but scary as hell.

  Furniture was strewn all over the place like a giant hand had taken her living room ensemble and tossed it around haphazardly. Dishes were broken all over the kitchen floor, glasses were smashed against the wall leaving tiny shards everywhere, a circle was drawn in the middle of her living room floor in a brown substance that that could have been blood. If that wasn’t bizarre enough there were feathers scattered all over the whole joint like someone had been slaughtering chickens. What the hell?

  I suddenly felt like someone was watching me. You know that feeling when you don’t see anyone but you feel someone. I jerked my head around hoping to see who it was watching me but, not really wanting to see them.

  “What the hell have you gotten yourself involved in Michele?” I said out loud, after all I was alone, but I still had that feeling of being watched. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing at attention as I continued on with my quest. I screamed out loud as the door suddenly slammed shut with a loud bang, then there was silence. I started to run like a scared little school girl but managed to calm myself. “Its just the wind, Dirk. No one is here, stop being such a little bitch for God’s sake.”

  Then I saw it over in a corner behind the door leading to her bedroom, a big pool of what looked like blood. There were drops of blood on the floor that lead to the front door of her place. There were two sets of footprints in the blood and I followed the trail out of the door to the street where they stopped.

  There had been foul play here, there was no doubt, but what the hell k
ind of bizarre stuff went on I was at a loss to say. I needed to do some more poking around. What I had found at Michelle’s was very strange but what did it mean? First I had to get some sleep, the sandman was calling and I had to heed his call. Later, I would continue my quest, later.

 

  Chapter Nine

  I tore myself reluctantly out of my bed at noon, grabbed a quick shower and headed out the door. I didn’t really know where I was going, but wherever it was, I hoped I could find some answers. My stomach growled and rumbled, so I decided to stop by this little eat ‘em up joint down the street for a quick burger and a cup of Joe. On the way I bought a newspaper from the corner stand and headed down to the greasy spoon, not even bothering to open it.

  Taking a booth back in the corner, I motioned for the waitress to come on over. She was a cute little dish with mousy brown hair and baby blues, but I was in no mood for conversation that particular morning. I ordered a burger with cheese and lots of onions and a cup of coffee, black.

  Waiting for my food, I opened my paper to take a look at the morning headlines. Much to my surprise greeting me on the front page was a large picture of Michele and an accompanying story about her disappearance. “The police have no leads presently,” the story went on to say. “Bull crap! They know something!” I said to myself in anger as my burger and coffee showed up right on cue.

  Munching on my burger I continued to read. Funny there was no mention of the blood, the circle in the middle of the floor, or the feathers. That’s curious, I thought. “Why would they leave such important details out of their story? Maybe the coppers conveniently forgot to tell the good people of the press the whole truth.” That rat was stinking again.

  I finished up my heart burn waiting to happen burger and coffee, paid the bill, and decided to go wake up T-Bone. Maybe he might have some ideas, ‘cause I didn’t have a one. Besides, he had a car and I needed some wheels. It was old but it ran. A P.I. needs some wheels. Can’t work a case without some wheels.

  T-Bone lived in an old room he rented from the club owner. It was in the back of the night club facing an alley and connected to the kitchen. It wasn’t much but it was cheap and convenient.

  Pounding on the door loud enough to wake the dead I finally managed to rouse Bone from a deep slumber. He opened he door a crack and peeped out. “Who dat this early, beating on my door?”

  “It’s me. Open the door, I need to talk to you?”

  “Bogart, what the hell? Do you know what time it is?”

  “Let me in Bone. We need to talk.”

  He eased the door open the rest of way and finally invited me in. His place wasn’t much, just a bed, two chairs , a hot plate, and an old basin to wash his face in.

  “What the hell you want, Dirk? It best be important.”

  “It’s about Michele,” I said hoping to calm him down.

  “Why didn’t you say so. Pull up a chair. Want something to drink?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” I said with a smile. “Got a smoke?”

  “Okay, spill it Bogart. What’s this all about?” Bone asked while pouring me a drink and lighting up a smoke and handing it to me.

  I took a drink of whiskey, a drag from the square, and started my story. “I just came from Michele’s place and you wouldn’t believe what I found.”

  “Try me. I could believe a lot of things. Get on with your cockamamie story, Dirk.” Bone took a drink from his glass and lit up a smoke and took a big drag.

  “Talk about foul play. Foul play I guess. I don’t know what the hell went on there. I really don’t. Blood everywhere, a circle on the floor in the middle of the room and feathers, feathers everywhere, for God’s sake. What the hell, Bone?”

  T-Bone downed the remainder of the whiskey in his glass with one swallow and poured himself another, a full one this time. “A circle in the middle of the floor? Feathers? Oh, my Lord. Help her. Oh my God.” He started to shake with what seemed like an uncontrollable fear.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  He couldn’t say but one word; “Voodoo.”

  Being from the city of angels, I’d never heard of Voodoo. “What are you talking about Bone?”

  “Black Magic, witchcraft, evil spirits, the devil all rolled up into one, that’s what I’m talking about. The slaves brought it over from Africa to New Orleans. They still practice it down there, and right here in Memphis too.”

  “Sounds like superstitious nonsense. You don’t really believe in this Voodoo do you Bone?”

  “Oh, it’s for real all right. They cast spells on people and make them do all sorts of things. Even commit murder.”

  “Murder?”

  “If them Voodoo people got Michele, she’s in real danger Dirk. We’ve got to find her.”

  “I agree, but where do we start looking for her? Where do these Voodoo people hang out?” I finished my drink and poured myself another.

  “I have friends down in Voodoo village. Way down south of Memphis. They might know something, If‘n they not too scared to tell. These people mighty scary of what a well placed curse can do. ”

  “Let’s go. We’re burning daylight.”

  “You right about that, ’cause we sure as hell don’t want be down there after the sun goes down.”

  We headed on down to Voodoo Village, way down south of town, way down where white people, and me being of that persuasion, that meant me, didn’t normally go. As T-Bone drove, he told me tales about the rituals they performed and the spells that these Voodoo people cast. I’ll have to admit it scared the hell out of me. But I was determined to find out what had happened to Michele, no matter how big the yellow streak running down my back was getting, the more stories Bone told.

  The paved road ran out and gave way to a dirt road, that from its looks was not heavily traveled. There was not another car anywhere in sight as we made our way down that deserted pathway for around fifteen minutes before coming to an old shack that sat alone and ominous. “This is it,” T-Bone said, pointing at the old dilapidated structure.

  “This is what?” I said to Bone, looking at him like he had lost his mind, or thought I lost mine.

  “This is the place fool, where a Voodoo high priestess practices her evil ways. She a scary old witch, but she’s harmless.”

  “I don’t know about this.”

  “Don’t be such a chicken. You say you want to find Michele. Now, come on.”

  We got out of Bone’s old Chevy, the wind was blowing, dust was so thick I could hardly breathe. My legs shook as we made the short trip from the car to the shack. T-Bone banged on the door which made a hollow, eerie sound. There was no answer.

  “Come on Bone, let’s go. There’s nobody here.”

  “She’s here alright. She don’t never leave this place.” He banged on the door, louder this time.

  The door creaked open about an inch.

  “Open the door, Hattie Mae. It’s me, T-Bone. Open up now. I needs to talk to you.”

  Hattie Mae opened the door, and oh my God, that was one ugly woman. She had skin that was black as coal, hair as white as snow, and one rotten tooth in an otherwise empty mouth. A huge mole protruded from her pointed chin, from which a hair an inch long grew. She was dressed in what appeared to be an old potato sack. Her body was bent with age and her back was humped like the “Hunchback of Notre Dame.” Legs looking like gnarled pieces of black wood protruded out from her garment connected to hideous feet with long curled toe nails caked with dirt.

  The smell was overwhelming, the air was so pungent and thick I damn near tossed that burger I had eaten earlier. Sweat poured down my face as I just stood there wondering what the hell was going to happen next, hoping I wouldn’t pass out right on the spot.

  “Who’s this white man you done brung into my house. Must be a white devil. Is you the devil, Mr. White man?” Hattie Mae asked, looking at Bone first, then at me.

  “Hattie Mae, this is Dirk. He’s a
friend of mine.”

  “Is you the devil, Mr. Dirk?”

  “No, ma’am, not far as I know.”

  She just laughed and slapped me on the back. “Any friend of T-Bone’s is a friend of mine.”

  I was relieved, ’cause I thought any minute she was going to throw me in that large black kettle she had heating on a huge rack in the fireplace. “I’m happy to meet you,” I said, but all I really wanted to do was get the hell out of there. But if she had news about Michele , then I wanted to hear it.

  “You boys look hot and tired. How about a drink? I make up right here. They tell me its kicks like a mule. I never tried it, but that’s what they tell me.”

  “No ma’am,” Bone said.

  “No ma’am,” I said.

  “Well, if’n you boys don’t want nothing to drink, what the hell you come all the way down here for? Not that I ain’t glad for the company. I don’t get many visitors these days.” She drug two old dusty chairs from a dark corner of the room and motioned for us to have a seat. “You boys have a seat and tell Hattie Mae what she can do for you.”

  Bone leaned over and spoke in a hushed, nervous tone. “Voodoo. Voodoo business Hattie Mae. A friend of ours has disappeared and it looks as if she has been involved in a spell or curse of some kind. Have you heard anything about a woman being kidnapped for a human sacrifice, Hattie Mae?”

  Hattie Mae roared with laughter, and slapped herself on the knee. “A human sacrifice? They don’t do that stuff anymore T-Bone. They might kill a few chickens or what not, but they too scared of the law to be killing folks these days. Your friend probably done run off with some man, that’s all.”

  “You should have seen her joint, Hattie Mae. There was a circle in the middle of the floor in what looked like blood. Feathers all over the place and a trail of blood that led all the way out to the street.”

  “Silly boys, that’s not how Voodoo Priests and Priestess operate. They wouldn’t have did the ceremony at her place. They would have taken her to a sacred place to do the sacrifice. I’m not saying they took her. In fact it sounds like someone staged all that Voodoo stuff to throw the coppers off the trail. Surprised they ain’t been out here alookin’ for her.”