The only sign for the Vulcan was a discreet illuminated plaque on a door so plain that had it been in an alley, you would have mistaken it for a service entrance.
He’d followed Nogueira through the rain after they parked a couple of blocks away. On any night other than this rainy Monday, the bar district would have been busier. Two boys smoking in the meager shelter of the overhang moved aside to let them pass.
The Vulcan’s interior decorator hadn’t applied much ingenuity to the design of the place. Dark walls with abstract designs in phosphorescent paint glowed under the neon lights. Even so, the crowd was lively, and several couples were dancing in a narrow space in front of the bar. Nogueira glanced around and strode up to a group of boys drinking bottled beer. “Well, what a coincidence. Here’s Richie!”
The boy he addressed turned around sputtering and clearly annoyed, and his buddies quickly withdrew. “Fuck, Lieutenant, you gave me a hell of a scare!”
Nogueira grinned like the big bad wolf. He was enjoying himself. “Guess you were up to no good, then.”
“No, no way!” The boy tried to smile. “It’s just I wasn’t expecting you.”
Manuel thought Richie was probably in his early twenties. Maybe a little older, but he was certainly baby-faced. Manuel realized that he had no idea what To?ino looked like. Was he as young as this? Did he have that gaunt look that seemed to be so popular with hustlers?
Manuel felt ill.
Richie noticed. “What’s wrong with your buddy?”
“Don’t you worry about him, Richie. But come to think of it, that’d be entirely out of character for you. You don’t worry even about your own crowd.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about your soul mate, your bosom buddy To?ino, who’s been gone for a week. You haven’t even dropped by his house to ask about him, so I figure maybe you know where he is and why he’s keeping his head down.”
The boy started to say something, but Nogueira cut him off. “And don’t think you can lie to me. I told his aunt not to worry, so now you’re going to explain to me what your bud’s mixed up in and why we don’t have to worry.”
Richie slowly deflated. “Well, listen, Lieutenant, I don’t know nothing, right? Except for what he told me.”
Nogueira motioned to the waiter, and three bottles of Estrella Galicia appeared on the bar. The policeman gave one to Manuel, then took the empty bottle out of the boy’s hands and replaced it with a full one. “So tell me.”
The kid took a swig before he spoke. “He said his luck had changed. Said he had something really big, and he was going to get a pile of dough.”
“What was it?”
“I dunno. Didn’t want to tell me.”
“I don’t believe you.” Nogueira wore a bored expression.
“I swear, Lieutenant, he refused to say, but he was talking about changing his life, leaving all this behind.” Richie waved broadly toward the bar. “It had to be something huge. The day before he got the hell out, he told me everything was ready. That’s why I wasn’t surprised he disappeared.”
“You expect me to believe that your sidekick and lifelong friend vanished without leaving you a crumb or toasting his success with you?”
The boy shrugged. His expression was sullen. “What do you think we are—marines? We don’t have no honor code or any of that kind of stuff. Yeah, we’re friends, but that’s how friends are around here, every man for himself. And if a guy runs across a good chance to get out and leave it all behind, you think he’s not going to take it? I sure would.”
“Did he say if this big deal of his had something to do with the marquis’s family?”
“You talking about the folks up As Grileiras?” The kid smiled. “No, I dunno. I guess not. He had other business with that bunch.”
“But you said it was something big. Blackmail? Maybe he was going to out someone as a user or talk about some client’s kinky tastes?”
“What? That’s crazy. To?ino’s no fool. He knows his clients, especially the women, and he milks even the classiest of them. You don’t kill the cow if it hasn’t gone dry.”
Manuel remembered Elisa running after Samuel through the garden and Herminia saying, Her son saved her. He turned away in disgust, left the bottle of beer on the bar, and walked away.
Nogueira caught up with him at the door. “He doesn’t know shit.”
They went out into the rain and walked down the deserted street toward the car.
They heard them before they saw them.
“Well, well, lookee what we got here!”
They turned around to find two grinning men standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Manuel noticed a third who’d stepped out onto the road from between the cars to block them off in that direction while keeping a nervous eye on the deserted street. Manuel thought he saw the blue lights of a police patrol car in the distance.
The first man spoke again. “This couple of queers’ve hooked up and are prancing off home to screw each other’s butts!”
Nogueira raised a hand. “You’re making a mistake.”
The one who’d addressed them laughed as if that were a hilarious joke. The others didn’t join in. The one who’d been in the road had now circled around behind them.
“He says I’m making a mistake; probably means they’re not gonna stick it up their asses. They like sucking dick better.”
“The one behind us is for you,” Nogueira said to Manuel.
“Go!” Manuel responded and sprang toward the one at their backs.
The guy couldn’t have been expecting it, because Manuel caught him full force in the left eye. He stumbled backward into the gutter and lost his footing, reeled against a parked car, and had to choose between putting a hand to his face and grabbing something to keep from falling. But he flailed out with a right hook that raked ineffectually across Manuel’s left ear.
The other two froze at the sight of the gun in Nogueira’s fist, aimed at them with the cold competent grip of a professional.
“And now what?” Nogueira challenged them, keeping them in his sights. “Who’s the queer now? What have you sons of bitches got to say about that? Huh? Still planning on having some fun?”
“Nogueira,” Manuel warned. The blue lights were coming slowly down the street toward them.
“Get out of here, you bastards!” the lieutenant said. He stepped to Manuel’s side and stamped a foot on the pavement just as Herminia had done outside the kitchen to scare away the immense cat.
The two helped up the one lying in the road between the two cars. They left, half dragging him as they went.
“And next time I see any of you around here, I’ll stick my pistol up your asses!” he shouted at their backs. That made them scramble faster.
Manuel and Nogueira went their way and turned the corner into the first cross street before the patrol car came abreast of them.
Nogueira didn’t speak until they were in the car with the engine running. “How are you?”
Manuel was astonished by Nogueira’s solicitous concern. He put his hand up toward the searing sensation across his ear but decided not to touch it. “All right.”
“How about your hand?” the policeman asked, gesturing toward Manuel’s still clenched fist.
“Okay. Swelling a bit, nothing special.”
Nogueira slammed his fists against the steering wheel. “Goddamn good! You gave that asshole a fine lesson!”
Manuel nodded, releasing his breath in a long heave but feeling tension still scrabbling about his body like a living thing.
“Really good, Manuel!” the officer repeated boisterously. “And now we’re going to get ourselves a stiff drink. We’re a couple of Vikings, qué carallo!” He swore exuberantly. “I don’t know about you but I need one!”
“Good idea,” Manuel managed to answer. He was trembling all over.