Bloody Genius (Virgil Flowers, #12)(61)

* * *



—

Virgil thought to go somewhere with Capslock to make the call to Paisley, but Capslock said, “Why not now?”

“You mean here?”

“Yeah. Here. I mean, we’re already sitting down.”

“Tell her you met Richard here, at the Territorial,” Wayne said.

Virgil laid his phone faceup on the table so everybody in the booth could hear and he called. A man answered. “Who’s this?”

Virgil: “Could I speak to, uh, Paisley?”

“She ain’t here. Who are you?”

“Bob.”

“Why do you want Paisley, Bob?”

“My friend Richard recommended that I take her out, you know, on a date.”

“Richard, huh? Tall black dude with this bald spot?”

Wayne was shaking a finger, and mouthed, Short . . . white . . .

Virgil said, “Well, uh, this guy was a sort of short white guy. I met him down at the Territorial.”

After a moment of silence, the man said, “Wait one. Paisley walked in.”

A woman came on a minute later, and asked, “What’d Richard say about me?”

“He said to ask what facilities you offer.”

“Well, Bob, what exactly do you need?”

“He said some people call you Paisley Tied. And, you know . . .”

“Are you here in town, Bob?”

“I’m from Mankato. I’m staying at the Graduate tonight.”

“Huh. Nice place. Okay, it’s a date. I’ll meet you at the Applebee’s. How will I recognize you?”

“I’m wearing an old Led Zeppelin T-shirt that just says ‘Zep’ and a sport coat, and I have blond hair down over my ears.”

“Ooo, sounds handsome. Half hour from now?”

“See you then,” Virgil said.



* * *



—

Virgil and Capslock said good-bye to Wayne as they all walked out to the street, and just before they parted, Wayne said, “Del, for extra credit . . .”

“Like what?”

“If you could put me down for like a hundred hours picking up trash on St. Dennis Road?”

“That’s a lot of trash,” Capslock said. “What do you have?”

“A warning?”

“Let’s hear it.”

Wayne said to Virgil, “That guy you talked to? That’s Paisley’s brother. The word is, he flunked out of the Vikings offensive line for being too mean. I swear to God, the guy could pull the arms off a gorilla.”

Virgil went with that. “Okay.”

Wayne turned to Capslock and lifted his eyebrows.

“I’ll think about it,” Capslock said.



* * *



—

A half hour later, Virgil was in a booth at the Applebee’s, looking at a cheeseburger and a Diet Coke, and Capslock was across the room, talking to a waitress about her impending motherhood. Paisley walked in, but nobody turned to look. She was a nondescript, slender, dark-haired woman with a soft face, a mole under one eye, and dark eyebrows that nearly met in the middle. She was carrying an oversized leather purse. She was alone.

She spotted Virgil, took in the Zep T-shirt, and slid into the booth across from him. She said, “Give me your hand, Bob,” and Virgil put his hand on the table. She gripped it, and said, “I can do about anything you want, but I don’t allow myself to get hurt. When we go outside, you’ll see my assistant. He’s the guy who looks like an old telephone booth. And, I promise you, he could yank off your head and shove it up your ass. That’s not a threat. I’m saying he’s my protection. Do you understand?”

Virgil bobbed his head dumbly, and she went on with her price list. Virgil nodded in Capslock’s direction, who broke away from the waitress, walked over to the booth in four long strides, and slid in beside Paisley, trapping her and pushing her to the wall.

Capslock smiled, and said, “I’m Del Capslock, Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension. This hippie gentleman is Virgil Flowers, also an agent with the BCA. We’re cops, but this is not necessarily a bust.”

She looked from Virgil to Capslock, and then snarled, “If it’s not a bust, then what is it?”

“A good-natured search for information,” Virgil said. “I taped your offers and your price list, so you’re out of luck, Paisley. But, I have very little interest in your moneymaking activities. I need to know something from you.”

“What?”

“The name of a friend of yours who was having a sexual relationship with a university professor. Don’t lie to us—we’re investigating a murder, and if you lie to us, you’ll be an accessory to murder. That’s a whole different thing than a prostitution arrest.”

She didn’t argue but frowned at Virgil, and asked, “How’d you hear about my friend?”

Virgil said, “There’s word going around on the street. It got back to us as a tip. A bad guy got a get-out-of-jail-free card.”

Capslock was looking over Virgil’s shoulder, and said, quietly, “A very large personage just walked in.”

Virgil said to Paisley, “If that’s your brother, wave him off.”