Walk the Wire (Amos Decker #6)(16)

“You could say that.”

“Who owns the building?” asked Decker.

“Hugh Dawson, or one of his companies. In fact, like Ida Simms mentioned, he owns pretty much all of London, the good and bad parts.”

The man at the front desk was about forty and looked like he would rather be anywhere else on earth than where he currently was. He put down his iPhone, took off his black rimmed specs, wiped them on the sleeve of his shirt, and replaced them as they strode up to him. He barely glanced at Decker or Jamison.

“Hi, Joe,” said the man, nodding at Kelly with a wary look.

“Ernie, these folks are with the FBI out of Washington,” replied Kelly, indicating Decker and Jamison.

Ernie’s prominent Adam’s apple bobbed up and down like an out-of-whack elevator car.

“Okay,” he said suspiciously. “Never met any FBI agents before. You look pretty normal. Thought you’d be scarier.”

“We can be very scary, if the situation calls for it,” said Jamison brightly.

“We want to ask you some questions and have a look around,” said Kelly. “I’m sure you have no problem with that, right?”

“Yeah, I do. What kind of questions? And I don’t know if you can look around without a warrant.”

Kelly leaned in close to Ernie. “You surprise me, Ernie. That doesn’t sound too helpful or friendly.”

“I’m not paid to be either one.”

“Fact is, we’re investigating a murder.”

“Who got killed?”

“You would probably know her as Mindy.”

Ernie’s features screwed up tight. “Mindy? I don’t know nobody by that name. Would’ve remembered that one.”

“Sure you do, Ernie,” said Kelly. “I met her here one night. You saw me with her and I saw you.”

Ernie shook his head. “Your memory must be a lot better than mine.”

Kelly glanced past him. “What do we have here? An ex-con drug dealer with a bottle of pills on that shelf back there that doesn’t look like prescription drugs? That would be a serious violation of your parole. You don’t want to go back inside, do you?”

Ernie glanced nervously at the bottle. “Those ain’t mine. Just holding ’em for a buddy.”

“You have no objection to me seeing what they are.” Kelly started to walk behind the reception desk to get the bottle.

“Okay, I know Mindy,” he blurted out. “Are we done here?”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“I forget.”

Kelly started to reach for the pill bottle.

“Okay, okay, it was last week.”

“Be more precise than that,” said Decker.

Ernie rubbed his lower lip and did the calculation in head. “Six days ago.”

Decker looked at Kelly. “Now our TOD is down to four days. That alone made it worth talking to this guy.”

“Did you speak with her?” asked Kelly.

“No.”

“Was she with anyone?” interjected Jamison.

“She doesn’t come here unless she’s with someone,” replied Ernie flatly. “That’s sort of the point of the, um, line of work she was in.”

“The guy’s name?” asked Kelly.

“They don’t tell me. They pay me cash and they get the room. And I don’t ask no questions and nobody shows ID.”

“Description, then,” demanded Decker.

“Short, muscular, blond, young, stupid, horny.”

“Male or female?” asked Jamison.

“Are you serious?” Ernie snapped. “It was a guy.”

“Fracker?” asked Kelly.

“He looked it. Hands all chewed up and skin sunburnt and a wallet full of cash nearly as big as he was.”

“How long were they here?” asked Decker.

“About forty-five minutes. They usually all take about that much time. I don’t imagine there’s much chitchat that goes on.”

“Did they leave together or separate?” asked Decker.

“Guy left first, then Mindy.”

“How’d the guy seem?”

“How do you think? He was smiling ear to ear with a spring in his step. Hell, it was like he’d won the lottery or something.”

“She seem okay?” asked Kelly.

“She didn’t seem not okay.”

“Be more specific,” prompted Jamison.

“Well, she seemed happy, actually. Maybe the sex was good, I don’t know.”

Jamison said, “You must have other women come in here with men, to . . . have a good time.”

“Look, I don’t know what you mean,” blustered Ernie.

“We’re not looking to bust you over this,” said Jamison. “I just want to know was Mindy different from the other ladies?”

Decker glanced at her and then stared at Ernie, awaiting his answer.

“Different how?”

“I think you know how,” said Jamison.

Ernie let out a long breath. “Look, the other gals come down still counting their money, if they do take cash. Some insist on Venmo because it’s safer. But it’s all business with them. It’s not like they enjoy getting strangers off over and over.”