Posts Tagged ‘Astrid’

On The Job (Revised)

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August 2nd, 2010 Posted 8:41 am

Tulip was staying at a dusty little motel that reminded me of the place where we first came across Marvin Winkleman’s wife. And the guy she was meeting out there, which turned out to be a big surprise. That’s in To Fetch A Thief, so forget it for now. The point is Bernie and I drove in the Porsche and Tulip drove Ray in her car.

“Wow,” Tulip said, when we were all together outside her door. “Astrid doesn’t look nearly old enough to have a full-grown kid like Ray. Full-grown man, I should say.”

Sometimes when humans get uncomfortable they shift from foot to foot, men more than women and young men like Ray the most. Ray was doing it now. “She was pretty young when she had me,” he said.

“And she’s such a good dancer, too,” said Tulip. She unlocked the door and we went inside. “Hey,” she said. “That’s funny.”

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Busman’s Holiday

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July 29th, 2010 Posted 8:35 am

“What are you doing here, Tulip?” Bernie said.

“Stripping, basically,” she said, still patting me. She was an expert! We were in the dressing room at Club Utopia, which I should probably remind everybody about.

“Um,” said Bernie, “uh. I meant are you still with Livia, or … “

“Oh, yes! I’m learning so much from her. This is just something extra, sort of a busman’s holiday, Livia says.” Maybe I should also remind everybody that Livia Moon runs a place in Pottsdale called Livia’s Friendly Coffee and More. Tulip works in the more part. “But can I ask you the same thing?” Tulip said. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for Astrid Jason,” Bernie said. “Do you know her?”

Tulip nodded. “I hope she comes back soon. Not that I mind storing her stuff. But it’s a big responsibility.”

“You’re storing her stuff?”

“Just a couple suitcases,” Tulip said.

“Can we see them?” Bernie said.

“Well, I don’t know,” Tulip said. “I promised I’d take good care of them.”

“Then we’re on the same side,” Bernie said.

Admin to Staff: If Staff will send an address to spence.quinn@gmail.com an arc of To Fetch A Thief will be on its way, a little recovery-period reading material.

Here’s a little more Rosie Gray. If link doesn’t work, maybe cut and paste: http://blogs.villagevoice.com/runninscared/archives/2010/07/chelsea_clinton_2.php

Tomorrow 10-noon, Spencer Quinn at Brewster Books, 2648 Main Street, Brewster, MA 02631

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Posted in Chet The Dog

An Old Friend

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July 24th, 2010 Posted 9:25 am

We went into the dressing room at Club Utopia, me, Bernie and the bouncer, who limped a bit on the stairs, but Bernie took his arm and gave him a little boost. I needed no boosting myself, never do, really – hey! was I  more of a booster? That was an interesting thought. I turned it over in my mind a few times and then away it went.

The dressing room was small, with a counter along one side, mirrors above it, surrounded by little light bulbs. A young woman wearing not much sat before one of the mirrors, putting on makeup. Makeup is an interesting subject – worn mostly, but not always! by women which reminds me of a bar called No-No’s, where … but perhaps a story for another time.

The young woman saw us and turned. “Bernie?” she said. “Chet?”

“Tulip?” said Bernie. His gaze kind of left her face, wandered down. He forced it back up, big struggle. Poor Bernie.

But the point was this was Tulip. She was a pal. We knew her from Livia Moon’s place in Pottsdale -Livia’s Friendly Coffee and More. Tulip worked in the More part, at the back. That’s all in To Fetch A Thief. I went right over to her.

“How’s my big beautiful guy?” she said, and gave me a pat. Tulip was an excellent patter. So were all the young women who worked for Livia Moon, no idea why.

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Detente

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July 23rd, 2010 Posted 9:05 am

“I’m hurt,” the bouncer said, still squirming around on the pavement outside Club Utopia.

“It didn’t have to be this way,” Bernie said. “If you’d just answered a few simple questions, we’d have been out of here, no harm done.”

“What kind of questions?”

“About Astrid Jason.”

“Astrid don’t even work here no more,” the bouncer said.

“How come?” said Bernie.

The bouncer shrugged. Then he winced and said, “Ow.” Some humans handle pain better than others. The bouncer was one of the others. “Strippers,” he said. “They come and go.”

Bernie nodded. “And where did Astrid go?” he said.

“No clue,” said the bouncer. “Just didn’t show up the other day. Didn’t even bother cleaning out her locker.”

“She left things here?”

“Costumes, stuff like that.”

“They’re still inside?” Bernie said.

“Maybe,” said the bouncer. “Up in the dressing room.”

“How about we go take a little look-see?” Bernie said.

The bouncer gazed at Bernie. He seemed to be taking a long time to answer. I moved closer to him, got very close, now that I think about it. Were my teeth showing? Possibly.

“Okay,” the bouncer said, his eyes on me.

Bernie helped him up, even brushed him off a bit. “That’s the spirit,” he said.

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