A Strange Request at a Piano Bar

Mary Beth walked down the dimly lit streets listening to the constant drone of the gathering crowd. Neon lights flickered in and out as the evening light cast long shadows on the ground around her. The air was thick with smog and Beth adjusted the mask on her face to better keep out the poisonous fumes. The air was thick and damp at all times in this part of the city, situated close to the industrial complex. The humidity created a lot of oxidation on the pipes that ran up and down the sides of the buildings, criss crossing this way and that, a spider's web of rusty leaking lines that only added to the dirty alley’s oppressive atmosphere.

Beth would have never come here, to this shady side street filled with drunks. But she was here to meet a client. In her line of work she often was forced to go into seedy parts of the city but out of all of them, this was the worst. She preferred order and cleanliness, as evidenced by her pristine apartment and office where she worked. Mary Beth had always had a keen eye for detail that led her to be compulsive about a great deal of things. But it served her well as an investigator for the police department and now a private detective. She had spent ten years on the force but due to circumstances involving the captain she had been “forced” into an early retirement. She rolled her eyes remembering his juvenile response to her accusations of mismanagement of the department. I guess that open door policy he touted only extended as far as people willing to pay him compliments. From then on he was out to get her and she found it impossible to move up in the department of transfer to other districts in the city.

Mary Beth had grown tired of watching her career spin idly in the bowl so she quit to pursue a new career. But she could not quite put down the nagging feeling that she could contribute more and the strong desire she had to solve crimes and cases. Her career path had always been a source of controversy with her family, but when she told her parents about the private detective agency she could feel their eyes roll. It was true so far she barely made enough money to scrape by but she hoped that was about to change. She pulled her notepad from her pocket checking her notes again. John Delling was not the typical jealous spouse or missing pet client that she had grown wearily accustomed to. First off she could not dig up any information about this man in her research despite him claiming to be from the area. This had led her to suspect that the name was a fake and that he wanted to keep his true identity undisclosed. Second, he paid her in advance for the meeting a quite substantial amount wiring it to her account before they had even met. That had never happened before. And finally the rendezvous point. She stood in front of the piano bar, The Tiny Dancer, wondering what on earth had compelled her client to suggest meeting here.

The doors open to a toxic cornucopia of smells. Cigarette ash mixed alcohol and God only knows what else. Even her mask was not enough to keep it at bay and she could feel her eyes burning. She scanned the room, she had no idea what to look for as the only information she had been given was the name and the address. She noticed the bartender eyeing her and she decided that was as good a place as any to start. Apparently the theme went beyond the name as she could see in the back of the bar a man dressed as Elton John as he began to sing and play “Blue Eyes”. It was a decent impersonator she thought as the bartender leaned across the bar and asked her what she was having. “Martini,” Mary Beth answered, “with a twist of lemon.” As he worked she leaned forward and asked him if he knew John Delling. He thought about it for a minute, shaking his head, “nope sorry,” he replied “but I am still pretty new here,'' he added as an explanation. He finished her drink and handed it to her. The rind of the lemon he had twirled into a spiral shape and cut, draping it over the edge of the glass. She took a sip and turned to watch the impersonator play the piano.

After maybe a minute a man came and sat next to her and she sure hoped it was Delling. He’s not bad, the man said and Mary Beth nodded. “Are you waiting here for someone?” The man followed up and for the first time Beth looked him over. He was older, possibly in his 70’s but had a slim build. He wore a large overcoat but underneath was a fine linen suit, possibly Armani. “Delling?” Mary Beth asked. The old man sat next to her, “let's say I speak for Mr. Delling,” he answered. Mary Beth frowned. Sensing her mood the man produced an envelope and handed it to her. She took it feeling the weight and knew instantly it was a large stack of bills. “More money,” she thought, she felt nervous, what on earth was all this about. “Mr. Delling needs you to find someone for him,” the older man said and she studied his face again. She had a strange feeling that she knew this man, he seemed familiar. “The details are in the envelope,” he said and turned to go. She reached out to stop him but realized she was not really even sure what to ask. She watched him grab an umbrella and walk out the door. Mary Beth finished her drink rather grumpily and then paid her tab and headed back to her office. Stepping out of the bar she heard the first rumblings of thunder and pulled up the collar on her coat.

She spilled the contents of the envelope on her desk and shook her coat out outside the door. She examined it and fortunately it was not too wet. She counted the money, ten thousand dollars. She was glad she did not open it inside the bar. Also included was a flier advertising the coming summer carnival. Every year they would set up in the town square and for a fee you could purchase tickets to ride the rickety rides and play the games. She examined the flier more closely and saw in the cover photograph one person circled. Only the face was highlighted but the image was of poor quality because of the size and print of the flier. Inside the flier was a letter.

Detective Jones,

The man in the photograph is your target, find him and deliver the vile included in the envelope to him as soon as possible. He will know the significance of the item upon receiving it.

Upon completion further funds ($50,000) will be added to the same account used for the deposit.

Sincerely John Delling

Beth leaned back in her chair, she picked up the envelope and shook it and indeed one more item rolled out. A small unmarked vial with a wax seal containing a slightly yellow tinged liquid. She shook the vial and it was viscous and looked like an oil based substance. It had no label as she twisted the top slightly and she paused. Breaking the seal seemed like a bad idea, and she placed the bottle on her desk next to the stack of bills. She did not like all the money involved, so far twelve thousand and fifty more when it was all said and done, all for finding and delivering a vial. She examined the photograph on the flier again. The image was poor but she noticed a website on the bottom corner. She opened her laptop and typed in the address. Luckily for her the image was on the banner of the page and she downloaded it, blowing up the portion with the man's face and cropping it. She sent it to her phone and looked at it carefully as it was uploaded. The man appeared to be in his fifties with pitch black hair. She reckoned based on the photo he was tall, over six feet, and had a large build. His jaw was wide and his features large. Apparently he was a member of the carnival staff but she could not gather from the webpage what he was responsible for. The carnival started in two days, she was not sure what was going on but while strange she did not see how it could be dangerous. She looked at the pile of cash, she supposed she would have plenty to play some games.

To be continued...