The Little Death by Michael Nava

Author:Michael Nava [Nava, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery, Detective, gay
ISBN: 9781555838300
Google: AMU3iYzGCk8C
Amazon: 1555838308
Publisher: Alyson Books
Published: 1986-01-02T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Louis found Mel at Ta-boo, sitting alone in the back, bent over a plate of food that looked like something from Vinny’s autopsy table—paper-thin slices of red meat drizzled with a nasty-looking yellowish sauce.

Louis stopped at the table and looked down. “What is that?”

“Tuna carpaccio salad,” Mel said.

“How much was it?”

“For crissakes, chill out about the money, would you?” Mel said. “We just put fifty grand in the bank.”

Yuba, the bartender, suddenly appeared. She looked a little like an abstract work of art, with her raven-black hair tied with a white ribbon, smooth brown skin against a snow-white blouse, lips and nails the same flame red as the orchid in Osborn’s house.

Louis stepped aside to let her fill Mel’s water glass, discreetly appreciating the curve of her hips and the faint, sweet swirl of what had to be some exotic Indian perfume. When she asked him if he wanted a drink, he felt like he had been caught leering and could barely manage a “No, thanks.” When she was gone, he turned back to Mel.

Mel had been given the assignment of chasing down background on the Archer ranch hands. Louis wondered if he had reached his confidential source at the Miami PD or even tried. From the looks of his deepening tan, maybe he had just wandered around the island all day. Lately, he hadn’t been quite the same dogged investigator Louis was used to working with. Maybe they needed a long night at a quiet bar somewhere to talk about that.

Mel popped the last sliver of tuna into his mouth and talked while he chewed. “Did you know there is an antique weapons store right here on the island?” he asked.

“Antique weapons?” Louis asked. “Like swords and shit?”

“Swords, helmets, firearms, everything. The kind of stuff rich guys collect.”

“Did you go in?”

Mel wiped his lips and discarded the napkin. “No, they were closed for lunch. But I got to thinking about what Reggie said about Durand getting that watch from one of his lady friends, and I started to wonder if maybe that sword Barberry took away was a gift. It would be nice for Reggie if we could connect that sword to some wealthy woman.”

“Or her husband,” Louis said.

“You know something I don’t?”

“Tucker Osborn has a whole room full of that military stuff. It’s like he thinks he’s Sir Lancelot.”

“Now, that’s interesting,” Mel said.

Louis looked at his watch. It was almost three-thirty. The store probably closed soon, and he wanted to get there before they locked up. It seemed especially cruel to waste an entire night waiting for the place to reopen with Reggie Kent in jail. Louis hadn’t mentioned it to Mel, but he was worried about Kent’s safety. Really worried.

“Come on,” Louis said. “Let’s go now.”

“Cool your jets, Rocky,” Mel said. “I saved us some trouble. Antique appraisers can’t evaluate anything unless they see it.” He held up a manila envelope. “I walked over to Swann’s office, and he got us a good photo of the sword.

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