Disappearing Acts

Herculeah was trying to get Meat to go with her and her father for a pizza.

“My dad’ll drop us home right afterward. Call your mom and tell her you’ll be late.”

For once in his life it was the truth. It had been bad enough to hear Mike Howard’s cruel imitation of him—to hear that stupid remark made more stupid by Mike Howard’s imitation. “There’s a girl in the men’s bathroom” —pause, pause—“and she’s dead.”

But to know that Herculeah had heard it too was unbearable.

“Oh, Meat, you ought to feel good. You were proved right. There was a body!”

“And Mike Howard and his friend have been taken downtown to give statements. Don’t you want to know if they told the same story we heard? Dad can find out.”

Meat and Herculeah were sitting at a table in Funny Bonz, waiting for the investigation in the alley and men’s bathroom to be finished. Being in this room made Meat feel worse. After all, it had been on that very stage where he had stood and—

Chico Jones arrived then before Meat’s dreary thoughts could continue. Herculeah said, “Dad, Meat won’t go with us for pizza. Make him come. Arrest him.”

“I’m not hungry,” Meat told Chico Jones almost apologetically.

“Drop it, Herculeah. Meat knows whether he wants a pizza or not.”

“Well, maybe he doesn’t now, but when they set it down in front of us and he smells cheese and pepperoni and Italian meatballs, then he’ll want it.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to come?” Chico asked him, putting one hand on his shoulder in a fatherly, un policemanlike way.

Meat walked out of Funny Bonz with them, and after Herculean and her father got in the car, he started for home. Chico Jones’s car passed them and Herculeah honked the horn. He didn’t look up.

He had felt miserable many times in his life, but he could never remember feeling quite this bad.

He was replaying that terrible moment in the closet one more time, and he was so miserable he almost didn’t notice the girl who brushed against him.

He went three more steps before the realization hit him.

She turned. Her look wasn’t welcoming, but that didn’t stop Meat. He felt as if he had been looking for this girl all his life.

“You don’t know me, but I’m the person who found your wallet.”

“That surprises me.” She glanced over her shoulder. “A guy bumped against me and yanked my purse off my shoulder and ran with it.”

“Well, guess where he dropped it—in Funny Bonz. That’s spelled with a z.”

“Listen, would you mind showing me? I had some other things in my purse—some pictures and things. I’d really like to have them back. They mean a lot to me.”

“The police found a body in the alley, behind the Dumpster, and they’ve taken Mike Howard—he owns the place—and one of his friends to the station for questioning.”

Again she glanced over her shoulder. Meat looked too, but the street behind them was empty.

She shrugged. “It probably has something to do with drugs. Everything does these days. Drugs, drugs, drugs. That’s all you hear.”

“Oh, let’s walk by. You can show me where it is.”

Meat began to walk with her, though he didn’t want to. “Oh, by the way, I went by your apartment, and I’ve got some bad news.”

“Well, it looked like somebody had been in your apartment looking for something. There were clothes all over the floor and, well, it was trashed.”

Now came her first smile, though it wasn’t the kind of smile Meat liked to see on a girl’s face. Nothing anybody would want to paint and put in a museum. “Oh, it always is,” she confessed. “I keep my stuff like that. I can always find what I want.”

“Oh.” He was worried that he might look shocked, so he added quickly. “That makes sense.”

“Show me where this place is,” she said, looking at him. “What did you say the name was?”

“I wouldn’t ask, but those pictures mean a lot to me.”

Meat nodded. They walked in silence to Funny Bonz and tried the front door. Meat was relieved to find it was locked.

“Is there a side door?” she asked, her eyes wide with innocence.

Meat walked with Marcie Mullet to the alley. She was not as tall as Meat—he glanced behind at her as she turned into the alley—but she was wider.

“They found the body over there, behind the Dumpster,” Meat said.

“And, like I said, they took the owner and his friend down to the police station to give statements.

“This is the door.” Meat tried the doorknob. “Too bad, it is locked.”

Marcie Mullet stepped around Meat. With her back to him, she took something out of her purse and did something to the lock, and it opened with an ominous click.

She smiled over her shoulder. “That’s something my mom taught me.”

“My friend’s mom is a private eye, and she uses special tools.”

“I don’t think we ought to go inside,” Meat said, but she already was. He followed, though he didn’t really want to.

“You said the body was in the bathroom? Which way’s the bathroom? You’re going to have to show me. It’s so dark in here.”

Meat followed her into the hallway. He pointed down the long hall.

“I’ll check.” Marcie opened the door that said Guys and stuck her head inside. She looked back at Meat with real disappointment. “No, it’s already been cleaned.”

“Too bad about your pictures. You might check with Mike when he—” and then he stopped.

Meat suddenly realized that he hadn’t told her the body was in the men’s room. He’d said it was in the alley. And she wasn’t supposed to be looking for the body, anyway. And yet immediately she had gone to that door.

And with the knowledge came a feeling of great power and certainty.

This time it is I, not Herculeah, who is about to find the truth.

His feeling of power faded as Marcie Mullet started coming down the hall toward him.