THE PHONE WOKE me up. It was almost noon.
“Virtue! Are you awake?”
It was Lacroix.
“Hey, man. Yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. We’re all fine here. How are you?”
“Have you seen the news?”
“Assume I haven’t. Get to it.”
“They found a body at the Blue Noodle in Portsville.”
“What?” I sat up hard.
“Yeah, weird, huh? Didn’t you work there?”
“I was fired.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“Yeah, about the body. What happened?”
“They found one of the jazz musicians dead on the toilet.”
“Oh geez. King.”
“Who? No, some keyboardist. Name was Herbert North.”
“Oh. Weird. I saw him last night, I think.”
“Said he killed himself. OD’ed on pills, or something.”
I wondered if it had anything to do with Curtis King. King and the keyboardist were not friendly, and it looked like there was something going on between them.
“Virtue, you okay?”
“What? Oh, yeah. Thanks for the info. I’m heading back up there. Maybe I’ll check in with the club and see what’s going on. See if they need any help.”
“Hey, Virtue, stay out of it. You don’t need to be getting involved.”
“I know, buddy. Thanks for the tip.”
“It’s not a tip! Virtue, hey! Stay away from—”
I hung up on him. Figured he didn’t need to be involved either.
I immediately tried to recall the details of the dream before they disappeared. Hilltop, craggy shore, yellow-robed figure. Carcosa. Something in me stirred up a memory of that word. Something from my childhood.
My father, the English professor. He’d know. He put that word in my memory. I could call him. But I didn’t want to.
Instead, I called the Blue Noodle. I wanted to see if there was anything that tied this dead musician to my dream. Or to King.
It was Sam Menzies. “Virtue. Hey, I was just about to call you.”
“You were?”
“Yeah, sorry again for last night. She shouldn’t have fired you.”
“It’s okay, I would have fired me too.”
“I don’t know if you watch the news, but Herbert North, one of the house musicians, killed himself in the men’s room last night after the show.”
“I just heard about this. How’s everyone taking it?”
“That’s why I called. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, we’re calling everyone we can reach. Just to check in on them. You might get a call from the Peel Region police. They handle Mississauga and the surrounding area. They’re trying to get in touch with anyone who might have witnessed anything.”
“Okay, thanks. And …”
“What?”
“Obviously, I didn’t check the washrooms while cleaning up last night.”
“Don’t sweat it. You did way more than expected. Take care.”
“Yeah. Let me know if anything else happens, okay?”
“Will do bud.”
“Oh, and Sam …”
“What do you need?”
“Curtis King was staying in Toronto, right?”
“Yeah, at the Four Winds.”
“Swanky. Thanks.”
“Cheers, bud.”