I WALKED SOUTH along St. George St. until I got to Kings College Circle, then took that down to College St. It felt weird to be back at the university after so many years, but it was a day for nostalgia. I couldn’t help thinking about where that song took me when it played. Somewhere back in time to a different world. One where I got to reflect on all my past misdeeds.
There were a lot of them. I still felt a little sick, and I wasn’t hungry. But I knew Ray needed some time to look for whatever it was he was looking for.
I was halfway down University when I got a call. It was Sam Menzies again.
“Virtue, hi. Look, I wanted to warn you. There were a couple of guys in here asking for you.”
“Cops. Yeah, I know. I just got out of being questioned by them.”
“No, these weren’t cops. A couple of biker guys. Big ones too.”
“Bikers? Like leather vests, beards, chains?”
“Yeah, but no chains. They wanted to know where you lived.”
“Geez. Hey, you don’t know where I live, do you?”
“No. And I didn’t tell them anything, either. They didn’t even know your name. Just knew that you were the bouncer.”
“Huh. And you didn’t give them my name?”
“What? No. But they might figure that out. You may want to … you know, move.”
“Move?”
“Like, to Vancouver, or something. Any reason the local organized crime might be looking for you?”
“No. Not a clue.” Well, maybe a clue.
“Okay, well, sorry to keep calling you.”
“Thanks for the heads up.”
So, this was a new wrinkle. Wonder why the local Banditos might be after me. Could it have something to do with a song that made you want to cry? Unlikely … but it had been a weird day.
I bought a couple of Montreal-smoked meat sandwiches on rye with sauerkraut. They had these great dill pickle wedges, so I also grabbed a couple of those. I sat at the deli and ate my sandwich. Normally, I walk pretty fast, so I figured I should stall a little and give Ray some time to do his research. I still wasn’t sure where I was going with this lead, but it helped to have a little more insight into this weird bit of sheet music.
It was then I realized I’d left the sheet music with Ray. Whatever, I trusted Ray, and he needed it for his research.
After forty minutes, I headed back. He should have had plenty of time by now, and I didn’t want his sandwich to get too soggy from the kraut. Traffic was piling up on University, and was even busier by the time I got to College. The traffic problem in Toronto hadn’t changed much since I went to school here. I was glad I left my car down by Union Station. I hoped there was an upper limit on the parking fees.
The traffic was getting even worse by the time I got to Robarts. Looked like there was some kind of accident. There were a lot of cop cars and even an ambulance. As I got closer, it looked like there was some kind of commotion not related to the traffic.
As if someone had … an accident at the library.
I rushed back upstairs, past a police cordon, and almost headlong into one Detective Gordon McDonald. He put a big, meaty hand against my chest. It felt like someone hitting me with a catcher’s mitt.
“Oh, hello,” he said. “What was the name again?”
I sighed. “Virtue. Zack Virtue.”
“Right. Zack Virtue. Been out getting food, Mr. Virtue?” He gestured to the Druxy’s bag in my hand.
“Yeah, it’s for my friend.”
“Would this friend be Ray Holland?”
I sighed and looked at my shoes. “Yes.”
“Then you won’t be needing this anymore.” He plucked the bag from my hand and walked away.
I chased after. “Hey, detective! What the hell?”
He stopped. Turned. “Your friend appears to have overdosed on Fentanyl-laced heroin. He’s dead.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“No, not at the moment. Eye witnesses and security cameras have you leaving the building over an hour ago. Holland’s been dead for no more than 20 minutes.”
I slumped into a nearby chair.