“Okay. You waited on Ms. Mars and Mr. Bellami tonight.”
“Kir Royale—that’s her drink. He stuck with mineral water, twist of lime. She ordered the caviar—toast points. He didn’t have any.”
“Have they been in together before tonight?”
“I never waited on him. Never saw him. She comes in a lot, meets people. She’s always nice to me, sometimes slips me some cash. She never pays—the tab, I mean. She meets people who pay the tab, but she’d slip me some cash sometimes.”
“What were they talking about?”
Now he looked pained. “I’m not supposed to talk about what customers talk about.”
“This time it’s different. This time it’s a murder investigation.”
Those nervous eyes popped wide. “Are you sure? Maybe she had an accident. Maybe.”
“It’s my job to be sure. Now, what were they talking about?”
“His play, I think. I sort of tune it out because, honest, you’re not supposed to talk about what you hear. But they were talking some about this play he’s producing—I think. And some girls, maybe something about illegals. His wife? Maybe? They would stop talking about it when I went up to them, so I didn’t hear all that much. They kept it down—she usually keeps it down. So did he—sometimes the other person doesn’t keep it down as much, but he did.”
“How would you describe them together? Friendly?”
Now he shook his head. “I guess not so friendly. She smiles a lot, but … He wasn’t real happy, if I had to say. He looked pissed—sorry, annoyed, a little mad. I guess maybe they argued some, but they kept it down.”
“Who left the booth first?”
“She did—I kept my eye on the booth in case they wanted another round. We were busy, but I kept an eye, and I saw her get up, head downstairs. Mostly she goes before she leaves—down to the bathroom, I mean. Then I was busy, and when I noticed again, he was gone. I checked my meter, and he’d paid the bill, so I bused the table.”
“About how long was that? When you noticed he was gone and bused the table?”
“I’m not real sure. Not that long. Five or ten minutes, I guess. Probably like five minutes, maybe. Another of my tables paid out, so I bused that one, and when I carried the tray over to the station, I sort of turned to say something to Bent—ah, Bentley behind the bar—and she … she bumped into me, threw me off, and I got my balance, but then I saw her, and the blood, and I dropped the tray. I dropped it, and then everything was whack.”
“Before that, did you notice anybody else go downstairs or come upstairs?”
“I don’t think I did. I try to keep an eye on my stations and none of my customers did, except Ms. Mars. I got—I got—I got her blood on me. See? When she bumped into me, I got blood on me.”
“Yeah, I see. What we’re going to do is get you a clean shirt, and we’re going to take that one in with us.”
“I didn’t kill her.” His face went sheet white, with high red flags on his cheeks. “I swear!”
“I don’t think that. I think you were doing your job. I’m going to get you a shirt, then you can go.”
“I liked her. She was always nice to me.”
“Just wait here.”
Once again, she went to Roarke. “That kid needs a clean shirt and somewhere to change. I need to take the one he’s wearing into evidence. The vic walked into him, got blood on him. He’s a little shaky.”
“I’ll see to it.”
“And one more? Would you get your manager to pull out anyone who paid their bill between eighteen-thirty and eighteen-forty-one?”
“All right.”
They cleared the bar until only cops and sweepers remained.
Gratefully, Eve took the coffee Roarke brought her in an oversized white cup and saucer. “Thanks.”
With it, she sat to organize her thoughts.