The Cold Moon (Lincoln Rhyme 7)

"I seen him, I guess, a couple, three times." She looked at the menu blackboard. "I can eat for free at the St. James. But I'm going to miss dinner. Since I'm here. With you."

"How 'bout I buy you some food?"

Gerte waved at the waitress and ordered.

"You want anything?" the waitress asked Sachs.

"You have herbal tea?"

"If Lipton's an herb, we got it."

"I'll have that."

"Anything to eat?"

"No, thanks."

Gerte looked at the detective's slim figure and gave a cynical laugh. She then asked, "So that guy who killed himself--did he leave a family?"

"That's right."

"Tough. What's his name?"

A question that didn't instill confidence that Gerte would be a source of good info. And, sure enough, it turned out that she really wasn't any more helpful than Sonja. All she recalled was that she'd seen him in the bar about once a month for the past three months. She too had the impression that he'd been hanging out with the cops in their back room but wasn't positive. "The place is pretty busy, you know."

Depends on how you define busy, Sachs reflected. "You know any of the officers there personally?"

"From the precinct? Yeah, some of them."

As the beverages arrived, Gerte recited a few first names, some descriptions. She didn't know anybody's last name. "Most of 'em who come in're okay. Some're shits. But ain't that the whole world? . . . About him." A nod at Creeley's picture. "I remember he didn't laugh much. He was always looking around, over his shoulder, out the windows. Nervous like." The woman poured cream and Equal into her coffee.

"Sonja said he had an argument the last time he came in. Do you remember any other fights?"

"Nope." Sipping coffee loudly. "Not while I was there."

"You ever see him with any drugs?"

"Nope."

Useless, Sachs was thinking. This seemed like a dead end.

The bartender drew deeply on her cigarette and shot the smoke toward the ceiling. She squinted at Sachs and gave a meaningless smile with her bright red lips. "So why you so interested in this guy?"

"Just routine."

Gerte gave a knowing look and finally said, "Two guys come into the St. James and not long after that they're both dead. And that's routine, huh?"

"Two?"

"You didn't know."

"No."

"Figured you didn't. Otherwise you woulda said something up front."

"Tell me."

Gerte fell silent and looked off; Sachs wondered if the woman was spooked. But she was merely staring at the hamburger and fries coming in for a landing on the table.