“Perry Mason. I’ve seen every one, and read all of Sherlock Holmes. Mr. Mason and Mr. Holmes are the best teachers in the world. My astrology experience has also prepared me to become an investigator.”
“I’m not hiring you to follow the stars,” said Calvino.
“But, Mr. Calvino, the stars follow you.”
“I need a surveillance detail on a stall in the covered market across the street. You report who’s buying pills and who’s delivering pills.”
He passed a slip of paper with the stall address on it over one of the astrological charts on the desk. Naing Aung looked at the address, tapped a long little fingernail against the side of one of the bronze bowls where the final embers of some incense sticks smoldered, and nodded.
“That would be the stall of Mr. Thiri Pyan Chi. He’s a very important man.”
“You know him?”
“I know everyone who lives and works on 27th Street.”
“Your dreams must get kinda crowded.”
“Sometimes there’s a traffic jam,” said Naing Aung. “How many days do you want me to watch him?”
“Three days. And I want you to report on everyone who comes and goes, and their activity. Got that?”
“All day??
?? He rubbed his chin, squinting at his diary, flipping the pages and clicking his tongue. “I have so many appointments.”
“What time does the market open?”
“Early morning.”
“When does it close?”
“Five in the afternoon.”
“After hours, does anyone go in or out?”
“It’s locked up.” He tapped the diary. “Tomorrow, for example, I have an appointment with a client at 11:00 a.m.”
“Change it.”
The astrologer used his long pinky finger to lift a fallen ash from the bronze urn and dropped it in the wastebasket.
“But it’s an auspicious time. That can’t be changed.”
“Can you get someone to work with you?” asked Calvino.
Naing Aung thought that was a strange question. An astrologer was plugged into the cosmos through his superior psychic powers. Such powers were never shared with another astrologer. That was bad luck and bad business. By extension and logic, a private investigator should handle the details of his clients personally.
“I prefer to work alone.”
“But you have appointments. And you can’t be in two places at the same time. I’ve walked around the market. There’s an entrance from 27th Street and another entrance in the back where the trucks, cars and motorcycles park.”
“Or I could retain my appointments and sit right here,” Naing Aung said, gesturing at his window, which looked down at the street, “and watch the market.”
He was quite proud of himself for coming up with a clever solution.
“That’s what Sherlock Holmes would do. He’d stay close to the scene and observe from a distance so as not to expose himself.”
“He had Watson.”