In BAR NONE A Murder On The Rocks Mystery, Jude Dillane, owner of The Corner Lounge on Tenth Street and Avenue B, is doing a favor for her friend and landlord, Thomas ‘Sully’ Sullivan. Sully is going to be late meeting a co-worker from the Big City Food Coop where he volunteers, and has asked Jude to give the man, Ed Molina, the key to his apartment.
As Sully picked up his drink and took a sip, his cell beeped. “Work. He pushed the button to answer it. “See what I mean.”
I moved down the bar to give him privacy while he spoke then returned a few minutes later when he clicked off and noticed the look of irritation on his face. “Trouble?” I tilted my head toward the now quiet phone.
“Could be. One of the guys in accounting, Ed Molina, asked if he could meet tonight to talk. Wants to discuss something important he discovered in the office.” Sully toyed with his glass. “Said he just missed me this afternoon and it’s important he see me.” He shook his head. “He sounded nervous, scared even. I tried to get him to tell me what’s on his mind, but he insisted we meet in person.” He checked his watch. “He’s driving down from the Bronx and coming to the apartment a little later. I need you to do me a favor.” Sully knocked back the rest of his drink. “I’ve got to go down to Saint Ann’s and see Aunt Mary tonight. It’s her ninety-second birthday.”
Sully’d been taking care of his mom’s sister for a while and tried to visit her whenever he could. St. Ann’s Home was downtown a little ways on the end of Grand Street.
“What do you need?”
“I told Ed to stop in here and you’d give him my key so he could let himself in if he gets here before I get back.” He took his key ring out of his pocket, removed his house key and handed it to me. “I should be home by eight, but if I’m not, he can wait upstairs.” He turned his glass upside down on the coaster and rapped his knuckles on the bar, signaling he was finished—something he’d done ever since I’d known him. “Ed sounded really antsy. So, be nice, okay?”
“Sure, but do you trust this guy?” I studied Sully’s face for a sign. “He’s not just looking to make trouble?” Every business had its malcontents and maybe this Ed was one of them. If not, what could be going on at the Food Coop that could be so dire?
“Yeah, I do, which is why I’ve got to hear what he has to say.”
I nodded in sympathy and tried to keep my skepticism out of my voice. “Alright. Stop in after he leaves and let me know what’s going on. I’ll buy you a night cap.”
He walked away from the bar and a shiver passed through me like someone had just walked on my grave. Sully reached the door, turned around and looked straight at me, almost as if he felt it too.
***
It was Thursday night, one of our busiest. My head bartender, Dean, joined me at eight, the start of the real cocktail hour and took over the main bar while I concentrated on the service area. The bar was three deep and the banquettes filled to overflowing. My long-gone Social Hour crowd were amateurs compared to all the young Lower East Side singles here now. They were the heavy hitters and serious partiers, out getting a head start on the weekend, texting on their smartphones like their lives depended on it, watching the door and straining their neck muscles to see who showed up next. No one seemed to date anymore, just had a series of casual hook-ups instead.
From my vantage point, I listened to it all, observed them texting, e-mailing and IMing. I could only imagine the contents. Probably all about hooking up. I’m such a throwback. I liked having a real boyfriend. Although, I could have done without a few from my past. It was nice going to dinner and a movie and actually talking. Of course, at my advanced age of thirty-four, I was the old woman in this crowd and one with a tough job: managing a bar.
Deciding to open the restaurant and bar is how Pete, my partner and I met Sully. Right from the start, Thomas “Sully” Sullivan, our landlord, had been good to us. Better than good. Letting us slide on the rent every once in a while when we were just getting started. Telling us he was happy to have a thriving business in his building, especially one that served unlimited Jameson. And, since I also rented an apartment upstairs, we became good friends, then more like family. We helped each other out. So, giving his buddy Ed his key, and maybe a drink, was no big deal.
Ed showed up in the middle of this mayhem and introduced himself. He seemed nervous and jumpy, like Sully mentioned, looking over his shoulder and eyeing the door. I offered him a drink, but he refused and told me he’d wait for Sully in his apartment. Since the man was nowhere to be seen, I handed over the key and got back to work.
***
A while later, my cell rang and the caller ID flashed Sully’s name. “Hey. How’d it go with Ed? I thought you were going to stop by when you were done.” I figured Sully had made it back and already been upstairs with his pal.
“That’s why I’m calling. I’m not home yet, and I can’t reach him. I’m stuck here.” Frustration filled his voice. “We had cake followed by a rousing game of Bingo, which is still going on. These nonagenarians take a while to fill up their cards.”
I bit my tongue, suppressing a laugh, and managed to mutter a brief “uhhuh.” The idea of Sully sitting through a very slow game of Bingo with a room full of seniors was too delicious.
“I’ve been trying him for an hour, but Ed’s not picking up his cell.” He paused, and his voice took on a serious tone. “I’m getting a little worried, Jude. Afraid he got cold feet and left. Think you could run up and if he’s still there, tell him I’ll be back in about a half hour or so?”
“Sure. Meanwhile, maybe you’ll get Bingo. What’s the prize, a six pack of Ensure?” I clicked off before Sully could respond and signaled to Dean, my head bartender, I was taking a five-minute break. He nodded and kept working. I didn’t think the customers would miss me, not with handsome Dean around.
***
I left the bar and walked to the entrance of our apartment building a few doors down. The newly renovated elevator was waiting in the lobby, and I hopped in. I started to think about Sully as it made its way to the top floor.
Sully, a Lieutenant Colonel in the Marine Corp fought in Operation Desert Storm in the first Gulf War with the Marines and saw action in the battle of Kuwait. He retired with a chest full of medals and ribbons, plus a full pension, which he combined with what he’d saved over his twenty-five years of service. It added up to quite a tidy sum, and he purchased my apartment building and the one next door, two ten-story Renaissance Revival fixer-uppers most people would have steered clear of. Sully’d seen their potential and bought when property in our neighborhood was still cheap and squatters still occupied Tompkins Square Park across the street. He renovated the apartments and gambled that the neighborhood would ultimately change for the better. It had paid off.
I knocked softly on the door of Sully’s 10th floor apartment, not wanting to spook his pal. “Ed?” I knocked again. “It’s Jude, Sully’s friend from the bar. He wanted me to tell you he’s sorry he’s late. He’ll be here soon. Ed?” No answer.
I felt like an idiot standing in the hallway speaking to a closed door. Better go in and check if he’d been here and gone. Maybe left a note. Then I could call Sully back and tell him not to rush home.
I pulled out my keys from my pocket and found the spare Sully had given me for emergencies. This didn’t qualify as an emergency, just a good deed. I put it in the lock and the tumblers turned over. When I pushed the door open, it was dark, with only a little moonlight coming in through the living room window. “Ed?” I walked in the room and flipped on the light, bathing the space in a warm glow.
A half second later, I was sorry I had. A scream worked its way up from my chest and flew out my mouth. It took me a moment to process what I was seeing. Then I screamed again. Ed’s body was draped on the couch under the living room windows. It looked like he’d shot himself in the temple and took out the left side of his head. Blood was everywhere, sprayed across the couch and pooled on the floor underneath, like some bright red abstract painting. Its metallic tang made my stomach lurch. And right in the middle of it all was the big black revolver that had done the job. I backed away, hand over my mouth, to keep back more screams and the bile rising in my throat.
Ed was there all right, and he was as dead as the empties from the bar at last call.
***
Bio:
Cathi Stoler’s Murder On The Rocks Series features The Corner Lounge owner, Jude Dillane and includes, BAR NONE, LAST CALL and STRAIGHT UP. She’s also written the suspense novels, NICK OF TIME and OUT OF TIME and the Laurel and Helen New York Mysteries. She is a board member of Sisters in Crime New York/Tri-State, MWA and ITW. You can reach her at www.cathistoler.com, on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/CathiStolerAuthor/ on Twitter at https://twitter.com/cathistoler or on Instagram at @cathicopy
BAR NONE A Murder On The Rocks Mystery is available at
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Coming in October: LAST CALL A Murder On The Rocks Mystery
It’s New Year’s Day and Jude is cleaning up after last night’s celebration when she discovers the body of a man with a knife through his heart in the dumpster out back. She recognizes the victim immediately—it’s Michael Bevins, younger brother of her customer and neighbor, Art Bevins. Devastated, Jude becomes even more horrified when she learns that Michael is the latest victim of the New Year’s Eve Serial Killer whose horrible crimes stretch back almost twenty years. Determined to find this monster, Jude risks her life as she gathers evidence that leads her closer and closer to the killer and the staggering truth that he may be someone very near to home.
