Free Eight Million Ways to Die by Lawrence Block Page B

and say the same damned things all the time and meanwhile out there all the animals are killing each other. We say Don't drink and go to meetings and we say The important thing is you're sober and we say Easy does it and we say One day at a time and while we natter on like brainwashed zombies the world is coming to an end.
    I thought, My name is Matt and I'm an alcoholic and I need help.
    When they got to me I said, "My name is Matt. Thanks for your qualification. I enjoyed it. I think I'll just listen tonight."
    I left right after the prayer. I didn't go to Cobb's Corner and I didn't go to Armstrong's, either. Instead I walked to my hotel and past it and halfway around the block to Joey Farrell's on Fifty-eighth Street.
    They didn't have much of a crowd. There was a Tony Bennett record on the jukebox. The bartender was nobody I knew.
    I looked at the back bar. The first bourbon that caught my eye was Early Times. I ordered a straight shot with water back. The bartender poured it and set it on the bar in front of me.
    I picked it up and looked at it. I wonder what I expected to see.
    I drank it down.

    Chapter 7
    It was no big deal. I didn't even feel the drink at first, and then what I experienced was a vague headache and the suggestion of nausea.
    Well, my system wasn't used to it. I'd been away from it for a week. When was the last time I'd gone a full week without a drink?
    I couldn't remember. Maybe fifteen years, I thought. Maybe twenty, maybe more.
    I stood there, a forearm on the bar, one foot on the bottom rung of the bar stool beside me, and I tried to determine just what it was that I felt. I decided that something didn't hurt quite so much as it had a few minutes ago. On the other hand, I felt a curious sense of loss. But of what?
    "Another?"
    I started to nod, then caught myself and shook my head. "Not right now," I said. "You want to let me have some dimes? I have to make a couple of calls."
    He changed a dollar for me and pointed me toward the pay phone.
    I closed myself into the booth and took out my notebook and pen and started making calls. I spent a few dimes learning who was in charge of the Dakkinen case and a couple more reaching him, but finally I was plugged into the squad room at Midtown North. I asked to speak to Detective Durkin and a voice said, "Just a minute," and "Joe? For you,"
    and after a pause another voice said, "This is Joe Durkin."
    I said, "Durkin, my name is Scudder. I'd like to know if you've made an arrest in the Dakkinen murder."
    "I didn't get that name," he said.
    "It's Matthew Scudder, and I'm not trying to get information out of you, I'm trying to give it. If you haven't arrested the pimp yet I may be able to give you a lead."
    After a pause he said, "We haven't made any arrests."
    "She had a pimp."
    "We know that."
    "Do you have his name?"
    "Look, Mr. Scudder--"
    "Her pimp's name is Chance. That may be a first or last name or it may be an alias. There's no yellow sheet on him, not under that name."
    "How would you know about a yellow sheet?"
    "I'm an ex-cop. Look, Durkin, I've got a lot of information and all I want to do is give it to you. Suppose I just talk for a few minutes and then you can ask anything you want."
    "All right."
    I told him what I knew about Chance. I gave him a full physical description, added a description of his car and supplied the license number. I said he had a minimum of four girls on his string and that one of them was a Ms. Sonya Hendryx, possibly known as Sunny, and I described her. "Friday night he dropped Hendryx at 444 Central Park West. It's possible she lives there but more likely that she was going to attend a victory party for a prizefighter named Kid Bascomb. Chance has some sort of interest in Bascomb and it's probable that someone in that building was throwing a party for him."
    He started to interrupt but I kept going. I said, "Friday night Chance learned that the Dakkinen girl wanted to end their relationship.
    Saturday afternoon he