Free The Only Good Lawyer - Jeremiah Healy by Jeremish Healy

straw sticking straight up
in the tall glass. She let me taste it—kind of a pina colada
without the kick—before saying, "You need help with anything?"
    Ignoring the index numbers, I said, " Cha
gio and the com
ga xao xa ot ."
    Dinah looked at me. "You fight in Vietnam?"
    "Yes."
    Without writing down my order, she nodded. "My
husband, too."
    As Dinah limped back toward the kitchen, I had the
distinct feeling that she hadn't meant Chan.
    The singer on the music system changed over from what
I'd thought was Damone to a piece I knew to be Sinatra's. I watched
Chan sitting by the cash register reading a newspaper, his fingers
tapping the counter in time to the beat. I cleared my throat, and he
looked up at me. When I beckoned him over, his sigh was almost as
loud as the music, but Chan put down the newspaper and came to my
table.
    "You got problem with waitress?"
    "No."
    "She slow with leg, but—"
    "I don't have a problem with Dinah. You're the
owner, right?"
    He didn't like the twist this was taking. "Why
you want to know?"
    I took out my license holder, but just flashed it
open and closed. "I'm investigating the death of Woodrow Gant."
    Chan's lips were two thin lines. "I already talk
to all police."
    "Then why don't you sit down now, while I'm
waiting for my meal, and talk with me?"
    He was torn about something, but he took the
violin-back chair next to me. "I don't see anything that night."
    "Why don't we start with your name?"
    A stare, but he said, "I told you already.
Chan."
    "Mr. Chan—"
    "Just Chan. No 'Mr.'. "
    Okay. "What time did Mr. Gant arrive here?"
    "I don't know."
    I looked at him.
    Chan said, "I don't care what time customer
come. I care, do they pay before they leave."
    "When Mr. Gant arrived that night, did you
recognize him?"
    Chan shifted in his chair, the eyes blinking behind
the black-rimmed glasses. "I see him here before, yes."
    "With anyone?"
    "With woman."
    "Same Woman as that night?"
    "Yes."
    "How about any other women?"
    Chan shifted and blinked some more. "One."
    "Who?"
    "Don't know."
    "But did you recognize this other woman, too?"
    A stop. "She say she lawyer-woman, like him."
    "Like Mr. Gant, you mean."
    "Yes."
    "Was she black, also?"
    "No. Chinese, maybe, but I don't know her name
or nothing."
    "All right." I said. "Let's go back to
the night Mr. Gant was killed. Can you describe the Woman he had
dinner With?"
    "White American"
    "Color hair?"
    "Blond."
    "Eyes?"
    "She have sunglasses."
    "You think that was a little strange?"
    A shrug.
    I said, "For an October night?"
    Another shrug.
    "How tall was she, Chan?"
    "Don't know."
    "Was she taller than you, shorter?"
    He looked at me steadily. "Shorter than
lawyer-man."
    "By howmuch?"
    "Don't know."
    "Was she heavy, thin?"
    "No."
    “ No what?"
    "No heavy, no thin. In middle."
    "Medium."
    A nod.
    "You said you'd seen this woman here with Mr.
Gant before."
    More shifting in the chair. "Yes."
    "And yet 'medium' is the best description you
can give me?"
    "They sit in booth, not so much light. Who woman
is, that not my business."
    "Would it be your business to let her drive
after she drank too much wine?"
    "No! Never I do this."
    "Because you could lose your liquor license,
right?"
    "Have only wine-and-beer license."
    "But you could lose that if you weren't sure
somebody who drank too much wasn't driving, right?"
    Chan didn't answer.
    "So," I said, "if somebody had too
much wine, maybe like the woman that night, you'd try to sneak a peek
outside after they paid their bill, be sure the man was driving or
that she took a cab."
    "Woman drink wine, maybe. But she not drunk, no.
So I not look out door."
    I saw Dinah coming from the kitchen with a plate of
spring rolls. Noticing Chan sitting at my table, she seemed to falter
in a way I didn't think had anything to do with her bad leg.
    Then she continued in our direction.
    I said, "Who was their waitress that night?"
    Chan started to turn toward the swinging doors, then
caught himself. "Dinah."
    She was now at