Free Whispers by Dean Koontz

cut.”
    â€œBut you have injured yourself.”
    â€œSure. My lips a few times. Not often.”
    â€œBut that only makes the trick more effective,” the blonde said. “You should see him when he cuts himself. Otto stands there in front of the jerk who’s been causing all the trouble, and he just pretends like he doesn’t know he’s hurt himself. He lets the blood run.” Her green eyes shone with delight and with a hard little spark of animal passion that made Tony squirm uneasily on his barstool. “He stands there with bloody teeth and with the blood oozing down into his beard, and he warns the guy to stop making a ruckus. You wouldn’t believe how fast they settle down.”
    â€œI believe,” Tony said. He felt queasy.
    Frank Howard shook his head and said, “Well. . . .”
    â€œYeah,” Tony said, unable to find words of his own.
    Frank said, “Okay . . . let’s get back to Bobby Valdez.” He tapped the mug shots that were lying on the bar.
    â€œOh. Well, like I told you, he hasn’t been in for at least a month.”
    â€œThat night, after he got angry with you, after you settled him down with the glass trick, did he stick around for a drink?”
    â€œI served him a couple.”
    â€œSo you saw his ID.”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œWhat was it—driver’s license?”
    â€œYeah. He was thirty, for God’s sake. He looked like he was in maybe eleventh grade, a high school junior, maybe at most a senior, but he was thirty.”
    Frank said, “Do you remember what the name was on the driver’s license?”
    Otto fingered his shark’s tooth necklace. “Name? You already know his name.”
    â€œWhat I’m wondering,” Frank said, “is whether or not he showed you a phony driver’s license.”
    â€œHis picture was on it,” Otto said.
    â€œThat doesn’t mean it was genuine.”
    â€œBut you can’t change pictures on a California license. Doesn’t the card self-destruct or something if you mess around with it?”
    â€œI’m saying the whole card might be a fake.”
    â€œForged credentials,” Otto said, intrigued. “Forged credentials. . . .” Clearly, he had watched a couple of hundred old espionage movies on television. “What is this, some sort of spy thing?”
    â€œI think we’ve gotten turned around here,” Frank said impatiently.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œ We’re supposed to be the ones asking questions,” Frank said. “You just answer them. Understand?”
    The bartender was one of those people who reacted quickly, strongly, and negatively to a pushy cop. His dark face closed up. His eyes went blank.
    Aware that they were about to lose Otto while he still might have something important to tell them, Tony put a hand on Frank’s shoulder, squeezed gently. “You don’t want him to start munching on a glass, do you?”
    â€œI’d like to see it again,” the blonde said, grinning.
    â€œYou’d rather do it your way?” Frank asked Tony.
    â€œSure.”
    â€œGo ahead.”
    Tony smiled at Otto. “Look, you’re curious, and so are we. Doesn’t hurt a thing if we satisfy your curiosity, so long as you satisfy ours.”
    Otto opened up again. “That’s the way I see it, too.”
    â€œOkay,” Tony said.
    â€œOkay. So what’s this Bobby Valdez done that makes you want him so bad?”
    â€œParole violations,” Tony said.
    â€œAnd assault,” Frank said grudgingly.
    â€œAnd rape,” Tony said.
    â€œHey,” Otto said, “didn’t you guys say you were with the homicide squad?”
    The band finished Still the Same with a clatter-bang-boom of sound not unlike the derailment of a speeding freight train. Then there were a few minutes of peace while the lead singer made unamusing small talk with the ringside customers