Free Magician by Timothy C. Phillips

noticed.
    “You’re a big man. He was bigger, though. Maybe six foot five. And very dense, and strong, you could just tell by looking at him. He would come in here to pay the rent, and then just stay. He would talk and joke for hours. He was nice enough so that you felt bad if you were rude to him. So he would sit there and joke, and talk to the other people who came in. But then, one day he came in when I was here by myself. Now that, I can tell you, was a strange day.”
    “Do you mind telling me what happened, Miss Truss?”
    “Not at all. Like I said, I was by myself that evening, because everyone had stepped out. Almost like he knew that I was alone, here came Mr. Fain. By that time I had come to dread his little visits. Anyway, he comes in and starts talking. After a few minutes he realizes that I’m the only one here. He starts making these comments about how lonely he is. He tells me that he’s never been with a woman. Starts crying, right there where you are standing.”
    I tried to envision a burly giant who burst into tears in a real estate office. I thought for some reason of Horace Champion, sobbing in my own office. At the same time, I knew Vivian must have been terrified. She went on.
    “I was really getting uneasy, when finally someone came in. I told him to excuse me, so that I could help them. He left, still sniffling.”
    “Is there any way that I could get in touch with Mr. Fain?”
    “Not that I know of. I’m pretty sure that he left no forwarding address.”
    “Well, please give me a call if you remember anything.” I gave her my card.
    “That we will.” Vivian took it and rewarded me with another glowing smile. Then she walked me to the door and opened it for me. “Tell me, just what do you think Mr. Fain did?”
    I looked down into her eyes, indulging myself for a moment. Those were very pretty eyes. “Maybe nothing. I need to ask him some questions about something he might have seen.”  
    Like Georgia Champion’s feet sticking out of a bag.
    “Well, I’ve never met a private eye before. Are they all big, good-looking men?”
    I hoped my smile wasn’t too sheepish. “Just me and Philip Marlowe.”
    “Well, do keep me posted on the case. It’s all very interesting.” There was a hint of mischief in those lovely golden brown eyes.
    “I’ll do my best. Let me know if he shows up around here, okay?”
    “Now you’ve got me almost hoping that he comes back.”
    * * *
    As I pulled away from the curb, she was still standing at the door, with a slightly naughty smile.
    What cologne did I wear today? Sure is working.
    I thought again of Vivian Truss’ words. Tells me that he’s never been with a woman. Starts crying.
    I was left with the mental image of a man who was unstable. Could he have been in trouble in the past? I pulled out my cell phone as I drove back toward downtown, and hit a button on the speed dial.
    “Homicide.” The voice on the other end of the line was bored and brusque.
    “Is that your job or just your hobby?” I kidded my old partner. Detective Lester Broom was the biggest, meanest detective in Birmingham. He was also the man to go to if you needed information.
    “Roland. What’s shaking?”
    “Les, remember that five bucks you owe me?”
    “Do I ever. I’ll never play pool with you again. I never knew you were such a shark.”
    “Well, old buddy, maybe we can forget your huge debt. That is, if you can do me a small favor.”
    “Anything to keep you from breaking my legs.”
    I smiled at the image of me attempting that . Broom towered above me, and had the bulk to go with his size. His exact dimensions were subjects of considerable conjecture. I knew that Broom stood just an inch and a half below seven feet.
    “Let’s just say I’m letting you off easy. I need you to run a name through NCIC for me.”
    “Shouldn’t be a problem. Name?”
    “Samson Fain.”
    “Nice. Is that a stage name?”
    “Not as far as I know.”
    There was the audible