Chapter Twelve -- Now's The Time --

" You said it saved your life ..." I said sticking my finger through the bullet hole in the well worn lighter. 

No flint, no fluid, there was no way that Zippo should have worked. Ric had a pull on his drink, then spoke slowly as if choosing his words carefully. 

" First you should know I'm not dead ... not yet ... and neither are you, technically ... there's a few loose ends.

After the last set, if you're still here, well ... then that's it my friend, that's all she wrote." 

Ric stood abruptly to shake hands with Charlie Parker who was about to be introduced by Serge Trouserin. Choire the talking dog was draped over his arm, his rear paws dangled and his tail twitched.

" See it's not half bad down here at the Modern Lounge," said Ric sitting down next to me again, 

" The best of everything and all the greats.  Not what you were expecting, am I right? " I didn't answer. 

"I'm assuming you aren't ready." said Ric.  He didn't wait for my "Damn straight I'd like another sixty years and then die peacefully in my sleep -- if it's all the same to you.”

" Your Ginger ... she's been here past closing time, so the books would generally be shut on her, but the dog likes her.  There are a few up line managers we never see and of course the Guy upstairs,  but down here the Dog's in charge. He thinks she got a raw deal ... Don't ask.  Anyway, she lit up like a candle when she saw you and she wants to go with you." 

Bird winked at me from the stage and started to blow  'Now's the Time' on his alto sax. 

Dial 'L' for Lounge Chapter12 'Now's the Time'

Chapter Thirteen -- Not One Detail --

Ginger was waiting for me by the coat room.  She had changed from her Modern Lounge uniform, the ice blue satin, skin tight sarong, into what she had been wearing when she died ... a wet floral sun dress accessorized with matching wrist and ankle ligatures. Her feet were bare. 

  Like a pair of proper bridesmaids, Ric's girl (and his attempted murderess), Randy, and Sharon the coat check girl, main squeeze of the recently deceased drummer Harleigh Holmes were busy arranging Ginger's damp clothes and hair. There was discussion of removing the butcher's twine from around her neck. 

The dog insisted that not one thing ... not one detail could be altered from the way Ginger had arrived.

" Nothing added, nothing subtracted that's the way it always been. Plausible deniability and not a shred of evidence that there is and 'after ' " Choire said, studying Ginger for any possible trace of  the Lounge. 

" Did she come with that earring? " the dog inquired. Ginger confirmed that she had only been wearing one when she died ... the other had been torn out in the struggle.

My feelings of tenderness for lovely Ginger were replaced with blind rage for the son of a bitch who had done this to her. Dead was one thing ... this was altogether a different matter. 

" There'll be none of that Mixter " Choire said, never bothering to look at me. " the guy who did this is doing life without the possibility of parole and when he finally arrives I'll assign him 'back of the house' where he'll wash dishes without gloves in bleach water for eternity. " 

Dial 'L' for Lounge Chapter13 'Not One Detail'