Ryan Jahn - The Last Tomorrow

‘According to his neighbors he’s a regular.’

‘Could be.’

‘Was he here yesterday?’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘What about today? Have you seen him today?’

‘No.’

‘When’s the last time you remember seeing him?’

‘Days all blend together. Why you looking for him, anyway?’

‘What do you care?’ Carl says. ‘You don’t even know the guy.’

‘Curiosity.’

‘Look how that turned out for the cat.’

‘What cat?’

‘He killed someone,’ Friedman says.

‘I don’t believe it.’

‘That’s the thing about reality,’ Carl says. ‘It’s there even if you shut your eyes.’

‘Who’d he kill?’

Carl lights a cigarette.

‘Maybe you answer our questions.’

‘When’s the last time you saw Dahl?’

The barkeep exhales through his nostrils, looks away. After a while he speaks: ‘Few days ago. Thursday I think.’

‘Notice anything unusual about him?’

‘Like horns growing out his head or something?’

‘Did he seem wound up?’ Carl says.

‘Wound up?’

‘Nervous.’

‘No, he seemed himself. Met a dolly. Been meaning to ask him how it went.’

‘This girl anyone you knew?’

The barkeep shakes his head. ‘She was from out of town.’

‘How far out of town?’

‘East Coast. Did Gene really murder someone?’

‘We aren’t here cause of his tickling habit,’ Carl says.

‘Does he meet a lot of women?’

‘Women like him,’ the barkeep says, ‘then they hate him.’

‘That’s how it goes.’

‘Do you have any idea where he might be?’

‘No.’

‘Friends? Relatives?’

‘Gene drank alone. Like I said, he sometimes left with a girl on his arm, but he always arrived by himself.’

‘And he never talked about anything?’

‘Never about anything personal.’

‘What did you talk about?’

‘Impersonal stuff.’

‘And he never mentioned any friends?’

‘No.’

Carl pulls out a card and slides it across the bar.

‘If you see him, call.’

The barkeep looks at the card but doesn’t reach for it. Simply lets it lie there.

‘If he’s on the run I don’t think he’ll be stopping in for a drink.’

‘Nobody asked for your thoughts.’

‘If you see him, pick up the phone.’

Carl butts out his smoke on the bar and turns toward the door.

3

They step from the bar and make their way through the rain to the car. Carl lights another smoke, already beginning to feel the itch. He thinks about the syringe in his pocket, but knows it’s too early to use it, knows he needs to wait. Except that an itch needs to be scratched before it’ll stop. The more you try to ignore it, the less you can focus on anything else, and he needs to be able to focus on work. He thinks about heading to the toilet, but tells himself no. It’s only been a few hours and the day stretches before him long and gray; if he uses now he’ll have nothing for later. He only brought enough for one shot.

A knocking sound pulls him from his thoughts. He looks up to see the redheaded woman from the bar standing just outside the car.

Friedman rolls down his window. ‘Get in back.’

She steps into the backseat and pulls the door closed behind her.

‘Either of you got a cigarette?’

Carl taps a cigarette out of his packet, lights it using the cherry from his own, and hands it back to her.

‘Thanks.’

‘Is that all?’

‘It’s a cigarette. You want me to give you head?’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘Do you have something to tell us about Eugene?’

‘I might. You got five dollars?’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Trish. You got five dollars or not?’

‘I might. Trish what?’

The redhead takes a drag from her cigarette. She looks out the window.

‘Forget it,’ she says.

Friedman pulls a leather wallet from his inside coat pocket, removes a five-dollar bill. He holds it out to her but when she reaches for it pulls it back.

‘Now you know I have the five dollars,’ he says. ‘Let me know you have something worth it.’

‘I used to date him.’

‘Did you? Candlelight, all that?’

‘Fine, I used to fuck him.’

‘And?’

‘And he took me to this nigger bar down on 57th Street where his friend was playing in a bebop band.’

‘And?’

‘And give me five dollars or I go back to drink my drink.’

Friedman hands her the five-dollar bill.

1

Evelyn, wearing only her silk nightgown and a cotton robe, her hair mussed, her eyes red from lack of sleep, knocks on the door in front of her. After what feels like a long time Lou pulls it open from the inside. He wears black slacks and an undershirt, his pale feet bare, and small for a man of his height. Greasy strands of pomaded hair hang over his Neanderthal brow.

‘Have you seen this?’

She thrusts today’s paper forward, holding it out for him to examine.

‘I’ve seen lots like it.’

‘They didn’t catch him.’

‘What?’

‘Eugene. The police didn’t arrest him.’

Lou takes the paper from her and silently reads the news story. When he’s done reading it, he hands the paper back to her and shrugs.

‘So what? They know who he is and they have evidence against him. That’s all that matters.’

‘What do you mean, that’s all that matters? He’s still out in the city and knows he’s been framed for murder.’

‘They’ll catch him today or tomorrow. He’s a goddamn milkman, Evelyn, in way over his head. It don’t matter if he knows he’s been framed, he’s been framed. The evidence points to him and he ran, as a guilty person would. When they catch him he can say whatever he wants. Denial won’t mean nothin.’

‘And if they don’t bring him in in the next day or two?’

Lou shrugs again. ‘I don’t care. I got nothing against the guy. Point was to make it look like he was responsible for Teddy Stuart’s murder. That’s been done. What happens to him now, whether the police catch him or he gets away, that’s got nothing to do with me, and it’s got nothing to do with you.’

‘He knows I framed him.’

‘He knows he was framed. He might not know you’re behind it. But say he does, you really think he’ll come after you?’

‘I think he might.’

‘He’s wanted for murder. He’s on the run. He’s not coming after anybody.’

‘What if he does?’

‘What if he. . I don’t know, Evelyn. What do you want to do?’

‘Get a room in a different hotel.’

‘If everything goes well we’ll be out of here day after tomorrow anyway.’

‘You’re not the one at risk here.’

‘You’re not either, and if I thought you were you’d know it, because if you’re at risk, I’m at risk. Your dad would kill me dead if I let anything happen to you.’

Evelyn is silent. What Lou says has the ring of truth to it.

And yet part of her also knows that Lou wouldn’t mind at all if she took two to the back of the head. Until she started working in the business it looked like Lou might take over once Daddy retired. Now it looks like Lou will be working for her, and a man like Lou doesn’t want to take orders from a woman. She doubts Lou would want to take orders from anybody. He planned on inheriting the business. He spent years working for Daddy, getting close to him, becoming his most trusted friend, and in she wanders, all of twenty-one, and puts everything he’s worked for into question. Evelyn thinks he’d be just fine if her blood went still. He might look sad at the funeral, hug Daddy and tell him it’s a great loss for everyone, but in the privacy of his home he’d celebrate her death with a shot of something strong and a thank you, Jesus.