John Lutz - The right to sing the blues

"He revealed her whereabouts in a hurry, all right," Frick said, "but for free." Astoundingly, he gave a sudden, soft giggle. A woman's laugh. "That fat man talked and talked. Faster and faster. In fact, he kept talking till nobody was listening, till he couldn't talk anymore."

Nudger swallowed dryly. He forgot about breakfast. Fat Jack had been a bad businessman to the end, dealing in desperation instead of distance. Maybe he hadn't had enough of the blues during the past several years, and too much of the good life; maybe he couldn't picture going on without that life. That was no problem to him now.

"You better pack, my friend," Frick said, gently patting Nudger's shoulder. "Train north pulls out on time."

Both men turned and left the room.

Nudger closed the door behind them. He looked at his Amtrak ticket in its red-and-blue folder. He looked at his bare feet. He looked at his wristwatch. There was plenty of time to catch the train. In fact, he had much of the day to kill. But he didn't feel like killing it here, or anywhere else where anyone connected with Collins or Sievers or Fat Jack or murder might find him. He decided to check out of the hotel, put his suitcase in a locker at the train station, and find some quiet place to eat breakfast where no one would bother him. Then he would walk around New Orleans for a while, listen to a little jazz played by the street musicians in the French Quarter, and maybe have a late lunch at the station before boarding the train for St. Louis and home and Claudia.

He showered, dressed quickly, and began to pack. Two days after Nudger got home, he found a flat, padded package with a New Orleans postmark in his mail. He placed it on his desk and cautiously opened it.

The package contained two items: a check from David Collins made out to Nudger for more than twice the amount of Fat Jack's uncollectible fee; and an old blues record in its original wrapper, a fifties rendition of "You Got the Reach but Not the Grasp."

It featured Fat Jack McGee on clarinet.