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hoarse laugh, then apparently couldn’t be bothered anymore and closed the door.

Chapter Fourteen
     
     
    Bobby knew of both places though he’d never been in either one. Moonies sat on a corner, it was probably a typical local neighborhood bar seventy years ago although he wasn’t sure what you’d call it now. Rough and shitty were two words that sprang to mind, parking was on the street.
    The place was dark. It was a sunny mid-afternoon outside but you’d never know it from inside Moonies. It took Bobby a moment or two before his eyes adjusted and he could make his way to the bar. He appeared to be one of three guys in the place including the bartender. The two guys on the paying side of the bar sat a half dozen stools apart staring at empty shot glasses and half-finished beers. Neither one bothered to look as Bobby approached the bar.
    The bartender walked down the length of the bar and gave him a look like Bobby was interrupting something important. He didn’t say anything and didn’t look too excited about new business.
    “I’m looking for a woman, Kate Clarken. I was told she might be here.”
    “You see her?” the bartender snorted.
    Bobby held his gaze for a moment. He looked around the place. The four booths on the far wall were empty and no one sat at the tables. Unless she was passed out on the floor, she wasn’t here.
    “Has she been in?”
    “What’s she done now?” he asked.
    “Nothing, I’m just giving her a lift downtown.”
    The bartender shook his head like he didn’t believe him, then walked back down the length of the bar bringing an end to the conversation.
    He headed three blocks west to Foxies. At least it had a parking lot, although he still parked on the street and went in the front door. It was a step up from Moonies, but not much of one. A little more crowded, maybe a half dozen guys none of whom were talking to one another, but then the business at Foxies was drinking and they were all attending to business as he approached the bar.
    “What’ll it be?” The bartender barked. She was a heavy-set woman, maybe late sixties. A sort of swirled hairstyle left over from the Kennedy administration and pink frame glasses with little rhinestones in the upper ends where the frame came to a point. He could smell the cigarette smoke coming off her from across the bar.
    “I’m looking for someone named Kate Clarken.”
    “Kate? Thank God, would you mind getting her out of here? She’s been here for a couple of hours. I got the day shift crowd due in here shortly and I don’t need any problems, not tonight anyway.”
    “Where is she?”
    “Her usual booth, back there by the juke box,” she directed.
    Two more customers had entered, but she didn’t pay any attention to them as they settled in on a couple of stools.
    “You’ll take her out of here, right?” She sounded hopeful as she came around the bar and headed toward the juke box. Bobby followed her to a corner booth.
    There in the darkest corner of the darkest booth sat Kate Clarken. Her eyes were half open, but she appeared comatose and looked to be drooling. There were three empty shot glasses on the table and a small glass with beer. The beer looked like it was warm and had gone flat.
    “Kate, time to go,” the bartender said.
    “Miss Clarken, I’m supposed to give you a ride downtown, for a deposition. They’re going to pay you.” Bobby added thinking that might instill some movement. It didn’t. He reached over to shake her shoulder.
    “Careful,” the bartender cautioned.
    “Kate, Miss Clarken?”
    She slapped his hand away and attempted to focus on him. “Who the hell are you? I ain’t bothering anyone.”
    “I know. I’m here to give you a ride, downtown.”
    “You a cop?”
    “No. You’re supposed to give a deposition, they’ll pay you, but I have to get you down there pretty soon, we’re already late.”
    This seemed to register.
    “And you’ll give me a ride?”
    “Yeah, and a ride back