“The problem was that we were the first two black soldiers to pass the number two. When he saw me and Oliver he said, ‘Nigger,’ almost like he was a redneck from Mississippi. Oliver stopped and said, ‘What did you say?’ and the number two repeated the word. I watched while my buddy’s hand went to his pistol. He asked what maybe half a dozen times until that gun was in his hand and pointed at the SS man. The German repeated the word and Oliver shot him in the chest somewhere. The Nazi went down on one knee and Oliver took a step toward him. He asked the German what one more time. With gaspin’ breath he said, ‘Nigger,’ and Oliver emptied the clip into him.”

Meanie had poured me another few fingers of schnapps. I took a sip and again it tasted like spring.

“When I think about that day I remember the roar that came from the skeletons, the men and women that had seen that man murder thousands of them. They cheered his death. But what got to me was that not one American, black or white, tried to stop Oliver. And Oliver couldn’t’ve stopped himself for love nor money. That whole camp—from the Jewish survivors to that SS man who just couldn’t keep his mouth shut—none of us could do any different.”

After a few minutes of Meanie cleaning, me sipping, and the men in the corner laughing at one thing or another, Meanie asked, “They said that you were askin’ about Craig Kilian the other day.”

“Craig’s dead.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He was shot in his own apartment. Anyway he hired me to find a guy named Alonzo and a woman, probably going by the name Donata Delphine.”

“You still lookin’?”

“I took his money.”

“But there’s nobody to report to.”

“I like to do the jobs I’m asked to do. That way I feel a sense of accomplishment even if it was all for nothing.”

The barkeep considered my words in deep self-reflection.

“Well,” he said. “I don’t know those names, but Kirkland Larker and Craig been thick as thieves for the past two months. If anybody knows, Kirk does.”

I was thinking about the phrase thick as thieves when I asked, “What’s Larker’s thing?”

“He got drummed outta the army four years back. Two and a half of them he spent in Leavenworth.”

“For what?”

“Thievery. They gave him a dishonorable discharge so the regular VA didn’t like him but he had some friends in the bar. Seems like he was a pretty good soldier when he was out in the field.”

I showed Meanie the picture Brock gave me, the shot of Donata Delphine.

“You ever seen her?”