The musical equipment had pretty much convinced me that this was the V. Ettin I was looking for, but then to confirm it I called the cell number I had for him and the phone on the coffee table vibrated but didn’t ring. The dog looked up but then kept on eating, and the phone moving on the coffee table, like a living thing, gave me a spooked feeling. So I hung up my phone, but Ettin’s phone, because of some delay in the system, still shuddered, like something twitching before dying, until it finally did stop. Then I got the hell out of there.

I took the train back downtown and then made the long walk east over to Avenue B. By the time I got to Lakes, which was at the corner of Eleventh, it was eight thirty. It was a dark, stripped-down place. It had a scarred wood bar, plenty of booze, three taps for beer, stools, some booths, and a jukebox. It wasn’t too crowded, and there was a man behind the bar but it wasn’t Ettin. This fellow was short and very skinny and had a shiny, shaved head. My head is shaved but I always leave it stubbly, using old-fashioned barber’s clippers. This guy went at his head with a razor.

I took a stool and for a moment I thought of ordering a beer. I wavered, then regained the old sober thinking, and when the bartender came over to me, I ordered a club soda. I gave him three bucks, sipped my drink, and he took care of some other customers. I wondered if Ettin was running late or wasn’t going to show up. I waited a few minutes, then I waved the bartender over, deciding to show him my full hand. I took out the picture of Lisa Weiss and Vincent Ettin, which I’d folded up and put in the Goodis novel.

“Do you know these two?”

“Yeah,” he said, wary. “What’s this about?”

“What are their names?”

“That’s Vincent and Lisa. What the fuck is going on?”

“I’ve been hired by Lisa’s family to find her. She’s been missing for a few days and she doesn’t answer her phone and neither does Vincent. Do you know where they might be?”

The bartender looked at me and then looked down the bar and out the window by the front door, not for any real reason except to avoid my eye. I took forty dollars out of my wallet and put it on the bar. I don’t know who I thought I was, but I had all the moves. Shiny-head saw the money.

“Tell me what you know,” I said.

“Lisa is missing?”

“Yes, and her family is very concerned.”