At the bed-and-breakfast, there was one message for him. It was from Evan Hynes-Pierce, and the number was local.

25 - Dupont Circle June 27

25

Dupont Circle June 27

Starrell burst through the doors of the fast-food restaurant and bound up the stairs to the second floor. Dunne was in a booth at the back.

“I hate those cake-boys!” Starrell said and slammed his body into the booth. He pounded his hands against the tabletop.

They got to make noise, Dunne thought. That’s how they can tell they’re here.

“This white dude comes up to me and says, ‘Know what I like more than anything else? Chocolate blow pops.’ This shit’s too much, man.”

“And what did you do?” Dunne asked.

“Shit, should’ve messed him … . But I walked away from the fucker.”

Starrell grabbed French fries from Dunne’s tray.

“Did the drill. Looked around. Didn’t see him. Asked this freak behind the bar—man, he had all this metal shit sticking out of his body—if he knew this Raymond fuck. He says, ‘Oh, you looking for a daddy.’ I keep my cool and tell him the story. He don’t know Raymond either. He says, ‘Maybe I can help you tonight.’ I don’t think so, cocksucker.”

Dunne sipped his coffee.

“Don’t be looking at me like that,” Starrell said. “I didn’t say that. I just say thanks and I book. That makes three of these joints. And I ain’t liking it any better. Thought I saw a homey going into the record place next door. But if he see me, he wouldn’t know it, right? Not in these Joe College rags.”

Starrell was wearing dark slacks, dark shoes, and a white shirt with a collar. Old church clothes, he had explained when Dunne picked him up at the Bennington Gardens projects. What he wore to funerals. The gold chain, the dark sunglasses were gone.

“There’s two more bars around the corner,” Dunne said.

“Man, I bet he ran his squirrelly ass out of town. I should get me a burger.”

“I’ll treat you to some real food when you’re done. If there’s nothing at the first, you can go straight to the other one. Then meet me across the street. I’ll be upstairs at the Greek place.”

“Shit, you be stuffing your face, and this hungry nigger’s starving.”

“See you in forty-five minutes. Remember, don’t rush in and out. Stay for a few minutes in each one. Okay?”

Starrell nodded.

Dunne crumbled up the food wrapping on his tray and got up.

“And wait a minute after I leave before you do.”

“That’s heavy spy shit, man.”

Dunne checked his watch. Forty-five minutes exactly. No way, he thought, I’m going to have those personnel evaluations done for Grayton tomorrow. The door opened, and Starrell came in.

“First joint same as the others.”

“And the other?”