Leo studied his empty glass for a moment. Then he lifted a finger and one of the servers who’d ignored Henry’s every effort to order a glass of water immediately materialized with another bottle of whiskey. Leo poured some whiskey into his glass, sloshing some onto the table, which seemed a real shame to Henry—it was good whiskey.

“You’re drunk,” Henry said. Leo didn’t respond. His attention was on the stage, where a change in music indicated that a new show had started. Henry turned his head to look, and recognized the stripper with devil horns from the other night. A cheer went up when she walked on, a popular act, apparently. She put a hand around the pole and took flight around it, her brown hair lifting behind her as a version of “Frankie and Johnny” started up. It was Johnny Cash, off of The Fabulous Johnny Cash. Henry had it on vinyl.

Frankie and Johnny were sweethearts

Lordy how they did love

They swore to be true to each other

As true as the stars above

He was her man

He wouldn’t do her wrong

The stripper lifted one long leg and stretched it up along the pole until she was in a standing split. Then she leaned back into a backbend. Her breasts stayed perfectly upright, her nipples pointing skyward. You had to admire the athleticism. Johnny Cash! Wait until he told Archie about this. The stripper opened her knees and bent over. Henry felt a warm buzzing in his nuts. He shifted his position a little, and glanced around for Claire. The buzzing continued. His phone. Of course. He pulled the phone out of his front pocket and glanced at it wearily. The caller ID said it was coming from the morgue. Henry pushed his chair back from the table and stood up, lifting the phone to his ear. “Yeah?” he shouted, one eye still on the stage.

I ain’t gonna tell you no story

I ain’t gonna tell you no lie

Johnny left here ’bout an hour ago

With a gal named Nellie Bly

A voice mumbled something on the other end of the phone. Henry put his finger in his other ear. “What?” he said loudly.

“It’s Robbins,” Robbins yelled. “Where are you?”

The stripper winked at Henry.

She said, “He’s my man. But he’s doin’ me wrong”

“Give me a minute,” Henry shouted into the phone. He opened his wallet, glanced around for Claire, and then laid a twenty-dollar bill on the edge of the stage.

She’s taking her man to the graveyard

But she ain’t gonna bring him back

She shot her man

Because he was doin’ her wrong

“Henry?” Robbins shouted.