‘When you went to the victim’s home to talk to her, other people were present.’
‘A few. It looked like a small party. Justin Young
was there. You know, the actor. Jerry Fitzgerald, the model. And another guy I didn’t recognize. Looked like a suit. You know, an exec.’
‘The victim attacked you?’
‘She popped me one,’ Mavis said ruefully, fingering the bruise on her cheek. ‘She started out just being bitchy. The way her eyes were wheeling around in her head, I figured she was pumped.’
‘You believe she was using illegals.’
‘Big time. I mean her eyes were like crystal wheels, and that punch. I tangled with her before, you saw it,’ Mavis went on while Eve winced. ‘She didn’t have that kind of power before.’
‘You hit her back?’
‘I think I got one in, at least one. She scratched me - those damn nails of hers. I went for her hair. I think it was Justin Young and the suit that pulled us apart.’
‘And then?’
‘I guess we spit at each other for a couple of minutes, then I left. Went bar crawling.’
‘Where did you go? How long did you stay?’
‘I went a couple of places. I think I hit the ZigZag first, the joint over on Sixty-first and Lex.’
‘Did you speak to anyone?’
‘I didn’t want to talk to anyone. My face hurt, and I was feeling lousy. I ordered a Triple Zombie and sulked.’
‘How’d you pay for it?’
‘I think . . . Yeah, I think I just entered my credit account on screen.’
Good. There’d be a record, time, place. ‘From there, where did you go?’
‘I walked around, bumped into another couple of dives. I was pretty blitzed.’
‘Were you still ordering drinks?’
‘I must have been. I was pretty drunk when I thought about going over to Leonardo’s.’
‘How’d you get downtown?’
‘I walked. I needed to sober up a little, so I walked. Took a glide a couple of times, but mostly hoofed.’
Hoping to spark some memory, Eve repeated all the information Mavis had just given. ‘When you left the ZigZag, which direction did you walk?’
‘I’d just had two Triple Zombies. I wasn’t walking, I was stumbling. I don’t know which way. Dallas, I don’t know the name of the other joints I went into, what else I drank. It’s all a blur. Music, people laughing . . . a table dancer.’
‘Male or female?’
‘A guy. Hung, with a tattoo, I think. Could have been paint. Pretty sure it was a snake, maybe a lizard.’
‘What did he look like, the table dancer?’
‘Shit, Dallas, I never looked above the waist.’
‘Did you talk to him?’