Latoya: Episode IV - Zodiac Nightclub Secrets

 

 

When I went to pick up Medgar, the head waiter at the Zodiac nightclub informed me that he had left twenty minutes ago.

"Was he alone?" I inquired.

The head waiter shook his head.

"He had one of our dancers with him," he said, and judging by his expression, it seemed he wasn't too pleased about it.

Knowing Medgar's penchant for women, I had a hunch I wouldn't see him until the following morning. So, I headed back to the Empire Hotel on Baltimore Street. I wanted to have another conversation with Devon Weaver, the bartender, but to my disappointment, I found the bar closed.

My attention shifted to the reception clerk, who was casually flipping through an Ebony magazine.

"What's your name again, sir?" I asked, leaning against the front desk and offering him my Marlboro cigarette.

"My name is Stephen," he replied. "I don't smoke, but thanks."

"I believe I've seen your bartender somewhere before," I mentioned. "Remind me of his name."

"Devon Weaver," he responded.

"I understand he used to work at Henry's bar at the back of the Zodiac nightclub, is that correct?"

"Yes," Stephen confirmed, his gaze fixed on me with a hint of curiosity or suspicion. "He joined us about a year ago."

"Could you tell me when exactly he started working here?"

"I believe it was last September," he said. "Why the interest?"

"So he wasn't here when Miss LaToya was staying here?"

"Miss LaToya?" Stephen set aside his Ebony magazine, looking somewhat puzzled or wary of my questions. "You mean the dancer who disappeared?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Devon Weaver told me he knew her."

"Are you inquiring about Miss LaToya?" Stephen asked.

"Indeed," I replied. "I wouldn't be here otherwise. I'm covering the case for the Baltimore Star. How long was she a guest here?"

Stephen pulled a leather-bound register closer to him and began flipping through its pages. After a moment, he said, "Our records show that Miss LaToya checked in on August 9th and vanished on August 17th."

"Did your records indicate whether she settled her bill before leaving?" I inquired.

"Not at all," he responded. "In fact, she owed us forty dollars. I doubt we'll ever see that money."

"What happened to her belongings?"

"The police took them," he explained. "She didn't have much, just a suitcase and a small handbag."

"I realize this question might be rather personal," I said, "but I have to ask anyway. Did she have any visitors?"

"Nope," he replied. "She didn't receive any mail either."

"How about telephone calls?"

Stephen shook his head.

"A few days after her disappearance, some girl asked for her," he mentioned. "Other than that, no one inquired about her while she was here."

"Do you happen to know who that girl was?"

"Not really,” he replied, "Actually, she came in and asked if Miss LaToya had been found. I informed her that Miss LaToya hadn't been located yet, and she requested that I contact her if Miss LaToya did show up."

"Did you inform the police?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," he responded.

"Did you report this girl you mentioned to the police?"

"Why would I do that?" he asked. "It was already troublesome enough to have them swarming around here in the first place. It's detrimental to our business. This hotel is losing money, and we can't afford to upset our customers."

"Do you recall the girl's name?"

Stephen turned to the last page of the register, removed a card clipped to the page, and handed it to me. I examined the card and found the following address:

Breonna Adams

40 Calhoun Street, Apt. A

Baltimore, MD 21223

 

"Thank you," I said, slipping the card into my pocket. "Is Devon available? I need to speak with him."

"Devon doesn't reside here. He has a room on Fulton Street."

"Do you know his house number?"

"Number 23 Fulton Street. Why do you ask?"

"I may need to interview him," I explained. "That's part of my job, so you needn't worry. Well, I suppose I'll call it a night. I'll see you in the morning."

I left him in bewilderment and returned to my room. Just as I was about to drift into a deep slumber, my door swung open, and the light turned on. I sat up, blinking, to see Medgar standing in the doorway.

"Jesus H. Christ! Can't you let a guy sleep?" I grumbled.

"Sleep?" he exclaimed, stumbling over to the bed. "Give me a break! You should be up and working like me. Men! This drink really got to me."

He collapsed heavily onto the bed and let out a sigh.

"My dear friend, Emeka," he began. "I have some good news for you. LaToya had a boyfriend."

"Are you certain about this?" I asked, sitting upright. "Were you able to locate him?"

"No, I haven't," he admitted. "But I have a very detailed description of him. I knew a girl like LaToya couldn't have gone through life without a boyfriend. It's against the laws of nature, you know. Anyway, I struck up a conversation with the heavyset girl at the Zodiac nightclub. She goes by the name Kareena, but I suspect it's Anika or Rihanna, or something like that. You get the idea. But she's quite the character: very loyal, no inhibitions or restraints, if you catch my drift. And she sure does love money, oh my God!"

"I'm aware of that," I said impatiently. "So, what did she tell you?"

"Kareena mentioned that none of the girls knew much about LaToya. It wasn't that LaToya was too proud or rude, but she had her own dressing room and kept to herself. About a week after LaToya started at the club, Kareena saw her talking to a man in a car parked at the far end of the alley behind the club. Kareena couldn't see much of the man; he had his hat pulled low and was wearing dark sunglasses. Kareena found it strange that he wore dark sunglasses in the dark. He drove a fancy car, a gray BMW convertible."

"Well," I interjected, "that doesn't necessarily prove he was her boyfriend. He could have been asking for directions or something."

"I thought the same thing," Medgar said, rubbing his eyes. "Don't think you're the only smart one here, okay? I'm smart too, and I've discovered that I have a natural talent for detective work. Anyway, Kareena saw this man two nights later. He was talking to Lamar Hooke in the stage door office, and she got a good look at him. After he left, she asked Lamar Hooke who he was, and he didn't know, but he mentioned he was waiting for LaToya. I didn't want to forget his description, so I wrote it down."

"To be honest, Medgar," I remarked, "I'm surprised you remembered to write it down in your current condition. That's not like you. Well done. Now, can you explain how you managed to make it back here in your current state?"

Medgar smirked as he took out his wallet and handed me a sheet of paper.

"Kareena brought me back," he recounted. "You see, she's not a bad girl. She considers her clients as investments and always takes care of them. Now, listen to this: she affectionately calls me her 'cash cow.' Isn't she adorable?"

"Just put Kareena aside," I advised. "Let's focus on the description of the guy."

Medgar glanced at the paper, puzzled, and then remarked, "This is odd. It appears I've written this in Spanish."

"You have it upside down, you goofball!"

Medgar flipped the page over and chuckled, "You're absolutely right. Anyway, according to Kareena, LaToya's boyfriend is a white British guy, standing over six feet tall, lean, and sporting an eyebrow mustache. What's unusual is the tattoo on his forehead, a design I've never seen before. He was wearing a sparkling blue jeans jacket, a white t-shirt, and a gold chain around his neck. Not to mention a tight black rubber band on one wrist and a gold Citizens watch on the other. My guess is he's around thirty-five. So, what do you think of his description?"

Taking the paper from Medgar's shaky hand, I folded it and placed it on the bedside table.

"You've done well," I commended. "We're definitely making progress. The police haven't been able to identify this guy, and we're ahead of them now. What else did you uncover?"

"Oh, my!" he exclaimed. "Isn't that enough for one night? After sharing this, she abruptly changed the subject and started talking about her love affair with money. Trust me, once she gets going on that topic, nothing on earth can divert her."

"In that case, you should get some rest," I suggested. "Remember, your room is next to mine on the left."

"Wait a minute. What about you? You mean you didn't find out anything today?" Medgar inquired, scrutinizing me. "I shouldn't be the only one doing the heavy lifting, you know?"

"I gathered plenty of information, but in your current state, it won't be of much use to you. Just go to bed now. We can discuss everything in the morning."

"Good idea," Medgar conceded as he stood up. "A good night's sleep is what I need. Do me a favor, though: don't start working too early. I won't be the early bird catching the worm at this time."

"Medgar," I insisted. "Just go to bed!"

"You got it," he replied.

I turned off the light.

 

 

 

END OF EPISODE 4

P.S. Stay tuned for Episode 5, which  will be published here next Sunday.