Beginning - Chapter 8

   Speedy had Colonel Panic 'sent to bed' more often than not, for a couple of days now. Speedy had explained to him beforehand, that he needed him well rested and lucid. After two days of more sleep than awake, he was ready.

   They left early in the morning, and headed for the city. On the drive, Speedy explained how the interview would go.

   "Panic, no disrespect… interviewing witnesses is one of my things. I have my own technique built up over the years. I can't have you all excited and animated like you can get when you think you're close to finding something. I need you to stay quiet, professional, and calm. You know when you imitate my 'cop voice'? That's what I need you to do. Calm. Emotionless. Okay?"

   Panic answered in what was almost a monotone.

   "We're good, sir."

   "That's funny… that's just the character I need you to play… Also? No marching around the room getting animated. You march on the inside, but on the outside? You play it straight. Okay?"

   Panic gave him his best polite dead pan expression, and just dipped his head and nodded.

   "What, are you getting into character?"

   "What character, this is me."

   Speedy smiled.

   "You're being a comedian now, imitating a quiet gung ho polite cop. It's working."

   "There's nothing funny about interviewing a witness, sir. This is serious business. This is not dotting i's and crossing t's. Just because it's a shit detail? You have to stay focused. You have to bring your A game. Even for this little stuff. And… that's where results come from, sir. From staying on point, even when you don't think its important."

   "Sweet Christ. I know you do this shit by imitation… who are you imitating?"

   "Some buck sergeant I knew back in the service from when I was in tech school, sir. Sergeant Gung-ho. That's what we always called him. But you know something, sir? Over all the years, I came to understand and believe. I once missed something, because I took it lightly, because I thought it was unimportant. I will never make that mistake again. Sir."

   "That's pretty good… well, here's how I play it. We have a witness that's happy to finally have someone want their information. They feel helpless they found their friend, and he still got killed. They might be quiet, they might be a little excited. Either way? I like to ask open ended questions, just keep them talking."

   "We don't ask many questions?"

   "Not up front. You let them get themselves talking. Remember, they're not perpetrators. They're witnesses. To something horrible and it cost their friend his life. Getting them babbling is job number one. They usually dump everything they think might be important up front. Let them go… then, when we run out of ground to cover and re-cover? Only then do we ask for more."

   "Phrase everything at that point as open ended?"

   "Yeah. What's important? We'll have it recorded, we can comb through it later at our leisure. This… is a deer carcass, and we are going to strip every possible scrap of meat off of the bones. We make the jerky later. Okay?"

   "Good plan, sir. It's a pleasure to work with a man of your reputation and experience. I find it helpful to see how the pros do their job. I'm honored."

   Speedy's GPS guided him smoothly off of the bridge after the tunnels, and had him walk lanes over to the right hand exit and up the ramp. The hectic city traffic slowed down but stayed slow and thick. This was morning traffic, none of the craziness of evening city traffic.

   After they found the address, they were early so they circled a few blocks. Any block touching this block, Panic realized. Speedy explained he liked to get to it early, to have time to drive around. Get a feel for the neighborhood. This was better than middle class, this was upper middle class, just like the victim. It made sense, as Speedy explained his logic.

   "Panic? When I give you the signal… that's your time. You can go back over anything, enter a new line or even style of questioning. When I'm done, you can go over the carcass. We have all day and all night if need be. Sometimes people that have experienced any kind of trauma, they can take time to open up, or just to relax and become helpful."

   "What's the signal, sir?"

   Speedy smiled, and tugged his ear, then tugged his other ear, then the first one yet again. Like he was fidgeting.

   A woman in jeans and a clean, new looking T shirt and jogging shoes answered the door. Speedbump used his real name, and introduced himself. Then he added…

   "But, everyone calls me Speedy. My friend here? This is Panic. I hope you don't mind my bringing my associate with me, but, he's sharp and I like the way he doesn't miss much. Is that all right?"

   "Speedy? You can have the entire force over for a back yard BBQ, if you think anything will come of it."

   She gave a weak smile that seemed if not genuine, it at least seemed as if her motivation for the fake smile was genuine. She threw the door open and walked off through the foyer and into the great big living room.

   "Honey! They're here!"

   A man came up from the basement, rubbing his clean hands on a seemingly clean rag. It seemed fairly obvious they were married, but Speedy slipped in…

   "Would you and your wife prefer the living room, the fresh air out back, whatever makes you the most comfortable…"

   "Hell, I'm making an early snack on the grill soon. Come back on the sun porch…"

   The wife followed her husband's lead naturally, and the four of then went to the back sun porch.

   Speedy true to his word, took the lead and asked them to at first… just talk. Give them a description of what happened. Told them to start way before, all through, and well after.

   They each added little things as they passed back and forth taking the lead in the description. Like any married couple, they could just about finish each other's sentences and anticipate where the other would go.

   When Speedy asked for open ended descriptions of the dark SUVs buzzing around, they gave similar descriptions they already knew from the police reports back in the day. The husband snapped his fingers, and reminded his wife about their DVD breakthrough.

   They had been watching movies a couple years after the incident. Some big SUV filled with baddies was trailing and swooping down on the good guys in the middle of the movie. They both agreed, that somehow? That shot, that scene, that angle, that lighting? Best captured it. Somehow. Speedy carefully looked at the DVD case they showed him, and said he would get a copy and watch it to be thorough. They said he couldn't miss the part, it was before the big gun shootout in the movie.

   Speedy open ended a much more thorough but extremely gentle talking between the two of them about how disoriented the friend had been. On the phone calls. After they found him. How long he was in whatever state of recovering from his fright. He kept notes in his tiny spiral wound notebook all investigators seemed to always use.

   Nothing about the friend being gay came up in conversation. Speedy didn't push it. After nothing new seemed to get added or likely to be added, he started in on how these two met. Wanted them to tell about themselves.

   Turned out, the wife had been high school friends with the victim. She was friends with what was now her husband. He admitted he was friend-zoned by her in high school and just stayed the course. Actually made the effort to become real friends with her. Then, the three of them ran around the last two years of high school together.

   These two went off to college, and the victim although he could have finished college, after a whole year he quit and started working. Ended up landing a job as a cleaning and maintenance crew gig at a nice plant to work for.

   The husband gently poked his wife into it…

   "Honey? Tell them about him…"

   "Oh, okay. Look… we were friends in school, and, well… he kinda came out to me. I didn't care, I'm a girl. We just ran around together. If it matters? He… he was the kind that acts like a regular guy. Just a quiet guy is all."

   Speedy acted like it was nothing.

   "Okay. He wasn't a… queen or whatever its called. He was a closet regular guy. It's fine… I had a… well, my one uncle was gay. Growing up? It wasn't a big deal in our house. Feel free to describe everything about him. I wanna know all there is to know about this good friend of yours."

   "Well, after me and him ran around a while, this one here starts hanging out with me, which means he's hanging out with poor Bobby, too. We got called the three musketeers."

   The husband smiled, remembering him and his wife's childhood buddy.

   "Yeah. She wanted to be around Bobby, I wanted to be around her, so… next thing I know? I'm hanging out with Bobby myself. We were all pretty tight."

   The wife smiled.

   "How long before you knew, hun?"

   "Oh… I suspected before I knew. I didn't really care. I won't lie to you, Mr. Speed… at first? Bobby was just part of the package deal that came along with wanting to be around her… but it wasn't too long? He was just a really nice kid. He insisted on helping me with my Physics and Chemistry homework. Bobby was a science whiz. I did fine in book class, physics and chemistry? I had problems with lab classes… he carried me on that part."

   "So, in a way… Bobby helped get you into college, huh?"

   The husband smiled.

   "Yeah. Pretty much."

   "So, I get the sense none of the three musketeers ever had any kind of issue?"

   The husband and wife team looked at each other and shrugged easily.

   "Nothing with us three. Look. I kinda started to suspect him, so, that made it easier. I didn't have to worry about him horning in on the girl I liked. He seemed to always be with her, it kept other guys from getting in time on my girl I wasn't with yet. Then? I got to feeling slightly guilty taking his science classes help, and I couldn't give anything back."

   "Oh, honey. You know you helped him out… tell them…"

   "Oh, all right. See, there's kids that are great in class, there's kids good in sports. I was kinda in between the two. I was never going to be a college star athlete, let alone ever go pro? But, all I needed was a second string bench warming position… carries the same full scholarship as a star."

   "So, you were kinda a jock…"

   "Kinda. Not a full blown jock. I didn't want to do the whole keg party every weekend thing, if you know what I was avoiding. I was interested in getting my ass through an expensive college for free. I… kinda used my sports buddies, to… you know, Bobby was cool with me, so… the jocks couldn't pick on him."

   "The three musketeers helped each other out, any time any way they could. You were close…"

   They both agreed.

   "So, after high school…"

   "Well. We each went to our own separate college. I went to mine on a sports scholarship, her parents could afford to just send her to a nice school. Us three got together every break and holiday we could."

   "But Bobby dropped out of college…"

   "Yeah. After a whole year, he wasn't into it, he said. He landed a really good job at the plant. Pay would go up year after year. As good as any union job. Great benefits… he went that route. We finished college."

   "So, the… incident. That was after college ended?"

   "Yeah. Me and my wife were an item by then. We both loved having Bobby around. It was her best friend, and, I guess mine too. We were on our way to getting married maybe someday. Life was good."

   "The three musketeers… early 20s… I'm guessing, what? Bars and clubs now and then?"

   The husband and wife nodded, that was about it.

   "We… took turns picking the bar or club. Bobby liked this one club. His kind of club, if you understand. I had a sports bar I liked, my wife liked this one place that did the wine and cheese and side dishes thing."

   "Makes sense to me. A sports bar, a wine and cheese bar… and a… what do I call it… a gay club, right?"

   They nodded easily.

   "No outstanding issues anywhere?"

   "No. Nothing. Life was going smooth for all three of us. Me and her were talking about getting maybe engaged, Bobby had a good job and a couple friends."

   "Anything else you can think of? Any… issues. Maybe, with Bobby and an ex-boyfriend at the club, anything?"

   They looked at each other. Shook their heads 'no'.

   "I have to ask… some people? They like to really run around when young. Different one night stand every other night. Other people? They just… wait and enjoy dating one person. And… some people… they do both. What kind of person was Bobby that way?"

   "Look… Bobby made a few older friends. One of them started taking him to the club. When he was 18. Now, don't go thinking they get kids drunk and older guys are… well, you know. It wasn't like that."

   "Then, tell me what it was like… trust me, I… have heard everything under the sun. I swear, nothing phases me anymore."

   The wife took over here. Smiled thin.

   "I suppose this is my area of expertise. Bobby… when you're 18, you're allowed into the club. You just can't drink. I think its obvious why he was allowed to hang around the club, and why he wanted to."

   "Sure… be around friends that understood him…"

   "Okay. Bobby… got to see many different… adult men, and, how they… handled their life. Bobby saw some guys married with children but out running around every weekend. Bobby saw secret closet guys, that used the alley door. And dramatic queens that danced around the office job. Some guys seemed to be doing too much coke and having a different guy every night."

   "Which one did Bobby pick?"

   "Bobby said he didn't want the closet, but, he wasn't going to be some dramatic queen. Friends might know, but, there was no reason that anyone else would need to know. He said he didn't want to be a coked up gay-bar hopper. He said he just wanted to find a boyfriend, and he didn't want to have a fake wife and fake family. He didn't want to run around."

   "I'm getting a sense Bobby was… shy and quiet. About everything."

   Husband and wife eyed each other up, and nodded. She smiled.

   "Look, I have to ask this. Bobby into… heavy drinking? Maybe blown out every weekend?"

   "Nah. Bobby was one of those couple/several drinks all night kinda guys. He got a buzz, he liked it, but… he had a good pace. He didn't get all hammered. Maybe New Years, that would be about it. He was just… totally… 'normal', best way to put it."

   "Again, I have to ask. I don't want you two to think I'm asking you to trample the grave of your friend, but, I need the truth. Could help me, I never know. Any drugs with Bobby?"

   "Aw. Like what 20 something didn't try coke a few times? It wasn't Bobby's thing though. Bobby had a good job, he was saving up for a quiet house in the country, that was his dream. Being single? Good job? He was going to get it quicker than married guys. I was kinda a little jealous about that. Wife, kids, car and house payments… it adds up."

   "No… I don't know. Ecstasy, Meth, Speed, pain pills, Heroin? Anything like that?"

   "Oh hell no. Bobby smoked a joint on Friday and Saturday nights out, that was about it. That wasn't even every weekend, cause of having a good job and all that. He really… wasn't into anything like that I can think of. We were the three musketeers, Mr. Speed… we would have known if there were any issues. I guess that's why it… came as such a shock to us…"

   "Bobby was… quiet about everything. 'Everything in moderation', was his saying. He said he didn't want to be rich, he just didn't want to end up poor. He wanted to date, but didn't want to run around. He wanted a 6 pack for the three of us, not a whole case. And… that's how he was. About everything. Quiet. Sane. Rational."

   "I'm sorry for your loss. I can tell you were three best friends. I know it hurts…"

   "Yeah. I can just close my eyes, and see him like it was yesterday. Bobby… dancing on the big dance nights at the club. I dance, but, not like Bobby and the wife danced, so, I would sit with Bobby's friends and watch these two. Bobby's either dancing… or taking a break with me. Cigarette in one hand, cranberry juice and top shelf Vodka in the other."

   The wife smiled, and almost wiped a tear away.

   "Yeah. Bobby hated cheap vodka. He even hated what he called fake cranberry juice. He made sure they had a gallon of real cranberry juice like he liked."

   "Cranberry, real thing, and top shelf vodka. No tequila shooters on Saturday nights…?"

   "Oh no. Bobby heard that cranberry juice, the real thing, made it easier to pass a piss test from work, if he got popped for a test. Remember, he didn't like risking a good job over a joint on Friday nights. Other than that? He was… well, all three of us jogged and were mild health nuts. Bobby jogged. Went to the gym regularly. Work, working out, good food, good friends… that was Bobby's recipe for a nice quiet life."

   Speedy gave Panic the signal. Panic's line of questioning didn't last long…

   "Can we have the bars and clubs you guys all went to?"

   "Well, the club is still there, it was the biggest place. My sports bar turned into an old man's bar, I didn't like it after that. Her place? Became a sushi only joint. The Club's all that's left of the three musketeer's happy haunts…"

   "People from Bobby's work come in with him?"

   "Yeah. Bobby and another guy dated quietly a while. No fights or big breakup, nothing like that. Hell, they still came to the club together even after splitting up, they were good friends. Naturally he was a regular fixture at the club. Maybe… one other guy was friends with both of them from work, but, he wasn't a regular. Short thin guy with a goatee, don't remember his name. Real quiet polite guy."

   Speedy was happy, and he got the signal back from Panic now. Panic didn't really have anything not already covered on his mind. The two of them sat politely and listened to what now amounted to bittersweet reminiscing their lost friend. When it wound down, Speedy gently eased them out of it, as gently as he had slipped them into the interview.

   Once in the car, Panic dropped his act. Speedy talked first.

   "You get anything out of all that, Panic?"

   "Not much we didn't already know or surmise. I believe them. I trust them. I feel like if they knew anything, they would tell us."

   "Same here… I was thinking about hitting Bobby's workplace, I already know from the report where he worked. I don't expect much. How do you feel about hitting Bobby's club afterwards? We kinda have to check the place out, see what its like there. What kind of crowd is there."

   "Do we… pretend to be gay, to try to fit in?"

   "Ah. No… as amusing as that would be? I don't wanna risk they smell a rat. We'd probably fuck it up, being straight. We won't know any secret codes, secret in jokes, nothing. We might as well walk in wearing badges we try that, I bet."

   "I just don't see… two straight guys walking in, you're flashing a state police badge, asking a bunch of questions… and everyone accepts us. They'll just shut the fuck up and be polite."

   "Let's hit the guy's workplace. Then, I got a plan to help out on us being strangers. Remember, we're here to help one of their own. I got a hunch? Bobby was well thought of at the club. Everyone else can't find fault with the guy."

   "I wish someone had a problem or an issue with the guy… or, I wish he had some issue."

   "I'm with you on that, Panic. An issue, of any kind? Would give me something to look into. A dime bag on the weekend? Come on, I can't work jack shit from that angle. Anything interest you while the interview is fresh?"

   "There's only one thing, and its probably a zero…"

   "What?"

   "In the back of my head? There's something about cranberry juice, I just can't for the life of me, remember what it was. My mom used to drink that stuff. I didn't like it till I was older."

   "Maybe, it's toxic in large quantities? It could have induced his disorientation?"

   "No, it wasn't that. Like I said, it means something to me, I just don't know what."

   They had basically nothing from work. No issues at work. No late slips. No missed days. No one remembered the slightest arguing or problems with the boys at the plant.

   The manager showing them around freely explained that every employee has a UIF. The Unfavorable Information File. Bobby's file? Was thin and anemic. The corporation insists on everything possible in the file, and the only issue really wasn't an issue, as it was explained to them.

   Apparently, Bobby and his work friend were working voluntarily through lunch break, because the guy that ran their section wanted to go over a few things and get things set up for after lunch. Efficiency.

   The department head had ordered them all pizza so they didn't really miss lunch. In the course of getting set up for the run after lunch, there had been a spill. Spills happen occasionally, its unavoidable. You were to try to be as careful as possible though, as some of the chemicals could be dangerous. This wasn't a particularly dangerous chemical, however.

   It was perfectly legal for the chemical to be flushed down the drain, so, they had turned on the sprinklers. It being lunch and all, it didn't really affect much. They had brushed it down the drains, and even had the drains flushed by the time lunch was done.

   A forklift had careened into a pallet of plastic drums of the routine chemical. It was an issue for one of the forklift guys, Bobby and his friend, to have had a forklift incident. But… as it turned out? The department head had been actually running the forklift.

   Manager explained you can't really freak out on a department head doing labor to help out through his own lunch break. It ended up a routine thing. No real problems, a non-issue.

   Christ, Panic thought aloud… the only 'trouble' this nice kid ever got in at work? Was trying to help out and go the extra mile. The manager agreed with him.

   "Yeah. The extra mile… I wish I had a dozen more 'Bobby's' working here. I was lucky I had him."

   They located the guy Bobby used to date and still hang out with as friends afterwards. He was about identical to the husband wife team. A good solid friend, a really nice guy. Wants to do anything he can to help.

   Speedy winked at Panic.

   "Anything?"

   "Sure… Bobby was a close friend."

   "Would you, take me and my associate to the club? Make a few introductions. We don't wanna be outsiders, we want people to know it's okay to talk to us. If it isn't a murder, I ain't interested in busting any-ONE for any-THING. See where I'm coming from?"

   "Oh, I got you. Not a problem. I'm off work in two more hours."

   "Okay… hey, who's this other friend from work here. The guy with no name and the goatee?"

   "Oh… he doesn't work here anymore. I'm pretty sure I know who you mean. He was my friend from work here, I was on maintenance in his lab. He's straight. Wife, kids, the whole nine yards. Guy never had a traffic ticket in his life, I don't think."

   "How were you guys friends?"

   "Eh, maintenance and cleanup has a lot of janitor kind of guys. Timmy liked me because I was careful around the chemicals, and if he told me to flush a line? I flushed the goddamn line. He noticed that, and got me a promotion. See, you can't mix acids and bases. It won't hurt anything per se, but, a little bit left in a stainless line? Makes for a slight impurity on the first barrel of product. 1/100th of one percent can sometimes be all the difference between our company, and some other company. If you can get it? You take it. This is a competitive industry."

   "Most maintenance guys wouldn't check that?"

   "Check it? Won't check it or do it, unless you hit them over the head with a fire extinguisher. See, most of the maintenance guys are just 9 to 5, 'I gots me a good job' type of guys… I had a year of college chemistry, I know to watch what I'm doing with chemicals. Timmy wants the line flushed? Timmy gets the line flushed."

   "And, you got Bobby the job, so…"

   "Right. So Bobby was on the same page as me that way. Timmy made us his personal maint crew. Timmy liked everything to be predictable and smooth."

   "What was Timmy like to work with? Work for, whichever…"

   "Quiet. Real quiet. Real polite. See, most of the department heads? Are kinda dickheads. Order you around… that wasn't how Timmy was. A department head, runs his own reactions. He's responsible for how much and how well it gets made. Most of them are dicks… Timmy treated us like we were fellow department heads. He treated everyone like that."

   "Anything else about him?"

   "He was careful. I mean really careful. You know the phrase 'measure twice and cut once'? Timmy said fuck that, you measure it three times. I guess you would have to understand. If one barrel out of a run, is only a fraction of 1% off purity? They know. The line codes on the barrels? They know who made it. They know which maint crew was working. Timmy always had about the best runs when we were reacting. Timmy said we made him look good. We said, Timmy made us look good. Win win."

   "Let me guess. The other crews, its kinda like the maintenance guys versus the suits, huh?"

   The worker calculated silently…

   "Something like that, yeah."

   There were no real issues with the other maintenance guys teasing them for being OCD about following orders to the letter. The guy agreed to meet them at the club, let them check it out.

   On the way to the club, Speedy's cell rang. The wife and husband were thinking what Speedy and Panic were thinking, that if regulars like themselves were there? Anyone that knew anything at all would trust them, and come forward maybe.

   "Panic, does anything seem off to you, other than fucking cranberry juice?"

   "Speedy. I just ain't… seeing anything in this guy's life that would get him killed. I'd say, that unless everybody is in on the big cover up, and I doubt it, then there is no cover up."

   "I'm with you. In my experience? A guy has to be into something to get killed. Or you gotta see something you shouldn't. You don't even have to know what you're into. But, you still gotta be into it, if you follow me."

   "Yeah, I'm following you. All I got is fucking Cranberry juice means something to me. I don't have anything to go on either."

   "Goddamned something went on, I'll tell you that. This isn't some made up story. A real guy, is really dead. The story about the coordinated team hunting him? Is solid to me. Multiple witnesses. You ain't fucking telling me, that we go from 'a bunch of people hunting him in matching SUVs', on main streets in broad daylight for Christ's sake… to he sleeps for 2 or 3 days, then just wanders off, and accidentally drowns, in dress clothes, in cold water in cold weather. I ain't fucking buying that load of shit."

   "What do we do? Do we lean on people? Offer a reward?"

   "Oh, all that shit's been tried, years ago. Bobby was no asshole everyone was happy to see gone, he was missed. Pressure was put on the police; they were being all they could be for that one. I asked around… cops were working it off duty. One was good at fitting in at gay clubs, he got nowhere. Another cop? Got his brother in law a job at that plant back there. Nothing ever popped up. Family and friends hired private investigators when they could afford it? Nothing."

   "Speedy, you have any gut hunches on this?"

   "Yeah. You know I do."

   "What are you thinking."

   "Okay. First off? This boy's death screams 'smiley victim'. But…"

   "But… the problem there is, he's other than manner of death, anything but a typical smiley victim."

   "That's what's bugging the shit out of me. The other victims? All straight. No rumors otherwise. This one? Played for the other team. All the others? Fast track college whiz kids. This one? Does okay one year, and drops out and gets a good job. Not smiley material. Yet… somehow gets smiley'd anyways."

   "We got two hours before we all meet up at the club, Panic. Let's stop at the old sports bar now it's an old man bar. I don't expect anything. Quick. Then we pop over to the wine and cheese bar that's now a sushi place. We both eat sushi. I want to email a few contacts about 'Timmy', you want to spend time on the internet?"

   "It never hurts…"

   "That's our plan then."

   They hit the old sports bar, and true to their information it was now an old man's bar. Everybody seemed 40+ in age. This was no hookup bar. According to everyone there, the place didn't really "get rocking" on weekends. More customers naturally, but, it stayed quiet. Prices were a little above what allowed trash to come in. Nothing.

   Sushi was predictable, it was an all you can eat sushi bar. Guys in dress clothes, obviously from offices around town. Women that were obviously office workers. A couple of middle class soccer mom types meeting for a quick lunch.

   Speedy played email tag with his state police connections. Panic decided to read up on the date rape drug. After the technical descriptions, he hit a few other drug sites. After reading for the umpteenth time all the technical information available, he drifted off into the non-technical information. Not the history of the drug, the unofficial history of it.

   When it was about a half an hour to meet up at the club, Panic offered up…

   "Speedy? When you get a chance?"

   "Oh. I'm good. What you got?"

   "Nothing, really. Probably coincidence…"

   "But a good investigator doesn't believe in coincidences easily. What…"

   "Well, drugs have an official history. Who first synthesized and discovered it. Who first discovered it does whatever."

   "Okay."

   "Our drug? Has a bit of an UN-official history. Reminds me of MDMA."

   "Ecstasy? How… ecstasy is a type of amphetamine derivative, and Gamma Boo-toe… that's a downer. Apples and oranges."

   "Yes… and no. Ecstasy, back when it was MDMA? Had a long history as a safe and effective research drug. It had a long history as a treatment for a lot of stress conditions. A lot of people used it in, what back then, was called shell-shock treatment. What today we would call PTSD. It took a long time, to break out into the party world. It was a respected treatment drug."

   "Whats that got to do with Gamma boo-toe…?"

   "Gamma was the same thing but different. It was an industrial chemical. Used for a couple decades as something to use up making other industrial chemicals. It took a long time to enter the party phase of the drug's life."

   "So?"

   "Both were legal and legit for a long time… they don't go illegal until word gets out and its a big party drug."

   "All right… until you have a problem, you don't waste money on law enforcement."

   "Yeah. There's another coincidence there."

   "What's that?"

   "The date it was made illegal. MDMA and Gamma… were in a class of drugs, legal for a long time, that went illegal. Both at the same time…"

   "What's the coincidence of that?"

   "Well, look at the date, see what you think…"

   And, Panic slid his laptop over.

   "Hm. That's… less than a year away from…"

   "Less than a year after… Bobby gets smiley'd…"

   Speedy smiled…

   "Another coincidence that means nothing? Gamma was a really popular gay dance club drug, before it turned into the date rape drug, in the news stories. Once it became the date rape drug, it went illegal quick once everyone knew it could be used for that."

   Panic smiled…

   "What was Bobby good at in high school? What did Bobby go to college for one year for? And, what did his friend at work go for, again, one year?"

   Speedy shuffled his papers…

   "Chemistry."

   Speedy smiled.

   "Where did Bobby and his friend work?"

   "Chemical plant…"

   They were both curious now.

   Speedy shuffled papers…

   "What are you looking for, Speedy?"

   "The other guy. The one from work that came with Bobby and his work friend. Only every once in a while…"

   "Why?"

   Speedy smiled…

   "He's the chemist. He ran the reactions. Tested everything for purity and efficiency. You thinking what I'm thinking?"

   "The chemist is a drug dealer?"

   "No, Panic. He wouldn't have been a drug dealer… not back then… it was perfectly legal back then…"

   "Well, Timmy the chemist is our next interview, I bet."

   "That's what I was thinking. Got a problem there."

   "Let me guess, Timmy's dead. Timmy drowned. Fly Fishing. In dress clothes. In January."

   "Not that I know of. But, I can't locate him easily like I can anyone else I want to. He drops off the map."

   Panic shrugged…

   "My gut likes to find Timmy then…"

   "Oh yeah. I wanna have a talk with Timmy the chemist. No doubt about it. He's dead… he's off the radar… maybe he moved out of the country…"

   "Well Panic, let's go hit the victim's favorite club…"

   They were on the edge of the south side. A lot of Pittsburgh had went to shit after the steel mill's heyday was gone, as did the south side. The south side had reinvigorated itself during what became known as Renaissance I period. Large old well built industrial buildings and hotels and warehouses were slowly converted to storefronts and bars and clubs and such. It became a fashionable place to hit on the nights and weekends, with the young and the hip crowd.

   Apartments and boutiques popped in predictably. It was a lot easier to get to the south side up the river highway without fighting the main traffic into the heart of downtown, and, it was readily accessible by bicycle or walking once you came over the edge of the "rim" that surrounded the city, and you crossed over one of several bridges. You could walk or bicycle from the city to party and back, all without risking a DUI. Specialty foods and small shops galore.

   This was one of two districts in Pittsburgh that had smiley cases. A long straight flat road of all businesses, many of them bars and clubs and restaurants, lots of young fashionable people. You crossed the highway, and you were on railroad tracks that went on even longer. Overlooking the river. They both already knew that there were multiple access points to the river galore.

   Panic explained that the south side was famous. The south side crawl was a favorite past time for young people out drinking, you were to go in a pack and hit "every bar" on main street down one side, then back again the other side. No one ever made it walking hitting every bar, there were just too many. You "crawled" before you completed your quest, hence, it was the south side crawl.

   Fashionable as well. Artist supply shops. Vintage clothes. Open air food market. Antiques and second hand shops, it was a yuppie paradise. Driving here and out was a lot easier and predictable than the main city. Rent was lower on both apartments and businesses alike.

   Panic explained that when Renaissance II happened? They saw what was going on financially re-establishing the place and they doubled down on it.

   They both noted the young crowd all over the streets, and this was during the week. Lots of nice bars and clubs. WiFi and cell phone signals with five full bars everywhere. The city itself had multiple high end colleges and universities. This was smiley's happy hunting grounds. The river they overlooked? Was the same river that wound it's way through many small towns to slowly end up at the University they had started this hunt out on.

   They parked near the club and wandered a block or two up from it. They both decided on a giant soft pretzel at a road side cart dealer. The young man and woman running the stand, let you see them making soft pretzels from scratch. They claimed the sweet pretzel mustard was locally famous, though they turned down jars of it with home made labels.

   If you had a couple bucks in your pocket? This was college kid and young yuppie paradise. A text from Bobby's workmate was incoming, and they walked back to the club. The husband and wife team were already waiting with him. All 3 waved as they came walking up, finishing their soft pretzels.

   You wouldn't even know it was a dance bar and club from the outside if you didn't already know. They went in the unlocked front door, pressing a buzzer automatically unlocked a door. The big hallway ended in a giant double door a high school or a large industrial building would be proud of.

   It was locked. The wife buzzed, and a face door slid over.

   "Anyone have a membership card?"

   The wife answered.

   "We're here to meet a friend."

   "Your friend have a name?"

   "Dorothy…"

   And the face door slid shut, and they heard what sounded like a big lock undone, and the double doors opened up into a large first level typical bar and club scene.

   The husband and wife smiled and held their arms out and slightly up for the obligatory metal detector passing over them quickly. Bobby's friend was right behind them and passed. Speedy and Panic just stood there. The tall man working the door was friendly but obviously the bouncer, and surprisingly well dressed for a bouncer at a big club in the city.

   "Hands up, boys. It's routine…"

   Speedy smiled and flashed his state police badge case. Held it open for the bouncer to see it, but, didn't hand it over. When the guy stared at it and nodded, he softly clapped it shut…

   "Me and my friend, we won't need that feature, sir… I can't go anywhere unarmed."

   The tall somewhat handsome door bouncer eyed Speedy and Panic up, then quickly smiled warmly.

   "Hey, no problem guys. Cops are welcome here."

   The husband shook hands with the bouncer…

   "Besides. You two are with members. If this is your first time here? Welcome to the fun house…"

   They stepped in past the now extra friendly door man, and he closed and locked the thick metal double doors behind them.

   The husband and wife guided them over to a table, and there were plenty to choose from. Big place. Nice place. Looked expensive. Looking around, it wouldn't even be obvious this was a gay club at first glance. It would just appear to be another upscale bar and club.

   Sitting at the small round table, the husband started…

   "You two might wonder what straight people would enjoy a gay club for, I was thinking…"

   Speedy smiled…

   "Not really. But, since you brought it up, go ahead."

   "Well… for one thing? There's no frat boy power drinking here. Prices are decent for such a nice place. They keep the riff-raff out. Fights and problems are really rare for such a big bar."

   The wife smiled her now signature thin forced smile…

   "I can come here alone, or with a couple other girls? We don't get smacked on the ass being without our men."

   The husband cut back in…

   "A guy doesn't have to worry about having the wife go out for the night. Plus? Never any trouble at a place like this… it's really laid back."

   Speedy nodded, it all made sense.

   A man in a very nice suit, looked to be late 30s walked slowly over to their table. Occasionally smiling and waving to someone he knew.

   "Hi. My name's Lawrence, everyone calls me Short Larry. Linda and Willy, what a surprise. I haven't seen you two in, what? It must be a couple months. How are things going?"

   The husband smiled…

   "It goes. You know how it is. Work and bills. A nice BBQ on the weekends."

   "Nice to see you two again. I see you two brought new friends. I don't believe we have had the pleasure of entertaining you boys here before. Welcome."

   Speedy nodded and smiled.

   "I want you both to know, that cops are as welcome as anyone else here. Cops need friends and a fun night out just like everyone else. Unless… you boys are here in… more of an official capacity? If so, I am the manager. Anything I can do for you, you just let me know."

   Speedy smiled again.

   "Thank you, Larry. This is unofficial. Me and my friend here? We are… looking into the Bobby case. On our own time…"

   Bobby's work friend came back from the bar with four bottles of soft drinks for all of them. He handed them out in front of everyone and gave himself the last one before he stood next to Larry.

   "Larry? I know the bouncer went and got you because of the badge and the metal detector. I just… wanted to let you know… these two? They're working the Bobby case. I just… wanted you to know… Speedy here assured me, they're not looking for anything else."

   Larry smiled…

   "Mr. Speedy? Discretion and no trouble, are the main things we want here. Some of the boys, well, they might have wives and kids at home. Workplace issues. I'm sure you understand the need for some level of… discretion."

   Speedy smiled.

   "And Larry? I just want to emphasize… we're here about the Bobby case. On our own time. If it doesn't concern Bobby, I don't care what goes on. I mean… if someone wants a whiff of coke in the bathroom, smokes a joint in the alley out back? I don't care about that stuff."

   Larry rolled his eyes somewhat dramatically and smiled…

   "Well. As a manager, I'm sure none of that goes on here, ever. But… welcome. Bobby was a friend. We all miss him. Bobby was one of our own…"

   And Larry held out his hand for Speedy to shake it. Speedy did, it was a firm, warm handshake. Larry winked at Speedy…

   "And… while I'm sure things go on… I just want you to know, this is not some coke bar. We don't put up with that shit here. No dealing drugs here, we don't want the problems it brings."

   "I understand, Larry. Again? If it doesn't concern Bobby's death… I don't care. I know what goes on in dance bars, I don't care about that. You have my word on it."

   Linda asked Larry the manager, if he could make sure everyone knew that 'the cops' were here only trying to help on the Bobby case, would he make sure regulars knew that it was okay to talk to them? Larry smiled and assured her he would do so. As if to prove it, he immediately walked over to talk to the nearest bartender. The bartender smiled and waved friendly like.

   When the soft drinks were getting low, Speedy offered to buy a round of whatever everyone wanted. The wife declared she would drive, hubby could have a few beers if he wanted. Bobby's friend nodded, a beer was fine. Panic shook his head no.

   Speedy went up and ordered four beers. Not really knowing what to get for everyone, he asked the bartender to suggest something nice. He brought back four expensive small brewery specials. Panic had gone up to the bar, and after Speedy was done, he asked the bartender if they had any real Cranberry juice.

   The bartender smiled and got him a large tumbler and a scoop of large ice cubes.

   "You… want anything in that?"

   "Top shelf vodka."

   "Small jigger or a large jigger?"

   "Small jigger."

   The man splashed the small end of the jigger full of top shelf vodka over the ice cubes, and filled it up from a gallon of Cranberry juice.

   "That was Bobby's drink, you know… I kind of overheard you at the table with Larry…"

   "I know. You knew him, then?"

   "We all did. He was a good customer, and a good friend. We miss him… I hope you can figure something out…"

   They had small talk, mostly about Bobby. Nothing stood out. Quiet polite kid. The drink wasn't that expensive for such a nice place, Panic thought.

   Speedy thought it was weird Panic actually had a drink, it was rare for him.

   "Is that cranberry?"

   "Yeah Speedy. The real thing. Little shot of top shelf in it. Figured I'd have a drink that Bobby always had…"

   Over the next two hours, the place started filling up some more, as mostly well dressed men came and went. Panic kept topping up his vodka cranberry juice with cranberry juice. To everyone else, he was obviously "drinking", but, no one but the bartender would know he wasn't getting drunk.

   Speedy was sure a little coke got sniffed in the bathroom, but as he told Panic on the sly… nothing out of the ordinary for any upscale bar and dance club. He didn't think there was any real dealing going on.

   Panic went for another cranberry juice fill up when Speedy went back to the table. Word had gotten around about them, and by one's and two's customers came up to the table. Talked about Bobby. Everyone seemed friendly and wanted to help.

   Panic eyed up several guys going out the back alley door, and waited a minute or two, then went out behind them. As he had wanted, he had surprised them in the act of firing up a small hand-rolled cigarette. He just smiled, and raised his 'drink' to toast them.

   They all looked at one another, and the one with it in his hand, smiled back and held it out for him.

   Panic nodded, and partook with them. He talked and sipped his drink with them. Another one produced a small pipe already filled up, and it got passed around next.

   It produced the effect Panic had been hoping for. Speedy was having the occasional beer, he obviously was 'drinking'. Now, he had surprised a couple of smokers and joined in. Everyone was obviously a lot more at ease now.

   Someone made a little joke about cops smoking weed, and the other guy reminded them what Larry had said. These guys were on their side, they just cared about Bobby.

   "For the record? My buddy's the cop… I'm just an investigator. But… I want all you guys to feel at ease around us. It's not like the pigs are raiding the place…"

   The pot had its effect, and the guys were joking about it. Someone made a joke about "vice" was raiding the place. They were laughing and joking much more easily.

   When they went to go back in, the one guy patted him on the shoulder, and said they would come and get him when it was 'time again'. They wouldn't say anything to the cop about it, if that was an issue. Panic assured them it was a non-issue, but, that would be great. They all went back in.

   When the place started to slowly fill up as early evening hit, more people still came over by one's and two's to either pay respects to Bobby's married friends, or to ask if there was anything they could do to help. Usually both. Word had obviously gotten around about the 'two cops'. Willy and Larry and Linda had obviously put everyone more at ease than a cop would normally be at a bar doing an investigation.

   Speedy confided in Panic, that this was not normal for a cop investigating a murder. These people were a lot more forthcoming than what he normally experienced. Speedy said, people that knew nothing still avoided talking to cops. No one wanted to be involved or bothered, typically.

   They both agreed, that having a close friend from work and the husband wife team that were musketeers, made all the difference. Speedy said that this was what 'community' was supposed be, pity that only the gay community was friendly and helpful when a fellow citizen got disappeared.

   Panic made a joke about Speedy's beers needing a "nipple" he was drinking so slow. Speedy smiled, and retorted that the bartender knew he was only topping up with cranberry juice in his highball and ice. When he had gotten Panic a drink and said to get his friend whatever he was having… he saw the bartender smile and just put cranberry juice in the highball with fresh ice.

   Panic's smoking friends went past, and the shoulder tap guy winked at him, to let him know it was time again. A larger crowd was heading out the back door as the place took on more business.

   "Go ahead with your pothead contacts, Panic. If I know one thing? I know that doing something with the locals, puts them at ease. They talking?"

   "Nothing major. But yeah, a lot of guys knew Bobby. It can't hurt."

   Speedy headed back to the table, to talk to the people that streamed slowly over to talk, and Panic went out to the smoke alley.

   Someone wisecracked.

   "Hey… here's your boyfriend again…"

   Everyone snickered. Panic smiled. Easy going banter and jokes was what he wanted. He wanted the boys at their ease.

   A fatter joint went around first with the bigger crowd this time of night. Panic held it in, and blew it slowly out his nose. He started talking after he passed the small cannon off to the guy to his left.

   "Hey guys, lemme ask you something. About Bobby… look, we know he smoked a joint on the weekends. Like you heard, no big deal. We're investigating the murder. We don't give three shits about anything else. Its cool, right?"

   "You guys are okay. Plus, you're here with Bobby's ex. And his friends he was always with. What you need?"

   "Let me go out on a limb. You can see I smoke a little… I bet some of you guys might have… smoked out here with him. Eh?"

   A couple of the guys nodded, yes, that was the case.

   "We can't get a line on anything Bobby was into, that could have caused his death. Anyone… know anything?"

   Nobody did. No one seemed shy about saying anything. Smoking freely with the locals was working its magic.

   "I heard, Bobby didn't like to do coke…"

   Tap shoulder offered…

   "He didn't. Maybe a line on Christmas or New Years, that was about it. And, I mean a tiny line. It wasn't his thing. Bobby? He liked to have a few hits off the joint, have a couple drinks, that was that. He was more about being social and dancing, than anything else."

   "Yeah, I heard Bobby was a dancer. Him and the wife in there were on the big dance nights…"

   One of the guys laughed…

   "So… no, Bobby wasn't sucking dick for crack in the bathroom…"

   Everyone laughed. Someone else offered…

   "Look. I'm sure you figured out by now? No dealing drugs here. House rules? Bring your own or share. Larry and the bouncers are big on that one. No one here wants any heat from that bullshit."

   "A joint, a couple drinks, and dancing…"

   "Well… that and a kiss or two from Gabby on big dance nights…"

   That had come from a guy behind Panic, who had gently moved him out of the way so he could enter the smoking circle in the alley doorway. He had grabbed him, gently, by his left back pocket of his pants.

   Panic smiled. After he hit the pipe now going around and exhaled…

   "He liked Gabby, huh?"

   Couple of guys laughed. One offered…

   "Hey. Everyone kissed Gabby. He got around…"

   Panic smiled and laughed it off.

   "Hey… you sure you're straight?"

   Panic smiled.

   "Last time I checked…"

   Someone else wisecracked…

   "There's only one way to check, Mr. Panic…"

   And everyone laughed. Panic didn't feel like he was being hit on, he felt more like he was being felt out. The more at ease he was around a bunch of obviously gay guys, without flinching, the more relaxed they became.

   The back door opened, and it was the big front door bouncer.

   "I'm off duty, girls…"

   And someone put the pipe in his hand. He handed it to Panic, who knew he had to hit it first. He was the one who came in with a badge. He hit it, held it in, and blew it out slowly. Handed the pipe back. The tall bouncer smiled and enjoyed a couple deep pulls.

   On the way back in, Larry the manager met Panic.

   "So, Mr. Panic… as you can see… everyone is on board with trying to help…"

   Panic walked with him, sipping his cranberry juice.

   "No Larry. Me and my associate? We both agreed, this isn't like an ordinary trip to the bar, looking for information. We aren't getting the cold shoulder."

   Larry smiled a half smile.

   "That's because the gay community sticks together. We believe Bobby was murdered, and the official investigation came out accidental drowning. Which we all think was bullshit."

   "Me and Speedy? We both think the same thing, that's why we're working it."

   Someone gently "moved" Panic again, once again by his back pocket. Gently. Well, he was standing in front of the hallway to the back alley door. He didn't think anything of it. His hand nonchalantly brushed to make sure his wallet was still there, it was, he didn't give it another thought. He didn't know who had "moved" him this time, as the crowd was coming back in from smoke break.

   By midnight, Linda and her husband were going home. They both had work the next day. Speedy was thanking them for their help. Bobby's workmate did the same, he had work as well.

   They stayed another hour, but, by 1:00 am it was looking like nothing more was going to happen. They left. Larry and the other doorman, another tall guy, both met them on the way out. Both shook both of their hands warmly. Larry let them know they were welcome back anytime, whether to keep looking into this, or, just to hang out. They both thanked both of them, and went out.

   Speedy drove them back down the river highway. They kept going over everything they had encountered, but, neither could figure they had gained much they didn't already know or surmise.

   About halfway down 837, Speedy pulled into a gas station. Panic took the opportunity to go in and get a 4 pack of energy drinks he liked. On the way back out, he was sipping his drink he had opened, and staring at a piece of paper.

   Speedy saw him eyeing the paper slip.

   "You get the wrong change?"

   "No. More like a date…"

   Panic handed him the slip of paper.

   "We should have lunch. Tomorrow. StakeWorx. Just up the street from the club. 1PM. Don't worry, I know your str8."

   Speedy wanted to know who had given him this. Panic explained the way he had been "moved" a couple times when he was blocking the doorway or whatnot. This had obviously been slipped into his wallet pocket without him noticing.

   Speedy thought about it…

   "You're going to lunch. Alone. I'll wait a couple blocks away. You're wearing a wire."

   Panic agreed.

   The rest of the way home, Speedy teased him about having "a date" from the club. Right as they pulled in home, Speedy told him…

   "Good work, Panic. Apparently, doing something like smoking with the locals put them more at ease with you, than me."

   Predictably, Bluedot and Speedy both teased him about it, until he went to bed.