Death in Diamonds Chapter 13 cont’d.

“I’d love to, an hour, hour and a half maybe, okay?” Vanessa asked.
“Perfect. See you then.”
“Marilyn will be here in about an hour. Marilyn St. Clair is another of today’s modern women who like Vanessa chose to keep her maiden name, or rather her birth name and not take their husband’s name when the married. Marilyn’s a smart attractive woman blond, five feet seven and a stylish dresser. She’s an administrative assistant in the Secretary of Labor’s office. Vanessa and Marilyn took an instant liking to each other the moment they met. By the end of the evening they were best of friends
Boyle called back. “Jake, it took a little persuasion but Terry finally decided that she does know of Julio Ramirez,” Boyle said. Terry wasn’t able to add anything to what we already know about Ramirez.
Bob Murdoch arrived at Timothy’s Pub and sat next to Jake. He had the ever present dead cigar stub clamped tightly between his teeth and a streak of gray cigar ash on his tie. I made the introductions. Bob and Lyons glared at each other like two cats waiting for the other to attack for a full minute without saying a word.
“What’ll you have?” Fred, the Bartender asked.
“Bud. You have it on draft?” Murdoch asked.
“Sure,” Fred, the bartender, said
“Bud, draft,” Murdoch replied. I told Fred, the bartender to put it on my tab.
We small talked for almost an hour while downing a few more Natty Boh’s. We talked about crime in the streets, Nationals baseball, what we each thought of the Redskins chances this season.
I turned to Lyons and said,” Corporal…”
“Corporal?” Murdoch asked. I told Murdoch about being in the Marine Corps with Lyons.
“Corporal, did you ever hear of a Julio Ramirez?”
He thought a minute then said, restraining a grin. “No, I didn’t.”
“I’ve heard of a Julio Ramirez,” Murdoch said. “He’s usually seen around Logan Circle. It appears to be his hangout. He’s a pimp, a fence, a hitter and a mean son of a bitch. Rumor has it he whacked his own brother.”


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