5 Tutti Frutti by Mike Faricy Page A

Van Gogh was drinking it when he decided to cut his ear off.”
    “Gee, better make it a double then.”
    “ Okay.”
    “No, no , don’t make it a double. I know where that would be headed.”
    “You sure? I can.”
    “Very sure, thanks all the same.”
    It was a couple hours later when Swindle finally made her appearance. She wandered in dressed in the same outfit she’d worn earlier, so she hadn’t gone home to change. God only knew what she’d been up to, but she clearly hadn’t missed anything at the victory party. Joey Cazzo, Louie and Gino and Tommy D’Angelo were nowhere to be seen.
    The crowd had thinned to probably half its original size, which hadn’t been a whole lot of people to begin with. The buffet table was still in place, but the food had been on the warm-cycle for more than a few hours and appeared to have developed some sort of dried crust over everything. Heidi was flitting back and forth between a couple of small groups and Zipper Head the bartender.
    I was bored out of my mind and even though the people-watching was great it was beginning to get old.
     
    Chapter Twenty-Five
    “Hey, where’s the action?” Swindle asked. She’d made a beeline for the bar the moment she entered the room. At first I thought she might be okay. Now close up she appeared higher than a kite with wide unblinking eyes and dilated pupils that glared at everyone in the room.
    She sniffled as she rubbed her nose back and forth then drained the top third of her drink . It looked an awful lot like bourbon on the rocks. I prayed it was ice tea.
    “Where’s the action? I don’t think there is any, Swindle . Tommy and Gino haven’t bothered to show. Half the folks have already left and the other half will leave about ten seconds after the bar closes. The food has been slow cooking under those heat lights for the past three or four hours so I’d stay away from that.”
    “We gotta get this place moving, get some action going. There should be a band playing or something, this sucks big time,” she said then took another gulp.
    “Maybe the band is waiting for Tommy and Gino to show up. Or maybe they just cancelled.”
    Swindle kept moving around, shifting her weight, and looking here and there unable to remain still. She downed the remainder of her drink in one massive pour, shuddered a moment then handed me her empty.
    “Get me another. I’m gonna get this place moving, this is total dul lsville,” she said, then staggered across the room to the stairway.
    “Working friend of yours?” Heidi said in my ear.
    “No, actually, my date, sort of,” I replied.
    “Oh , Dev, I’m sorry I didn’t mean…”
    “Relax, it’s a business deal, she’s a client.”
    “You’re working for hookers?” she said.
    “I better get her drink refilled, need anything?”
    “No, moderation is the key.”
    I walked over to the b ar. Zipper Head was still there. “I need a Summit and this was Swindle’s, so whatever she was drinking, I guess.”
    She handed me my Summit then filled a glass with ice and free-poured a large amount of Grey Goose vodka over the cubes.
    “ Actually, I think Swindle was drinking bourbon,” I said.
    “Y eah, you’re right, she was.” She emphasized the word “was”. “But she always likes to mix things up. She usually starts with a white wine, then a shot or two of something strange, followed by bourbon, vodka, and then a gin martini. She finishes up with tequila shots if she can make it that far. Some extra curricular stuff in-between,” she winked.
    “Sounds absolutely lethal.”
    “That’s Swindle,” she smiled.
    My client , I thought. And I was supposed to watch her? She didn’t just need a keeper, she needed about five years in rehab and a team of social workers.
    “Oh, oh,” Zipper Head suddenly said under her breath.
    “All right , everybody, let’s get it going tonight. Come on, put your hands together and start clapping.”
    I turned round to see Swindle with a cordless