The joint was jumping when Rich arrived. He could hear music and laughter from the nightclub pouring out into the street, along with a steady stream of patrons coming and going.
Parking his car, he strode across the thoroughfare to the front entrance where Clyde was guarding the doors. The dwarf’s face lit up when he spotted the detective.
“Hey, Florian! How’s it hanging?”
Laughing, Rich gave the little man a conspiratorial wink. “Better than it deserves,” he replied, and let himself in.
If the music was loud outside, it was almost deafening inside. He barely heard his name being yelled as he started across the floor, and looked to find Morrie tending the bar. The man waved him over.
“She was hoping you’d make it. She’s in the back office. Queenie’s here, too, helping to celebrate.”
