At last the two men entered the bar, Jimmy telling Ephraim to wait outside. “You know, like you did that day.” Then he turned the lock, ensuring that he and Eaton remained alone. It was better one on one.
The room was dark, Jimmy able to make out shapes from the faint light spilling in through the small window. He searched for a light switch, found it and flicked it. The room suddenly was awash in light, a harsh glow. He stared around the room. A blanket was over the piano to keep its ivories from getting dusty. Chairs were upended over the tables, the room ready for cleaning. A lone microphone stand was in the corner, as muted as Duvan Ahkbar. It was odd, being here again. It was Jimmy’s fourth visit. He hoped never to return. He avoided the spot on the floor where Duvan’s body had lain,
