The phone rang mercifully later than it could have the following morning, but not mercifully enough to give Tannehill a full night's sleep.
Tannehill sat upright and blinked, a stubborn cowlick covering one eye. His suit coat was crumpled in a ball next to him.
"Hello?" His voice was still thick with syncopation.
"Hey, CH, how've you been sleeping?" Lt. Murphy's voice blared from the other end of the line.
"Surprisingly well until very recently." Tannehill coughed and cleared the thickness from his voice.
"Great. Do you think you'll have time to meet me at the precinct later? We've got a couple of things to give you a heads up on and a few questions to ask you."
"At the precinct?" He could feel his brain begin to shift into a useful gear. At least this excursion wouldn't require another commute downtown.
"Yup."
"Is this a formal request for my time?"
"Not at all. Like I said, it'll be a bit of show and tell on our end and yours."
Tannehill exhaled trying to blow the cowlick back into place. "OK. What time?"
"Can you make it here by 10 AM?"
"What time is it now?"
"7:45"
"Sure. It'll give me a chance to grab some breakfast and practice various alibis." Tannehill thought he heard Murph smile or grimace on the other end of the line. The two men said their farewells and hung-up.
Tannehill stood, walked to the washbasin and doused his face with soap and cold water. He pulled a fresh shirt and tie from his closet and shook his coat free of its largest wrinkles. He glanced around the room for his fedora and found it hiding in the corner by his kitchenette. He picked it up, gave it a casual dusting, put it on and left.
A few minutes later he was sitting in the Happy Hour Diner.
"Morning. How's my favorite ray of sunshine?"
Tannehill looked at Vera. "I didn't realize you were serious about that outfit in powder blue."
"Yup. I have one in a very bright yellow as well." Vera smiled, "it's one of the many perks of the job." Tannehill noticed the hairpin she'd worn the night before was still in place.
"How are you this animated on so little sleep?"
"I've got fewer miles on me than you do, gumshoe. Also, my paycheck demands it, and he's a tough guy to say no to."
"Huh."
"Huh, indeed. What's your palate in the mood for today?"
"Bacon. Scrambled eggs. Toast."
"...and coffee?"
"Yes, coffee! Definitely, coffee."
Vera headed back to the counter, placed his order and returned with a pot. Pouring, she winked, "this is on me. I mean, what else can I do for a man who treats me to the most elegant bus ride I've ever known?"
Tannehill grunted, "Thanks."
"I understand. You're saving your best material for after 9 AM and for the waitress at the next stop on your diner tour."
"Sorry," Tannehill gulped down half the cup, "the lack of sleep is starting to catch up to me."
"Once it's caught up, what's on your docket for today, then?"
"I'm heading to the police precinct in a couple of hours."
"Ooh," Vera sat down in the booth across from Tannehill, placed her chin in her hands and cooed. "What for?"
"I'm not certain. The police aren't typically forthcoming with their information."
"I didn't think PIs were supposed to be either, but that coffee's already working its magic. I'm surprised you even told me you're going to chat with the police."
"You've helped me out in a couple of spots, so fair's fair. Besides, I don't see you as the type who talks too much in your sewing circle."
"No, we're too busy drinking to talk. Good thing I always wear my thimble, otherwise those drunken needle pricks would be painful."
Tannehill stared at Vera and took a measured sip.
"Any further thoughts about our European friend and her knowledge of your identity?"
"Other than she's got some involvement in my partner's death and it's not something she feels she needs to hide? No."
"Say, what was your partner's name anyway? I don't think you told me last night. I feel like the three of us are getting cozy, and I don't want to refer to him by something so formal as 'partner'"
"Snell. Er, Dick Snell."
"About yay tall," she stretched a hand above her head, "dapper, thin mustache, not afraid of the pomade."
"That's him. Do you - did you know him?"
"Yeah," she lowered her voice in concert with her eyelids, "we were lovers."
Tannehill spit a mouthful of coffee on the table between them.
"Relax, flat foot, I'm joking. He used to come in here and undertip me while overcomplimenting me. It wasn't a winning combination for courtship."
Tannehill wiped the coffee dribbling from his chin, "yeah, that's definitely him."
"So," she used a rag in her apron to wipe up the coffee on the table, "you have no idea why the cops want to talk to you?"
"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm not under suspicion. That means they either want to catch up for old time's sake or ask me some procedural questions. Maybe they think I can help them identify a suspect."
"Do you think you can help them?"
Tannehill took another sip. "If I don't, I'm sure they'll find a suspect soon. That suspect may never have laid eyes on Snell, but..." he shrugged.
A voice from the kitchen boomed out into the seating area, "Vera, we've got customers! Quit yapping and go serve them!"
"Indeed!" Vera retorted. She stood up and smoothed her powder blue uniform. She leaned close to Tannehill and lowered her voice in breathless excitement, "keep me posted, would ya'?" She turned to grab the order ready for pick up on the counter.
Tannehill glanced into his coffee cup and muttered. "Indeed." He drained his remaining coffee and started toward the counter waiting for his breakfast.
[Author's Note - This chapter is 999 words. The running total is 14148 for the story. I wasn't sure if most homes had telephones installed in the 1930s. During the 1920s, most new homes were wired for phone service, but that stopped with the onset of the Great Depression, so the likelihood is a little ambiguous. As a result, I decided to give Tannehill a phone to further my plot without having to rewrite me scene and determine how and when he'd pick up his messages.]
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