It took us twenty minutes but we did find a spot four blocks away from the club.
“It’ll take us forever to get in with this long line,” Barnes said, concerned.
I dialed Cal Murray’s number and after a few minutes hung up. “We’re going through the back.”
When we got there Cal was already waiting for us. I introduced Barnes and we went up the stairs.
“You guys go and have fun,” said Cal. “If you need me, I’ll be here.”
We went through the narrow hall and into the club. I was blown away by the sheer energy of the place. The noise was immense. It had done a three-sixty transformation from the quiet place it was this morning. It was already bustling with people.
Barnes said something inaudible.
“What?” I yelled.
He leaned closer. “This is what I’m talking about.”
“How ’bout we split up. You stay up here and I’ll go down. If you see anything you ring me.” I was yelling hard.
“Sure,” he yelled back.
I moved forward and made my way to the railing of the mezzanine. Below there was a good crowd on the dance floor. On the stage DJ Krash was mixing feverishly. He was wearing a white cap and a black t-shirt. A pair of headphones was around his neck. The crowd was into the music. I think it was retro or contemporary-but what the hell did I know. Different coloured lights beamed down on to the dancers.
I was getting into the music too. Involuntarily, my head started bopping to the beat. I made my way down through the right side stairs. There were a lot of people and a lot of girls. Now I knew why Barnes wanted to come here.
A few people had taken spots on the Beam Breaker.
I danced-if you call shaking your body in different directions dancing-my way to the stage. DJ Krash was focused on mixing records on the turntables. For a split second he looked up and when he saw me he smiled.
I felt important. I knew the DJ.
The Lincoln turned off Queen Street West and headed south. It turned into a dark alley and parked in a lot that could hold eight to ten cars. It was the parking lot of the House of Jam: reserved for the owners and its guests.
Ms. Zee dialed a number and Cal answered.
“We’re coming to see you, Cal,” she said.
“But…but…” Cal started.
“We’ll only be there for a few minutes,” she said.
“No. Come back later,” he said firmly.
“We’re outside your door,” she said.
Defeated, Cal said, “I’ll be down in a minute.”
The back door swung open. Cal was not happy to see them, but he managed a smile.
All four of them followed Cal to his office. Suraj and Joey headed out to the club.
“What can I do for you?” said Cal, getting behind his desk.
“We want the samples back,” Ms. Zee said. Kong was with her in the room.
“What samples?”
“The samples of the drug.”
“Um…” Cal put his fingers to his lips. “I disposed of them right after you left.”
“I don’t believe you,” Ms. Zee answered.
“Don’t, but it wouldn’t do me any good to keep them. What if the cops found the drugs? They’d shut the place down.” Cal leaned forward. “Why do you want it back anyways?”
“The samples are not to our liking.”
“And why is that?”
“We have our reasons,” Ms. Zee said.
Not satisfied, Cal said, “Let me ask you this and tell me honestly. Will you have the drug or not?”
“We will,” she said.
I went to the bar and ordered a ginger ale. I nearly choked when the bartender told me it was three dollars. It was ginger ale, not imported wine. Disgruntled, I headed for the chairs lined around the dance floor. This would be a good spot to scope out the place. It had an indescribable energy. I could see why this was the club to be at. The Beam Breaker already had a line-up. They all wanted to try it out.
I already had a personal tour.
A girl walked up to me. She smiled and said, “Buy you a drink?”
“No thanks, already bought one,” I said raising my glass of ginger ale.
Her face turned sour and she left.
I took a sip and then realized what a dope I was. The girl was interested in me and I turned her down. I looked around, hoping to find her again.
I forgot my glass and headed in the direction she’d gone. There were too many people and searching for her was like trying to find a toothpick in a stack of toothpicks. I thought of the Find-a-Friend. I went to the machine but changed my mind when I saw two huge guys with cut-off tank tops, which by the way revealed well muscled arms, standing in front of the machine having a good time. I didn’t want to disturb them. That wouldn’t be polite. I went back to my chair.
As I got near I saw a white kid with shaggy hair sitting on my chair.
“That’s my glass,” I said pointing to a half-empty glass perched on the rail.
“Sorry,” the kid apologized. “I didn’t know someone was sitting here.”
“That’s okay,” I leaned over to retrieve my drink.
The guy next to us suddenly got up and left. I think DJ Krash was playing his music. I took the empty seat and turned to the kid.
“Hey, I’m Jeff,” the kid said, offering his hand.
“If what you’re saying is true,” Cal said. “Then this new drug will be huge.”
“Very,” Ms. Zee reiterated.
“Then I would like a piece of the profit.”
Ms. Zee was taken back a little. In their previous meetings he was ardently against them opening shop in his establishment. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
“I cannot completely stop drugs from entering my club. If I join you I can control exactly what gets in and what gets out.” This sounded like perfect business. “On top of that, I can make some money.”
Ms. Zee seemed pleased. “How much are we talking about?”
“Fifty-fifty,” Cal said.
“No,” Ms. Zee was a good negotiator. “Thirty-Seventy.”
“Fifty-fifty. House of Jam is the place to be in Toronto-fifty-fifty it is.”
“Thirty-five-sixty-five.”
“No. In my place you’ll have more returning clients than anywhere else.”
“Forty-sixty.”
“Also,” Cal leaned for his final kill. “If I get raided I’ll lose everything.”
“All right. Fifty-fifty,” she said. House of Jam was the place to start a venture. It was also good business, considering she did not have the drug yet.
“I’m Jon Rupret,” I shook his hand. “R before E.”
He thought about it, “Not Rupert but Rupret. Interesting.” He moved his head up and down.
“You got it.” I took a sip of my drink.
“Hey, wait a minute.” He narrowed his eyes as if he was trying to locate something in his head. “Aren’t you the guy who messed up the drug squad investigation last year?”
I couldn’t believe he recognized me.
“Yeah, you are that guy,” he concluded.
I hung my head and took another sip.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I would have done the same thing. You did your job.”
“I did,” I said. “So you come here often?” I asked.
“Naw, whenever I get the chance. How about you?”
“First time.”
“Wow, you don’t get out much.”
“Working.”
“You still in the police force?”
“Yep, they couldn’t get rid of me that easily.”
“In parking?”
“Nope. Got transferred.” I took a sip. “What do you do?”
“I just graduated.”
“In what?”
“Pharmaceutical Chemistry.”
“We’ll return with the drug,” said Ms. Zee. She turned to Kong. “Get Suraj and Joey. We’re leaving.”
Kong went through the narrow hall and into the club. The music was loud and it hit him hard. He winced. There were too many people-moving, talking, laughing, yelling-it was all too much for him. He grunted.