The Customs Agent

Hubble

Harlan found a place at the busy bar and ordered a beer from the bartender he'd met earlier. The room was loud and crowded with men and women in fancy clothes. Music blared from a small trio crammed into a balcony alcove; the whole effect was giving Harlan a headache.

"How do you stand this?"

"Eh, what?" The bartender cupped an ear and leaned forward, grinning.

"I said how- ?" The joke suddenly hit him and he nodded good-naturedly. "Okay . . . are the poker players here tonight?"

"Every night but I warned you about that."

"Just want to watch, I can barely afford the price for this," he said, holding up the beer.

A small circle of observers surrounded the large table where several serious looking men studied cards and fingered the chips before them. Harlan squeezed into a space by the wall and saw Hubble immediately; he was dealing. He backed off a bit so as not to be seen himself and bumped into a woman looking at him as if he was prey.

"Care to buy a lady a drink?"

"You can finish this if you like, it's about all I can afford." He smiled at her reaction.

The harshly painted features reassembled into a leering smile and she leaned back, sizing him up.

"I don't know, you look like you might have a lot to offer."

"My mom used to say that; she didn't mean it either." He raised the beer mug questioningly. The leer turned to a sneer and Harlan watched the woman flounce away with a gait that suggested it was his loss. Behind him at the table voices suddenly raised in a protest of anger and the crowd watching backed away quickly.

"You couldn't have drawn that card, mister; you cheated."

Right away two large men in derby hats and bulging jackets pushed through with small clubs, parting the mob by the table. Chairs scraped back and there was a burst of sound from some of the players as they scrambled for cover from the bouncers. Hubble was on his feet, gun slipping from the holster on his hip when the club hit his arm. He yelped and turned away from another blow glancing off his back. His opponent suffered similarly and both men were dragged unceremoniously to the front doors and tossed into the street.

Harlan made his way to the door and watched as Hubble waved a dismissive hand at the other man and staggered away up the street, one hand massaging his arm. He waited a moment then followed, pausing when he realized he still had the beer mug.

"To hell with it," he said, dropping it on the side of the walkway.

He followed Hubble at a distance and saw him turn into the doorway of a building that had a grocery business on the street floor and rooms to let in the two floors above. Hubble was enjoying similar accommodations to his own, Harlan thought. That was a surprise considering the amounts of money he seemed to win and the fact that he was getting a cut from the trafficking. He didn't need to know a room number, he decided, just needed to know where his target stayed . . . for now.

******

Harlan found the street where he was staying and as he approached the door it opened and the young woman that had served him came out. He paused and admired the clothes and the slight figure apparent beneath them.

"Good evening. All done for the day?"

Chenguang bowed and folded her hands in front. "Sir."

"Harlan. My name's Harlan uhm . . . Chu- Wang . . . "

"Chenguang."

"Right. Sorry, just not familiar with Chinese names." He smiled and slapped a short rhythm on his thighs. "So, you live nearby?"