Harley Jean Davidson 03 - Evil Elvis by Virginia Brown Page B

either.”
     
    “No,” he agreed. “It’s not. The thing is, we aren’t really sure it’s about Elvis impersonators anyway. It could just be a guy with a grudge against the victims for some other reason. Maybe they had a disagreement, lover’s spat, a difference of opinion over politics, religion, women, whatever. The police are checking out all those leads, but you’re the one who can possibly identify the killer.”
     
    “So can Lydia, if we can get her to be coherent. I don’t think the police were able to get much from her that made sense. Anyway, I could be remembering the wrong guy, you know. Maybe it’s just one of the other passengers that had absolutely nothing to do with it.”
     
    Tootsie nodded. “The process of elimination will determine that. Meanwhile, see if you think this guy’s a likely suspect, and if you find out his name, I’ll turn it over to Steve. I guess you’ve already given a description of him to the police?”
     
    “As much as I could. I mean, he looked like Elvis. I gave his height, approximate weight, and all that, but I couldn’t remember any distinguishing features for the police artist. All I can say is that he had a different walk. Yeah, I know, that sounds stupid, but it was something about the way he moves. Really, it’s the perfect disguise, hiding as Elvis in a bunch of Elvis impersonators. I mean, they may dress a little differently, in white jumpsuits, or in baggy suits of the fifties, or in black leather, but they’re all so similar it’s hard to pinpoint any big differences between them.”
     
    Except for really sexy undercover cops in tight black leather, she thought before she could stop herself. She had to quit doing that. It got very distracting.
     
    “Gotta go,” she said then, and heaved her backpack over one shoulder. “Wish me luck.”
     
    “Good luck, I presume.”
     
    “What else?”
     
    She found the taxi driver in line at The Peabody Hotel. Taxis waited in an area by the parking lot off Second Street, while valets scuttled out to open car doors and usher in guests. On Union Avenue, horse-drawn carriages waited for tourists. There’d been a lot of discussion about the horses being allowed to wait or even pass by restaurants. Something about manure and diners. Harley had her own opinion about that—City Hall spread around enough manure that a few more piles here and there in the streets shouldn’t matter in the least. After all, the horses wore diapers, but politicians weren’t required to wear muzzles. The horses won out, but the politicians were still there. Unfortunately.
     
    So far, no law had been passed about the politicians.
     
    After finding an empty parking spot just outside the employee door opening onto Third Street, she stuck a few coins in the meter and cut through the alley. The taxi was still in the same spot, his ID number on the light atop the roof. The driver sat inside, a craggy-faced man wearing a Memphis Redbirds baseball cap.
     
    “Hey,” she said, stepping up to his open window. He looked up from his newspaper to squint at her, “mind if I ask you a few questions?”
     
    “You want a ride somewhere?”
     
    “No, I’d just like to ask you about a fare you picked up at Dad’s Place—”
     
    Rattling his paper, he looked back down at it. “I ain’t no information booth. Be glad to take you anywhere you want to go, that’s it.”
     
    “This won’t take but a minute, I just want to know—”
     
    “Lady, I done told you. Want information, ask at the front desk of any hotel. Want a trip to the airport or wherever, hop in back.”
     
    “Fine. Give me a ride to the Orpheum.”
     
    “That’s only two blocks away. Walk or take the trolley.”
     
    Harley got irritated. “Your customer service attitude sucks. Do your supervisors know what a jackass you are to paying fares?”
     
    Now he looked up at her with a scowl, chewing on the unlit cigar in his mouth. “Ain’t got no supervisors, just