Eyes Full of Empty Read Online Free Page A

Bollywood movie,not running a cybercafé that caters to losers and pervs.
    â€œIdir! Good, and you?”
    â€œI need a computer.”
    â€œMake yourself at home.” He waves me into the room, where four computers are lined up against a wall. There’s no one else around. I sit down at the last one, open a browser, and start searching. I type in the name Thibaut Crumley and get a Facebook page plus several newspaper articles. Photos of Oscar and Thibaut, arm in arm. And their father, the three of them together, a family: “We’re very close…” It hurts to say these words; the brothers’ smiles are forced. I check the dates; the oldest article is less than a year old. All very recent. Nothing particularly interesting, just PR bullshit. The problem with my line of work is no one ever tells you everything. Otherwise, the kind of people who pay me would never call on my services. It’s something I’ve learned. A kind of tacit agreement. The client sits down across from you and tells you his problem with its share of lies and gray areas. There’s no point asking for explanations; you won’t get any. It’s part of the deal.
    I switch off the computer and push the chair back under the desk.
    â€œHow much do I owe you?”
    â€œDone already?”
    â€œYeah.”
    He laughs and tilts his head. “I don’t have a minute rate. Forget about it.”
    â€œThanks, my man. Have a good one.” I leave, touched by his gesture. I should stop chatting up his wife.
    I decide to head up to Abbesses for my first coffee of the day, sort out my ideas. Seated on the café terrace, I pull out my cell phone.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œHey, Eve. It’s Idir. The one looking into Thibaut’s disappearance.”
    â€œYeah, I remember.”
    â€œHow’s it going?”
    â€œFine. Is there something you want? I already told you everything I know.” She doesn’t sound delighted to be talking to me.
    â€œYou guys ever go to parties?”
    â€œUh…”
    â€œWhat I mean is when’s the next one you have lined up on your social calendar?”
    â€œSaturday.”
    â€œThink I could stop by, speak to some people, y’know—”
    â€œYou want to interrogate people?”
    â€œNo, no, just drop by, talk a little. We could go together if you want.”
    She doesn’t really seem into that. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
    â€œWhat if I brought a little something along?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    She knows exactly what I mean. But maybe I’m wrong about her, and she doesn’t partake? I add, “The party favors will be on me. Free. All you have to do is bring me to the party and say I’m a friend. That’s all. I won’t hassle you.”
    â€œOK,” she says quietly. I wasn’t wrong.
    â€œWhat time should I swing by?”
    â€œI don’t know, ten? Eleven?”
    â€œWhere do you live?”
    â€œIn the Sixth. I’ll text you my address.”
    â€œGreat. See you Saturday.” I hang up. Now I have a window of opportunity to find out a bit more about the kids at the party.It’s not much, but at this stage, things could be worse. At least I’m making progress, which can feel rare in my business when you’re trying to pay the rent. All I have to do now is score some drugs.
    I set course for Belleville. Why go all the way over there to score when I live so close to the Goutte d’Or? Well, I have my habits, and it gives me a chance to visit an old friend.
    I step into the bar at the foot of the boulevard, walk past the counter, and spot Hakim at a table with two other guys. He gets up to greet me. I give him a kiss on either cheek, then extend a hand toward his two associates.
    â€œYou here to see Tarik?”
    â€œYeah.”
    The only way to see Tarik is through the guys who work for him.
    â€œSit down, grab a coffee.