Blue Belle - Andrew Vachss [123]
I walked back through the place, the Mole behind me. Wall–to–wall industrial–grade carpeting that had once been pink covered every square inch of floor. Recessed lighting ran the length of the hall. A desk was set up against the wall right across from the door. A wood railing made two gates—one to the desk, one to the corridor. Huge blowup pictures covered the walls of the entryway. Only two chairs, both against the left–hand wall. No Waiting. A giant round mirror was in the upper right–hand corner, cocked at the angle formed by the wall and the ceiling. I sat at the desk, looked up. You could see the length of the corridor.
"We need a …"
"Periscope," the Mole stepped on my lines. "You stay in the back room, see every face that comes in."
"Okay. What's that?" I asked, pointing to a light on the desk.
"Switch in every room. Girl has trouble, she pushes it."
The phone on the desk rang. I picked it up. "Yeah?"
"It's me." McGowan's voice. "I'm next door. I see you managed to get in."
"We're in." I looked around. "One more thing. I can't work the bouncer job in here. Got to stay out of sight. I'm going to have some boys sent over."
"What kind of boys?"
"Chinese boys."
"No way! That's all I need. Can you rig up a buzzer? Between us? Your man hits it, we'll have someone through the basement in a minute."
I looked at the Mole. He nodded. Rigging a buzzer wasn't going to overload his brain cells.
"Okay, we'll take care of it right away."
"Hey, Burke?"
"What?"
"Tell your man to leave the door open, okay?"
I hung up on him.
158
MICHELLE SHOWED a little later. You could see her through the square piece of glass. The Mole buzzed her inside. She was wearing a scarlet pants suit over a white turtleneck sweater, black spikes on her feet. The Mole and I stayed out of her way as she stalked the length of the corridor. Me smoking, watching the door, the Mole starting to set up the periscope.
Michelle came back to the front room, hands on hips. "This place is the pits. Mole, I need everything out of the first room. That'll be my office. And put that disgusting tool belt someplace—you're supposed to be the manager, not the janitor."
"I have to fix things," the Mole said, mildly.
"Well, go ahead and fix things. I'll go out tomorrow, get you some decent clothes."
"Michelle…"
"Don't you Michelle me. I work my beautiful butt off to keep my kid in nice clothes, and every time I see him he looks more like you, God forbid."
"He's my boy too."
"Sure. Next thing, you'll want him Bar Mitzvahed."
The Mole said nothing—even a lunatic knows the limit.
I left them to fight over who was going to go back to the junkyard every morning to check on the kid.
159
BELLE AND Pansy were in the back. Pansy was stretched out on the couch, Belle in the chair. "You okay?" I asked her.
"I'm fine, baby."
I gave her a kiss. Heard the buzzer. Female noises, Michelle's voice cutting through the chatter. I heard someone coming back, stepped outside into the big room. It was Michelle.
"I have to have a meeting with my girls. And take some pictures. It's gonna be a while—you both just stay back here, keep it quiet."
I nodded, putting my finger to my lips. Pansy closed her eyes.
A couple of minutes later, I heard Michelle bossing the Mole, telling him where she wanted the light stands, not to get his greasy hands on the lens. One day she was going to push him over the edge.
The room filled with girls. Pansy's face wrinkled at the overpowering smells. Michelle's voice:
"Okay, now, I understand you ladies have not worked