Blue Belle - Andrew Vachss [57]
The little man winked at her.
"You better hope that ain't no dope," he said, pointing his chin at the hypo on her tray.
"And why is that?" she said, a smile creeping onto her broad face.
"Dope makes me sexy, Mama. I couldn't trust myself around a fine cup of Jamaican coffee like you."
"Never mind with a smart mouth, mahn," she snapped, still smiling, loading the syringe.
The Prof looked at me and Belle. "Look here, fools, can't you see me and this lady want to be alone?"
I waved goodbye. Belle bent over and kissed him.
He was already deep into his rap with the nurse by the time we got the door closed.
56
BELLE RESTED her hand lightly on my arm as we waited for the elevator, not saying a word. She stayed quiet until we got in the car.
"What happened to him?"
"He was in an accident."
Her face went sulky. "I told you the truth. I told you my secrets. You don't have to tell me yours." She lit a cigarette. "But don't lie to me—I'm a big girl, not a baby. It's none of my business, just say that. Don't tell me stories, you want me to trust you."
"It's none of your business," I said.
She didn't say another word until I hit the highway and she saw where I was headed.
"No."
"No what?"
"No good. What happened to your friend—it's none of my business, okay. But you're going to do something now. I know you have to."
"And?"
"And that's my business. I'm in too."
"No, you're not."
"Yes, I am. Don't you tell me I'm not. I can do things. I can help."
"Look, Belle…"
"You look. You think I'm just a piece of ass with a sad story? I'm a woman. A woman who loves you. You don't want my love, you say so. Say so right now."
"I…"
"Just shut up. I don't sell my love. I never gave it away before. I said I was going to love you. That means something. My love is worth something—you have to give me a chance to show you."
"You'll get your chance."
"How? Coming to see you on visiting day?"
"If that's what it comes down to."
"No! I love you. I swear I love you. I pay attention when you talk. I learn things. You want to mistreat me, I'll still love you. I play for keeps. But you can't disrespect me. Like on that wall you showed me."
"I'm not disrespecting you."
"No? You've got work to do, I should stay at home, right? I'm too fat for an apron, and I don't know how to cook."
I lit a cigarette, blew smoke at the windshield, driving mechanically.
Belle moved in close to me, her hip against mine, both arms around my neck, talking softly into my ear. "You have to love me. And you won't…not really love me…unless you let me in. I won't get in the way—I'll just do my piece. You say what it is. But you have to let me in or you'll never see what I am…you'll never love me, Burke."
I took a deep breath. Let it out slow.
"You won't freelance? You'll do what I tell you?"
"I swear."
"I'll pick you up tonight. Around seven."
"Where're we going?"
"The racetrack."
"I thought…"
"That's not the deal," I reminded her.
She gave me a kiss, nuzzled against me for a minute, moved back to the passenger side.
"You're the boss." She smiled.
Sure.
57
WHEN WE got to her house, Belle bounded out of the car like she was going to a fire sale on salvation. I wheeled the car around and shot back to the city. Lots of work to do.
I pulled in behind Mama's. Grabbed the Daily News from under the register and sat in my booth. The waiter brought me some hot–and–sour soup, not even pretending I had a choice. I read the paper, waiting for Mama. Nothing about any new Ghost Van murders. I flipped through to the back. The race results. Mystery Mary came out on top. Wired the field, trotting the mile in 2:00.3. She was three lengths up at the top of the stretch and held on by a neck. Paid $14.10. I was up almost a grand and a half. I couldn't remember the last time I figured a race so perfectly. I waited for the rush. It didn't come. Mama moved into the booth. Greeted me, her eyes shifting to the newspaper.
"You win?"
"Yeah."
"I tell Max pick up the money?"
"Yeah. And tell him to lay low for a few days. Stay off the street, okay?