Blue Belle - Andrew Vachss [58]
Mama looked at me, waiting.
"I got to go," I told her.
She didn't say anything.
58
I HIT the post office. Told Melvin where the Prof was, gave him the phone number of the private room. Anyone comes around asking for the Prof, he should call me at Mama's, leave the word.
The City Planning Office had the detailed grid maps I needed. I paid for them in cash.
I spent another couple of hours at the library, groping around, not sure what I was looking for.
I drove to the junkyard. Turned around before I got there. It wasn't time for the Mole yet.
I went back to the office. I put the grid maps of the city on the wall. Spread out the clips Morelli got for me. I couldn't make them work.
I went into myself, deep as I could go. I came back empty.
Pansy and I shared some roast beef.
When I looked at my watch, it was time to go.
59
THE DOOR opened before l could knock. "Close your eyes," Belle said. "Keep them closed."
She led me over to the couch, pushed me into it. "Just sit for a minute, honey—I'm not done yet."
I lit a smoke, looking around. The whole place was a mess—boxes and paper all over the floor, bed not made, ashtrays overflowing.
Belle came out of the bathroom, prancing on a pair of shiny black spikes. Her hair was swept to one side, held together with a black clip. Her face was so different I had to look twice: dark eye liner pulled her eyes apart, sharp lines over her cheekbones. Her mouth was a wide, dark slash. She was wearing a black silk top over a pair of skin–tight pants in a wide black–and–white stripe. Two heavy white ropes tied loosely around her waist. She twirled before me, as pretty–proud as a little girl in her first party dress.
"See. Just like Michelle said."
I stared at her.
"Burke. Say something!"
"Damn!"
"What does that mean?" she demanded, moving closer.
"I think my heart stopped. You want to try some mouth–to–mouth?"
The smile lit up her face. "Isn't it great? Michelle's so smart." she twirled again. Stood hip–shot, her back to me. "Vertical stripes," she boasted, patting her hip.
The black–and–white stripes were vertical all the way up her legs. But when they got to her butt, they stopped going parallel and ran for their lives in opposite directions. Flesh stomps fashion every time.
"You're the loveliest thing I've ever seen in my life," I told her, reaching out my hand.
She slapped it away. "No, you don't." She laughed. "I didn't put all this on for you to pull it off."
I got to my feet, reaching in my pocket for the car keys. Belle moved in close to me, holding the lapel of my jacket with one hand. Dark–red polish on her nails.
"Burke, I was only teasing. You want to stay here, it's okay."
I patted her on the rear. "I wish we could stay here. We're working, remember?"
"Then why'd you say…?"
"I lost my head."
She gave me a quick kiss. "Wait till later," she promised.
60
I ROLLED onto the Belt Parkway, taking it past the crossover for the airport, heading for the Whitestone Bridge. When I saw a break in traffic, I pulled over on the shoulder. Turned off the engine. Belle sat quietly, black–and–white–striped legs crossed, waiting patiently.
"Were you really a driver?" I asked her.
"Oh, yes," she said, her eyes opening wide, watching me close.
"Want to show me?"
She was behind the wheel in a flash, almost shoving me out the door. I went around to the other side, let myself in. Lit a smoke, watching her.
Belle kicked off the spike heels, wiggling her hips in the seat. She wasn't playing around, just getting the feel of the machine. "Can I move the seat back a bit?"
I showed her where the lever was. She took it back an inch or two, extending her arms toward the wheel, looking another question at me. I threw a toggle switch and the wheel dropped into her lap. "Move it to where you want it and I'll lock it in place."
She played with the wheel for a minute, getting it just the way she wanted it, squirming around in the seat, checking the mirrors, rolling her shoulders