Blue Belle - Andrew Vachss [76]
I let go of Belle, threw the signal to Pansy to pull her away from her post. Opened the back door to let her out to the roof.
"Get ready to go," I told Belle, opening drawers, filling my pockets.
86
IN THE garage, she watched quietly as I lifted the rubber floor mat, spun the wing nuts, and put the pistol inside the hollowed–out space near the transmission hump.
"You remember how to get to your place from here?"
"Sure. I couldn't tell you how to do it, but I can take the car there."
I checked the back of the garage. The street was quiet. Belle backed the Plymouth out. I hit the switch and the door closed behind us.
The Plymouth tracked through the empty streets. Belle handled it like it was a baby carriage. I lit a cigarette, putting it together. Any fool could get into my building from the front—just press the hippies' bell in the middle of the night and they'd buzz you in. It wasn't a customer—they'd come in even when my bell hadn't been answered. Spanish accent. Pounding on the door, but they hadn't tried to break in. Lupe would have told them about my dog.
"Anybody with us?" I asked Belle, not looking around.
"No," she said, her eyes flicking to the mirrors. "Not since we pulled out."
87
ASS SOON as we walked in the door, I grabbed the phone. Mama answered like it was noon.
"They called, right?"
"Yes. Man say playground, behind the Chelsea Projects. Midnight tomorrow."
"Spanish accent?"
"Yes. Nasty man. Whisper on phone, like those men who call women, you know?"
"Yeah, I know. You say anything to him?"
"Nothing to say. You want Max now?"
"No! Mama, this is a bad play. You keep him close, like we said."
"If…"
"Mama, listen. Listen to me. If Max comes in now, it could be trouble for the baby, okay?"
She said something in Chinese. I didn't need a translator. "Later, Mama," I told her, hanging up.
Belle came over to the phone as I was lighting a smoke. "Me too," she said, holding my hand, guiding the match. She was wearing a white T–shirt that came halfway down to her thighs, the blue necklace around her neck.
"I'll be right back," I told her, reaching for my car keys.
"Let me…"
"Stay here," I told her.
She dropped to her knees, holding her hands out in front of her, bent at the wrists like dog's paws.
"Don't be so fucking smart," I said. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes—I need a pay phone."
88
I THREW in a quarter, listened to the woman say something in Spanish.
"Dr. Pablo Cintrone," I said. Waited patiently for a long rap about how the doctor wasn't in at that hour of the night, but if it was an emergency…
"Attention!" I barked into the receiver. "Dr. Cintrone. Burke. Teléfono cuatro. Ten o'clock tomorrow morning, por favor. Okay?"
The voice never changed tone. "Burke. Teléfono cuatro. Ten o'clock tomorrow morning."
"Gracias."
She hung up.
When a citizen's scared, he calls the cops. Where I live, you call a terrorist.
89
THE FRONT door was unlocked. I shut it behind me, walked through the cottage. Belle was out on the deck. I leaned on the railing, looking across the black water. Belle moved in next to me, fingering the necklace.
"You know why I danced in front of men?"
"Yes."
"I know you do. You're the first man who ever looked at my face after I took my clothes off." She pulled the cigarette from my mouth. Took a drag, handed it back.
"Nothing on this earth means anything all by itself. You know those orchids they sell in fancy flower shops? They grow wild in the swamp near where I was raised. And gator hide…It costs so much to make a little purse out of it, but the big old things are out there thick as mosquitoes. You know about gators?"
"Not much."
"Baby gators, they ain't got much of a chance. It's easy to find the eggs—the mama gators just bury 'em and they walk away. Most of them don't make it even if the eggs do hatch. When they're born, they're only a couple of inches long. The big birds grab them up. Bobcats, panthers, coons, damn near everything in the swamp feasts on them. Baby gators,