Dublin Noir - Ken Bruen [32]
“Now, take that missy over there, the kid from Dublin,” Dugan continued. He pointed to a slender waitress carrying a tray of drinks away from the bar. “Nice bright smile, the red hair, the freckles, the green eyes. Pretty girl, no? Not the type you’d turn away it comes to bedding down for the night. Her, you don’t give a fuck about her personality. It isn’t the thing. Her, you feed her whatever it takes to get her pants down. She’s a looker, plain and simple. No feelings to hurt, once you’ve done the deed.”
Dugan belched into a fist before downing a shot of Jameson. He slapped the glass down and reached for the half-filled Bud bottle on the table. He took a quick drink from the bottle and belched again, this time loudly.
“Excuse,” he said.
Dugan wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his right hand and then pointed at the twins, one at a time.
“You want a shot, just say so. Don’t be shy, boyos.”
The twins had pints in front of them. They waved the offer off. Dugan poured himself another shot of Jameson.
“Here’s a little tidbit about that one, the missy I just mentioned,” he said, and then pointed at the same waitress again. She was setting drinks on coasters at a round table with a party of six. “She likes it in the ass, that one. Purrs like a fuckin’ cat, you set the anchor there.”
The twins turned to take a better look at the waitress. They were both smiling when they faced Dugan again.
“And the thing is,” he continued, “the best thing, she’s a little off in the head, if you understand what I’m saying.” He wiggled a thumb alongside his right ear. “Some kind of condition from shock, the poor thing was taken by a crew busted out of Mountjoy, took turns with her until she was soft as shite. Gangbanged for two days until the Gardaí found them. Her head’s fucked ever since.”
Dugan stopped as the twins turned again to look at the girl.
“Catherine, her name is,” Dugan said. “Catherine Collins.” He leaned forward to whisper. “Call her Cathy, you’re petting her head while she polishes your knob. She likes that. Purrs, I swear to God.”
He stopped to take another drink from the Bud bottle.
“Comes across a little retarded, like she can’t think for herself, but she can, don’t kid yourself. She asked for it there, her brown spot. Turned and pointed.”
The twins smiled at one another.
“She was tainted goods, why they shipped her here,” Dugan went on. “Whatever those cons did to her, she’s taken a shine to being a pin cushion. Auntie Mary back home can’t keep watch while she’s running her bar on the north side. Catherine come over under the eye of the ape bouncer here, Rusty. Have you met him yet? He’s not here tonight, but he’ll pick her up after closing. Big fucker. Him you don’t wanna mess with. Not even the two a’you.”
Dugan yawned before he continued, “He’s some kind of relative, Rusty is. Her cousin, I think. He’s a cunt hair less daft than the girl, but he can lift trees out the fuckin’ ground, he gets angry enough. Snapped an Italian’s arm off the end of the bar one night for giving the same missy some shit and grabbing her ass.”
Dugan was watching the girl now.
“Shame it is, too,” he said, “an ass like that going to waste.”
He wiped one side of his mouth on his shoulder. The waitress Dugan was talking about stopped at their table to pick up an empty bottle.
“Thanks, hon,” Dugan said. “You’re looking very pretty tonight.”
The waitress smiled at all three men and moved on.
Dugan was about to go on when a well-dressed couple distracted him across the room. He stopped to watch a fat, middle-aged man with an attractive, well-dressed older woman. They were seated at a table and immediately attended to by another waitress.
“There he is,” Dugan told the twins. “Don’t look. He’s directly behind the two of you. First table off the stairway.”
The twins looked down at the table.
“I’d like to take the fat fuck and throw him down the stairs,” Dugan said. “Take his wife downstairs to the kitchen and fuck her in the ass on the chopping board, make him watch.