Hard Candy - Andrew Vachss [27]
"He want a favor? Don't he know you only play for pay?"
I lit a cigarette. Told the little man about the lie detector Train used, the karate–man he had at the door, the layout of the house.
I wasn't watching his face but I could feel him nod. The words came out of the side of his mouth. "I ain't read the book, but I'll take a look."
I left him at his post.
46
I CALLED CANDY from a pay phone in the station.
"He said okay."
"You have my girl?"
"Tomorrow night. I'll bring her to you."
"See? I told you…"
I hung up.
47
A DOLL–FACED young girl was working the exit ramp to the subway at Forty–second Street. Soft brown hair in pigtails down the sides of her face, body buried in a quilted baby–blue jacket.
"Mister? Can you help me? I'm trying to get together enough money to go home."
"Where's home?"
"In Syosset—on Long Island."
"That's where I'm going. Come on, I'll give you a ride." She bit her lower lip. "Twenty bucks."
"What?"
"Twenty bucks. And you can ride me wherever you want, okay?" Before I lost Belle, I would have taken her with me. Called McGowan.
I walked out into the street.
48
THE NEXT DAY it was dark enough by seven, but we gave the night a couple of hours to settle in. I went to Train's place alone. A different guy let me in. I followed him upstairs. Took my seat. Waited.
The door opened and they all walked in. Train was with them. The woman who said I had told the truth came in last, leading a girl by the hand. A short, slender little girl wearing faded jeans with a rip above one knee. A pale green T–shirt with "Zzzzap!" across the chest, plastic strap of an airline bag across one shoulder, denim jacket in one hand.
"Do you know this man?" Train asked the girl. She shook her head no.
The lie detector opened her robe. She was naked beneath it. Took the girl inside, hugging her close, looked over her shoulder at Train. Nodded.
"This is who you asked for," Train said to me.
"If you say so."
"You don't know her?"
"No."
"But you've seen a photograph… had her described to you?"
"Sure."
"And?"
"I can't tell." The girl's yellow cat's eyes watched me.
"Do you want to ask her any questions?"
"No." I lit a cigarette. "If she's not the right girl, I'll bring her back."
His lower lip twisted. Hands went to his temples. The lie detector opened her robe. The girl walked over. Stood in front of me. "Let's go," she said, slipping one arm into her jacket.
I stood up. Nobody moved. She followed me to the door. The new guard stepped aside. We walked down the stairs by ourselves. Opened the front door and stepped outside. She didn't look back.
49
SHE WALKED beside me to the Plymouth. I unlocked the passenger door for her. As she swung her hips into the front seat I slipped the airline bag off her shoulder. She didn't react. I closed the door behind her, walked around behind the car, unzipping the bag, rooting through it with my hand. Nothing in there that could hurt you unless you swallowed it.
I climbed inside, handed her the bag. She put it on the floor, groped inside, came out with a cigarette.
"Can I have a light?" Her voice was soft, like she was asking me for something else.
I fired a wooden match, held it out to her. She wrapped both hands around mine, lit the smoke, eyes on me. "Your hand feels strong."
I wheeled the car down Flatbush Avenue, heading for the Manhattan Bridge. Turned right on the Bowery, heading uptown.
"My mother sent you?"
"That's right, Elvira."
"Nobody calls me that."
"What do they call you?"
"Juice," she said, flashing a smile. "You think that's dumb?"
"Kids have funny names."
"I'm not a kid."
"Fifteen, your mother said."
"My mother is a liar. She always lies."
I shrugged.
"What if I don't want to go back?"
"Talk to her about it."
"I'm talking to you."
"You're talking to yourself."
I pulled up at a red light on First Avenue. She snapped her lighted cigarette at me and ripped at the door handle, shoving her shoulder against the passenger door. It didn't budge. I picked her cigarette off the seat, tossed it out my window. She pushed