Hard Candy - Andrew Vachss [40]
He was standing on the sidewalk, a body at his feet. His hands went parallel to the ground, palms down, patted the air twice. The body was alive. I knelt down to take a look, Max watching my back.
A small body, wrapped in a Navy pea coat, hooded sweatshirt inside covering the head. Dark gloves. Jeans and sneakers. I pulled the hood away from the face. Elvira, the wolf–child. Eyes closed, face blue–toned in the streetlight. I pinched her lower jaw—her tongue slid out. I looked up at Max. He tapped his diaphragm with two stiffened fingers. Just the wind knocked out of her. I touched the face of my wristwatch. Max's finger made one full circle, flashed his hand open and closed. She'd been waiting over an hour—since I'd parked the car.
I opened the passenger door and we put her into the front seat. I motioned for Max to climb in behind her. He bowed, brought his hands together, and disappeared. He was doing his work, not mine.
72
BY THE TIME I got near the river she was sucking in ragged gulps through her mouth. I hit the power–window switch to give her some air.
"Breathe through your nose. Shallow breaths. In and out. You're okay."
"I'm going to be sick…"
I pulled over. Went around to her side and helped her out. She walked toward the water under her own power. I smoked a cigarette while she left her supper in the parking lot.
Michelle had left one of her old street–trick kits in the back of the Plymouth. I gave the girl one of the premoistened towelettes to wipe her face. Handed her the airline–size bottle of cognac. "Rinse out with this," I told her.
I moved the car deeper into the darkness, backing it in against an abandoned pier. Dropped my own window, listening for sounds a human would make. Nothing. I lit another smoke. She still had some of the cognac left, sipping at it, watching me, color coming back in her face.
"What was that?"
"What was what?"
"What happened to me?"
"You set off the burglar alarm."
"I thought I was going to die."
"You could have—you're playing with dangerous things."
"I had to talk to you."
I snapped my smoke out the window, watching the little red dot through my black&white eyes. "So?"
"I have to go back."
"To Train?"
"Yes."
"So go."
"It's not that easy. She'd send you after me again."
"How d'you know?"
"She said so. You work for her, right?"
"Wrong."
"Oh."
I waited. She sipped the cognac.
"You got money?" I asked her.
"I can get some. How much…?"
"Not for me. For cab fare. I'll drop you off near a good corner. Go where you want to go. I won't be coming after you."
She went quiet again. I lit another cigarette. "What's the rest, Elvira?" I asked her.
"I don't believe you," she said in a quiet, subdued voice. "She never tells the truth."
"It's not her talking."
"And I know about you, Mr. Burke."
"Say what you have to say, little girl. I got things to do. And you're not my friend."
"Can I have one of your cigarettes?" Stalling, like a kid who doesn't want to tell you she did something bad.
I gave her one. Fired a wooden match before she could try the dashboard lighter.
She took a deep drag. "I know what you do," she said.
"That right?"
"Yes, that's right. Danielle told me."
"I don't know any Danielle."
"I don't know what her street name was. We're not allowed to use street names in the family. She was a hooker. You came and took her away. A long time ago."
"Away from what?"
"Her old man. And you brought her home. To a big house on Long Island. Her father paid you to do it."
I shrugged.
"I know you. I know things you know and I know things you don't know."
Her mother's rap, a few years early. "I haven't heard one yet."
She dragged on the cigarette, a soft glow lighting her face for a second.