Hard Candy - Andrew Vachss [61]
"I don't care what it takes." Her voice soft and relentless. "Is that clear enough for you? I want my husband back. His daughter needs him back. You know what he is. If you tell a true warrior he cannot make things right, his duty is to die trying."
I lit a smoke, playing for time. Her eyes stabbed. "Don't try and trick me. I know you could do it. For now. Max even said so—how you can lie so smoothly."
"How can I…?"
"There is a man you went to see. Your enemy. Max has no fear of him, this little killer with his guns."
"Mac, I'm telling you the truth. Believe it or don't, it's still the truth. The man you're talking about…he's not my enemy. I don't know how I know…I'm not even sure I knew until I just said it. But I'm not gaming to protect Max."
"You must let him help you." Intractable. No slack in the rope.
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Let him help you find what you're looking for."
"What I lost."
"No. What you seek. Please."
She bent forward, kissed me lightly on the cheek. Her perfume stayed after her.
107
MAX WALKED IN, kids hanging on him like amateur mountain climbers. Before I could say a word, Lily pushed past Max, holding Elvira's hand. She gave me a "stay where you are" look. Told Elvira, "Go with Max. I have to talk to Burke for a minute before he takes you back."
Elvira obediently held out her hand. It disappeared in Max's. He went back toward the gym, leaving a wake of rowdy kids running to catch up.
I lit a smoke. Lily sat down. Her voice had that distanced, professional tone she uses when the anger laps at the boundaries of her self–control.
"Post–Traumatic Stress Disorder. Long–standing. Original stressor undoubtedly the mother. Compounded by numerous instances of sexual exploitation so frequent that they merged into a real–world distortion pattern. Amoral, almost sociopathic aura to her productions. She imitates affect, but has very little sense of feeling things. Nerve–endings blunted. Some indication of Borderline Syndrome too. She actually…physically feels a void inside of her. Relates to mother almost as a rival. Tested clean on the MMPI Lie Scale. Telling the truth. Guiltless. Heavily bonded to this Train individual. And she's pregnant, maybe two, three months gone."
I let her see my eyes, willing her to relax. "All that means…?"
"I don't have time for games, Burke. You know damn well what every single word I said means. You've spent years studying. Just because it wasn't in college doesn't make you a stupid thug."
I held up my hands. "Okay, okay. I wasn't being cute. I meant what's the bottom line? Where she is: it's better than being with her mother?"
"There's no better to any of this. Where she is now is just one of the places kids like her end up. Nobody wants you, so you hit the streets. And there, somebody always wants you. For something. They prove they want you by paying you money. A child like that, she couldn't tell a rescue mission from a cult."
"Is she being abused now?"
"Not in her mind. She's working for this wonderful goal. This island they're going to buy someplace. Where they can all live in peace…a big, loving family."
"Yeah, like every pimp is going to let his woman retire someday. Open up her own boutique, right? They have her turning tricks?"
Lily's eyes were dark, soulful. Little dots glowing like plutonium around the iris. Holding something in check.
"No. She was in Germany. Making porno movies. But she's too old now."
"Fifteen."
"Yes, fifteen. All she could bring in as a prostitute would be a couple of hundred a day. And she'd have to work outdoors, take a lot of risks. Train doesn't let his people take risks. No, she's not turning tricks…they're breeding her."
"What?"
"Breeding her. Like a brood mare. She told me she was 'mated' to one of the young men in the cult. When she has her baby, Train's going to sell it. You know the going rate for a healthy white baby with a solid