Hard Candy - Andrew Vachss [67]
"Julio saw the don?"
"Oh yes. At the compound. Julio's got his own plan. He's going to make Wesley dead. Do what the don couldn't do. Be the boss. He'll never be my boss again."
"So he wins no matter what happens?"
"That's what he thinks. Ugly evil old man. He feels strong when he thinks of the don cowering in his basement, afraid of the dark. But when he thinks of me, his strength is gone. That's why he has to go. He thinks it's my time. Time to free himself But it's his time. I waited long enough."
"He's got to leave that basement sometime." Thinking of Train, safe in his house. With his human polygraph and his bodyguards who made little girls' bodies disappear.
She leaned into me, head against my chest. I'd never seen a black orchid, but then I knew what one smelled like. Her hand went to the inside of my thigh. "I'll tell you a secret now. In the chair."
"Jina…"
"Please."
Such a strange word from a witch. I sat in the big chair. She squirmed into my lap, lips against my neck. I heard every word, like she was talking into my brain.
"The don can't stay in the basement. He'd lose it all. The others, they'd know. And you know what happens then. When you drop the leash, the dog bites. So every Monday night, he meets with his captain. On the Fifty–ninth Street Bridge."
"How do they work it?"
"The captain's boys park on the Manhattan side. The don's boys park on the Queens side. Then they walk across. Soldiers in front, soldiers behind. They do their business and they go back."
"Every Monday night."
"At one in the morning."
She turned sideways so her thigh was across my lap. "I'm a good girl," she whispered in that witchy little girl's voice. Reaching for my crotch. Nobody home.
"Let the beast out," she said. "I know what to do with him."
"Ssssh" I said in the darkness. Patting her just above her hips, stroking her back. "It doesn't matter. There is no beast. You are a good girl, Jina."
Her hand came away from my crotch, pulled gently at a button on my shirt. "Sleepy," she said.
I shifted my weight. Her skirt rode up. A faint trail of light on her stockings. I wrapped my other arm around her, rocked her gently. "It's okay, girl."
She took my thumb into her mouth. Didn't bite it this time, or suck on it. Just left it there, touching it with her tongue. Made a quiet noise in her throat.
I held her for a long time while she slept.
114
"WAKE UP," is the first thing I heard. She was still there, face softened by sleep, hair tousled.
"I'm awake."
"It'll be light soon. Time for you to go."
"Yeah."
She got off my lap, pulled her skirt down. Shook her hair loose. The sleep fled her eyes. She bent forward, face inches from mine. The witchy hiss was back. "Julio goes too."
I nodded.
115
I WAS AN HOUR EARLY to the meet with Morehouse. Pansy prowled a tiny circle in front of the car while I was doing something under the hood. Nobody came close enough to find out what.
Morehouse pulled up in his Datsun, fifteen minutes late.
"I was looking for your other car, man. Been cruising the area for a half hour. I…what the fuck is that?"
"Pansy!" I snapped, throwing her a hand signal. She hit the deck, watching Morehouse like a Weight Watcher about to jump ship.
Morehouse's lip curled. "Was that a dog once? Before it swallowed a car?"
"I thought all West Indians loved dogs."
"No, man, you got it wrong. All West Indians are dogs. Just ask my girlfriend. Anyway, I got what you wanted."
"I just hope it's not that fairy story about the old man being holed up in a fortress in Sands Point."
Morehouse was too cool to give it all away, but his eyes slid away from me just far enough to let me know I'd hit the target. "Well, that's what's on the street."
"Yeah. And Donny Manes stabbed himself to death."
"Hey, man, that was the word. Is the word. From on high."
"From on the pad."
"I didn't say that."
"Okay. Thanks anyway."
"That's it?"
"What else is there?"
"Our trade, man. What is wrong with you? I'm not done—I can still come up with the winner. Italians dropping like World War II out there. You were right.