A Dance at the Slaughter House

I didn't say anything.

"I'm all hot and wet," she said. "I have no underpants on. It's wonderful to wear tight leather pants and no underwear and get all wet inside the leather. Do you want to come upstairs with me? I could fuck you stupid. You remember what I did to that boy?"

"You killed him."

"You think he had it so bad?" She moved closer, took the lobe of my ear between her teeth. "For three days we fucked his brains out, Bergen and I. We fucked him and sucked him and let him have whatever drugs he wanted. He had a lifetime of pleasure."

"He didn't like the ending much."

"So he had pain. So what?" Her hand stroked me in rhythm with her words. "So he didn't live a hundred years, he didn't get to be an old man. Who wants to be an old man?"

"I guess he died happy."

"That was his name, Happy."

"I know."

"You knew that? You know a lot, Scudder. You think you give a shit about the boy? If you care so much about him, how come you got a hard-on?"

A good question. "I never said I cared about him."

"What do you care about?"

"Getting money for the tape. And living long enough to spend it."

"And what else?"

"That's enough for now."

"You want me, don't you?"

"People in hell want ice water."

"But they can't have it. You could have me if you wanted. We could go upstairs right now."

"I don't think so."

She sat back. "Jesus, you're tough," she said. "You're a hard case, aren't you?"

"Not particularly."

"Richard would be under the table by now. He'd be trying to eat me through the leather pants."

"Look where it got him."

"He didn't have it so bad."

"I know," I said. "Who wants to be an old man? Look, just because you can give me a hard-on doesn't mean you can lead me around by it. Of course I want you. I wanted you when I first saw the tape." I picked up her hand, put it back in her own lap. "After we've done our business," I said, "then I'll have you."

"You think so?"

"I think so."

"You know who you remind me of? Bergen."

"I don't look good in black rubber."

"Don't be so sure."

"And I'm circumcised."

"Maybe you can get a transplant. No, you're like him on the inside, you both have the same hardness. You were a cop."

"That's right."

"Did you ever kill anybody?"

"Why?"

"You did. You don't have to answer, I can feel it in you. Did you like it?"

"Not particularly."

"Are you so sure that's the truth?"

" 'What is truth?' "

"Ah, an age-old question. But I think I will sit across the table from you. If we are going to talk business it's better if we can look at each other."

* * *

I told her I wasn't greedy. I wanted a single payment of fifty thousand dollars. They had paid that much to Leveque, although they hadn't allowed him to keep it. They could pay the same to me. "You could be like him," she said. "He had a copy, even though he swore he didn't."

"He was stupid."

"To keep a copy?"

"To lie about it. Of course I've made a copy. I've made two of them. One's with a lawyer. The other's in the safe of a private detective. Just in case I get mugged in an alley, or fall out a window."

"If you have copies you could extort more money from us."

I shook my head. "The copies are my insurance. And my own intelligence is your insurance. By selling you the tape once I'm not extorting money from you. I'm doing you a favor. If I tried it a second time you'd be better off killing me, and I'm smart enough to know that."

"And if we don't pay the first time? You go to the police?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because the tape's not enough to put you away. No, I'd go to the press. The tabloids could run with the story. They'd know you've got too much blood on your hands to bring a libel suit. They'd make things awfully hot for you. You might never face a criminal charge, but you'd get more attention than you'd ever be comfortable with. Your husband's friends in California wouldn't be very happy to see you in the limelight that way, and your neighbors might look at you funny in the elevator. You'd pay fifty grand to avoid that kind of publicity, wouldn't you? Hell, anybody would."

"It's a lot of money."

"You really think so? I don't know if I could get that much from a tabloid, but I could get half that. If they can't sell papers with a story like that they're in the wrong business. I could walk into an office this afternoon and walk out with a check for twenty-five thousand and nobody'd say I was a blackmailer, either. They'd call me a hero investigator, and they'd probably give me an assignment to go out and dig up more dirt."

"I will have to talk to Bergen. You say it's not so much money, but it will take time to get it together."

"The hell it will," I said. "When a man runs a money laundry it's not terribly hard for him to put his hands on some cash. You probably keep five times that sitting around the apartment."

"You have some funny ideas about how business works."

"I'm sure you can have the money tomorrow night," I said. "That's when I want it."

"God," she said, "you're so much like Bergen."

"Our tastes are different."

"You think so? Don't be so sure what your tastes are until you've sampled everything on your plate. And you haven't yet, have you?"

"I haven't missed too many meals."

"Bergen will want to meet you."

"Tomorrow night, when we carry out the transaction. I'll bring the tape so you can see what you're buying. Do you have a VCR in Maspeth?"

"You want to make the exchange there? At the arena?"

"I think it's the safest spot for both sides."

"God knows it's private," she said. "Except for Thursday nights the whole area is a wasteland. And even Thursdays it's not so busy. Tomorrow is what, Wednesday? I think perhaps that's possible. Of course I'll have to talk with Bergen."

"Of course."

"What time would you prefer?"

"Late," I said. "But I can call you later on and we'll work out the details."

"Yes." She looked at her watch. "Call me around four."

"I will."

"Good." She opened her purse, put money on the table for our drinks. "I'll tell you something, Scudder. I really wanted to go upstairs with you before. I was sopping wet. I wasn't just putting on an act."

"I didn't think you were."

"And you wanted me just as much. But I'm glad we didn't do anything. You know why?"

"Tell me."

"Because this way we've still got the sexual tension going between us. Can you feel it?"

"Yes."

"It won't go away, either. It will still be there tomorrow night. Maybe I'll wear the crotchless pants to Maspeth. Would you like that?"

"Maybe."

"And long gloves, and high heels." She looked at me. "And no shirt."

"And lipstick on your nipples."

"Rouge."

"But the same shade as your lipstick and nail polish."

"Perhaps we'll play," she said. "After we've made the switch. Perhaps we'll have some fun, the three of us."

"I don't know."

"You think we'd try to take the money back? You'd still have the copies. One with the lawyer, one with the private detective."

"That's not it."

"What then?"

" 'The three of us.' I was never one for crowds."

"You won't be crowded," she said. "You'll have all the room you need."

Chapter 21

I called at four o'clock. She must have been sitting right next to the phone. She picked it up the second it rang.

"It's Scudder," I said.

"You're punctual," she said. "That's a good sign."

"Of what?"

"Of punctuality. I spoke to my husband. He's agreed to your terms. Tomorrow night is acceptable. As far as the time is concerned, he suggests midnight."

"Make it one."

"One A.M.? Just a moment."

There was a pause, and then Stettner took the phone. He said, "Scudder? Bergen Stettner. One in the morning is fine."

"Good."

"I'm eager to meet you. You made quite an impression on my wife."

"She's pretty impressive herself."

"I've always thought so. I understand we already met, in a manner of speaking. You were the boxing fan looking for the lavatory in all the wrong places. I have to admit I don't have any recollection of what you look like."

"You'll know me when you see me."

"I feel I know you already. I have one problem with our arrangement, as Olga explained the situation. You have extra copies with a lawyer and an agent, is that correct?"

"A lawyer and a private investigator."

"To be opened by them in the event of your death, and certain specified wishes of yours to be carried out. Is that correct?"

"Right."

"An understandable precaution. I could assure you it's unnecessary, but that might not put your mind at rest."

"Not entirely, no."

" 'Trust everybody but cut the cards.' Isn't that what they say? Here's my dilemma, Scudder. Suppose we conclude our transaction to the satisfaction of all concerned and you go your way and we go ours, and five years from now you step off a curb and get run over by a bus. You see what I'm getting at?"

"Yes."

"Because if I keep faith with you-"

"I get the point," I said. "I knew someone in a similar situation once. Give me a minute, I want to see if I can remember how he handled it." I thought for a moment. "All right," I said. "See how this sounds to you. I'll instruct both parties that, if I should die a year or more after today's date, they are to destroy the material left with them unless special circumstances exist."

"What sort of special circumstances?"

"If there's a strong suspicion that I've died as a result of foul play, and if the murderer has not been either identified or apprehended. In other words, you're clear if I'm run over by a bus, or shot by a jealous lover. If I'm murdered by person or persons unknown, then you're in the soup."

"And if you die within the first year?"

"You've got a problem."

"Even if it's a bus?"

"Even if it's a heart attack."

"Jesus," he said. "I don't like that much."

"Best I can do."

"Shit. How's your health?"

"Not bad."

"I hope you don't do a lot of coke."

"I can't drink too much of it because of the bubbles."

"That's funny. You don't do skydiving or hang gliding, do you? Don't fly your own plane? God, will you listen to this? It sounds like an insurance examination. Well, you take good care of yourself, Scudder."