by Pro Se Press
I was about to pull over and give her the business. I was tired of this game and didn’t want to play anymore. I’m not one for pussy-footing around, not with men, not with women; especially not with barmaids who refuse to come clean about the racket their bosses are into.
“Look, whether I like you or not don’t matter.” I growled. “Only thing that matters, until you want to be up front with me, is that I’m dropping you off at Center Street and driving myself home, where I am going to eat a TV dinner and go to bed. It don’t make a horse apple worth of difference to me if I see your mug splayed out all over the morning paper. You don’t want to level with me; I can’t help. If you liked me, you wouldn’t string me around and expect me not to be sore about it.”
Candi’s bottom lip quivered, “So you don’t like me?”
I gave her a sideward glance. I couldn’t tell what she was about, and it was making me mad.
She started to slide over next to me, and I waved her away. She settled back into her spot. A moment later, she tried it again, and this time I gave her the stiff arm.
“Look, I don’t do bullshit well, and you should respect that even if you don’t respect yourself enough not to come on to a man who you don’t really know.” Who was I to read her the riot act? I was sitting there thinking two things, how to have my cake and catch the bad guys too.
“How am I supposed to get to know you? You keep shoving me away when I try to get close,” she sort of whined at me, and it pissed me off.
“What’s to know? You called the dispatch this morning to report a fight. A fight that was over and gone before I got there, less than a minute after I got the call. Not a stick of furniture out of place in the joint, and you’re all ix-nay and hush about it while I’m in the place. Probably because your two piezanos back there were putting the screws to the joint’s owner, or maybe you were planning to pay them off in trade. What about this guy, Bull McCaffrey? Where was he? Y’know if he shows up with an extra opening someplace that sort of let the life leak out of him, we will charge you as an accessory to murder. You will be arrested, tried, and most likely sent off to the Union County chicken shack.” I was pissed, and over the top.
She wept quietly as we traveled across town and I was beginning to think I had gone too far. She just sat there with her hands clasped in her lap. She looked out the window periodically, but mostly she sat there and muttered to herself from time to time.
When I turned onto Center Street, she looked up at me with mascara running. “I want to tell you everything, okay, but if they find out, they’ll kill you too. I’m sure they think I already talked, so I gotta get out of town tonight or I will be on the front page of your paper tomorrow. These guys don’t play around, and I’m not kidding. I’ve seen them muscle people around, right there in the bar, but the stuff I heard about is even worse than that.” She was starting to spill and I needed to be writing this stuff down, so I stepped on the gas and had us at her house a minute later.
“Let’s go in, and I will take your statement. I can even call someone to take an official police report. That way if something happens, there is an official record.” I tried to reassure her, “We can keep you safe.”
She smiled at me from behind her raccoon mask. “You’re so gallant. Is that what you want Thurman, to be my hero?”
I shrugged, “I don’t set out that way, it’s just what I do.” I wasn’t being some kind of self-righteous bastard. It was true.
I cut off the engine and we got out of the car. She took my hand and when I started to resist, she held it with both of hers.
“I’ll tell you my piece of it, and you can decide if you need to call someone else for me to talk to. I don’t like the idea of talking to the police about what’s going on any better than I like the idea of them coming after me to kill me, or do God knows what else, but I like the idea of prison less than I like any of the rest of it…” She trailed off.
Inside, we sat on the sofa and I opened my pad. I slipped the pen out of the coil binding and gave it a click. I dated the sheet of paper and referenced it to the original call to White Walls, on the brawl complaint.
“Okay, I want you to write a statement about the events of today, then I’m gonna read it back to you, and I’ll want you to fill in the details of anything that you wish to clarify. After that I’ll decide if I need to call the detectives.” I said it as professionally as I could, but she still looked scared. I held out the notepad and the pen.
She was kneading her fingers, first one hand then the other. “D’you want a drink? I need a drink,” she said. Her voice was small and laced with nerves. She got up and went to the kitchen, returning a minute later with two bottles of beer; one of the pilsner, and one of the stout.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my key ring. I used the church key to open her bottle, and in turn my own. She took a sip of her beer and then started writing. I took several pulls on my bottle and enjoyed the thick, smoky flavor of the stout. I sat back into the deep sofa and started to relax. The beer was good, and Candi was a nice enough girl. I watched her write for a couple of minutes, and then I took another sip of beer, laid my head back against the cushion, and closed my eyes.
Sometime later, I heard footsteps creaking across the floor, and someone took the bottle of beer from my hand. I figure it was Candi, because I felt her soft touch against my skin. I tried to force open my eyes but tiredness had a grip on me that I was finding hard to break. I relaxed again and sleep started to take me.
‘Wake up, sleepy boy,” Candi whispered in my ear. I heard it, but I didn’t immediately connect with where I was, or that I was really asleep.
“Yeah, wake up sleeping beauty,” said an angry, abrasive voice. This one startled me and I opened my eyes.
The weasel and the beefcake were standing across the room. The weasel held a familiar looking pistol. Beefcake’s nose was crooked and, and his eyes were both blackened. Candi sat nearby, holding the notebook and looking scared.
I was still trying to puzzle it out and fight the sleep out of my head. I was starting to wake up, but I still couldn’t figure it—had she let them in, or did they force their way?
Then I remembered that the Ghia was in the drive when I got here this evening.
“Son of a bitch,” was all I could say.
“I don’t know, I never knew your mother,” the weasel said in his swizzled little voice, like a queer Colonel Klink I thought.
“I’m a cop,” I started off, thinking maybe they’d tuck tail and run.
“Yes, so we gather from our mutual friend.” He gestured to Candi, who gave me her sad little smile. “I have some questions for you,” he said, as he sat down. “Candi assures me that she has told you nothing, and yet, when I arrive here, I find her alone with you and writing a statement in your notebook...”
I looked at him like he was crazy. Who did he think he was? Serializing and monologuing like some dime detective novel villain. The Shadow wasn’t coming to save me, so I had to start thinking—Fast.
Just then, Beefcake pulled a chair over in front of me. For a minute, I thought he was gonna sit in my lap.
“How’s your nose asshole?”
He looked at me like he wanted to carve my liver, but it was Candi’s giggle that sent him over the edge. “Shut up, you little bitch.”
She might have had that coming.
He backhanded her a second later, and her lower lip cracked and started to bleed.
She didn’t have that one comin’, no matter how it might have smarted. I had no idea what it was between those two, but it was plain even to the casual bystander that they didn’t like each other much.
“Joshua, is it?”
He gave me this look, like a bully who’s had his bluff called.
“Joshua, you ain’t much of a man to hit a lady.”
He laughed, “Get up here Candi; show this pig what kinda man I am.”
I looked at her, and for a minute I thought she was gonna dissolve right int
o that couch. Meanwhile, the weasel had moved around, tryin’ to get a better look at the fray.
“Look, Joshua, I ain’t workin’ at Carmine’s no more, and I don’t do that business anymore.”
He laughed again, and looked at the weasel for encouragement. The weasel was resting his foot on the coffee table now, leaning on his gun hand, and watching Joshua’s monkeyshines.
“Get up here and take it, goddamn it. Carmine gave you to me and you’re gonna be mine one way or the other.” He reached for her. “Unless of course you want to give me their money; then maybe we’ll go away. Maybe we’ll even let you get the hell out of town.” His eyes flicked between Candi and me. “After.”
This wasn’t goin’ anyplace good, anytime soon. I needed to make a move, but I had to make sure they were payin’ more attention to her than to me, if I was getting off the couch.
Beefcake grabbed Candi by the arm and jerked her to her feet. I started to get up, but the weasel gave me the look and waved his pistol at me. I was just checkin’ him and readjusting my weight for my moment. As I settled, I remembered my piece.
“Hey pig, you like this?”
He fanned her around showin’ her off to me like I was gonna bid on her or something. He shoved her head down toward me so I could see down her cleavage and then turned her around, showing off her back porch.
I sat unfazed, watching the weasel out of the corner of my eye. He was into this sick little show, so I started planning my move.
The beefcake was holding Candi’s head down, strong-arming her, and she was crying painfully.
“What about this, pig? You think you’d wanna get some of that?” Candi was really crying now, pain, and shame clear on her face as she pleaded with him to stop.
I’d had enough before he pushed her dress up over her hips, and folded it over her lower back; and by the time he tore away her silky, string bikini panties, I was in action.
I jumped up from the couch and slammed my fist right into his kisser, mashing his broken nose flat. When the weasel started to raise the gun, I gave him the one-two and he sank to the floor, unconscious. I drew my gun and jammed it against the back of Joshua’s head, while he tried feebly to raise himself.
“You’re havin’ a real bad night pal. If I was you, I’d let bygones be bygones.” He turned his head to look at me and I gave him some chin music.
I reached for Candi and pulled her to me. I inspected her lip and pushed her dress down over her bare bottom.
“C’mon Thurman, let’s get out of here.”
I shook my head. I had it in my mind to hook these two yo-yo’s up with a one way ticket to county.
“Go call the cops.”
She looked up at me with those damned doe eyes again. I really should have given her some chin music just then and went on my merry way, but as I may have failed to mention, I’m weak on dames.
“He was gonna rape me, but you saved me.”
She put her arms around my neck and bawled.
“Call the cops while they’re down.”
“Oh baby, just get me out of here. Let’s go to your place.”
She raised her leg and crossed it behind mine. She rubbed herself against me, changing my channel with no effort at all.
I holstered my gun and took her by the hand. I marched her to the door, opened it and she looked back across the room.
“I need my purse.”
“Up to you. I’m goin’ to the car. If you’re in it, when it leaves, you can come along.”
She cowed me with those big brown eyes, and I felt my thick Candi shell start to melt.
“Hurry up.”
I went out the door while she went for her purse. To that point, I really didn’t remember seeing a purse, at least not like I think of a purse, but she had to take that cigarette case and lighter out of somewhere.
I’d made my ride and was pulling away from the curb, when she came to the door. I looked from her to the door and back before I unlocked it.
“You weren’t bullshitting?”
She was trying to bust my balls, but I wasn’t having any of it.
“Like I told you before, I’m generally not capable of it.”
“Good, maybe you aren’t capable of hitting a woman.”
“I’m considering taking it up.”
She pulled a bag of ice from somewhere and held it to her swollen cheek. Her lip was fat and her words were a bit slurred. She was quiet for the moment while I drove us away from there.
I was pissed and felt half-baked, but I hadn’t had much more than that shorty at White Walls, and that stout at Candi’s. I took Center Street down to High Street and turned right. I cruised through downtown, trying to clear my head; but when I just about had it done, Candi ruined it.
“You might as well hit me, Thurman, every other man does.”
I looked at her, waiting on her to ask me to take her back to that house. I was wondering if she was sharing it, maybe with that beefcake, or the weasel; maybe both, now that I think of it. she was whining about some pretty kinky stuff when the beefcake had her bent over.
“I don’t know. Every time I think I like you, somebody sticks a gun in my face.”
“I know and I’m sorry.”
Like I said, I’m weak on broads. I was weaker still on broads who sounded pathetic.
“Maybe now would be a good time for you to tell me the truth, without all the business?”
I was enjoying her being quiet for the moment. It was almost ten o’clock and I was getting hungry. I thought we were gonna have a date. I could still taste the steak I’d missed out on at the National Road Grille.
‘If I take you for a steak will you tell me why these guys are so hard on you talking to a cop?”
Her eyes shined when she smiled up at me. She was something, fat lip and all. Hotter than a ten dollar car.
“I must really look like hell. I bet you really wanted to get the run around by some barmaid and her screwed up life. You’re probably thinking about how fast you can unload me.”
She sounded so honest just then, I started to fall for it. I was trying to puzzle her out. She was beautiful. Tall and leggy like I like ‘em. She wasn’t a stick, but not an ounce was wasted anywhere. She had good meat on her bones in all the best places. Dark hair, and I told you about them big brown eyes. I’d call her a 36D easy. The rest of the package was probably in the neighborhood of a small, tight 26, with her fenders no more than 35. I didn’t need a tape measure to recognize a well-built dame when I saw one.
The dress she wore didn’t leave a lot to the imagination, and thanks to her and the beefcake, I’d had any gaps in my assessment pretty well filled in. I was thinking about her legs the next time she spoke.
“Do you think there’s any chance you might be able to forget everything that’s happened so far?”
I started to shoot back at her, but I swear she looked so pathetic just then, I didn’t have the heart. I should have let her have it with both barrels.
“Candi, I’m a forgiving person in most cases, but I don’t forget. You can’t, not in my business, or you get dead in a hurry.”
“If we can start over from square one, I’d like to take you up on that steak.”
I gave her the eye and she smiled up at me again with those big brown eyes. With the squirrels and perps I run across on the job, I might be a bear, but for a dame in trouble I’m a big fat sucker.
“It’s almost ten. The only place to get a decent steak at this hour is the truck stop. You okay with that?”
She gave me one of her better smiles. The best one was yet to come, but this one wasn’t bad as far as smiles go. That is, the smiles from perfectly built, all natural beauties, right before they stick a knife in your gut and kiss you deadly, before walking off with whatever means the most to you.
“You mean the place out there on the highway?”
“Yeah, between here and Loudon on the interstate. It’s a ten mile trip, but the food is top notch.”
S
he got excited just then and scooted over next to me. She smoothed out her dress and checked herself out in the mirror. Her hair wasn’t too bad, but her makeup was a bit smudged, what with crying and getting slapped around. I noticed her perfume just then and it was the kind of stuff that smelled sort of soft, but candy-like.
“Cool, this is going to be like an adventure.”
We left downtown on High Street and headed into the east side. We crossed Lime Street and passed St. Bernard’s on the right, and the big Methodist Church on the left. This was Irish Hill, formerly a very ethnic working class neighborhood. Now it was just a dying residential slum on the edge of a dead industrial slum.
We passed the Catholic High School and started climbing the long hill that led through the historic district. I drove past the former mansions of the Champion City elite, Asa Bushnell, Burton J. Westcott, and John Foos.
“Did you ever wonder about what life was like back when those guys were still around?”
She looked out at the expansive grounds of the Westcott place and I thought she was actually going to break down.
“Nah, not really. I grew up so poor that when the news said money was getting tight, we couldn’t tell.”
I gave her the nod. We were by no means well-off when I was coming up either.
“Yeah, I know how that is. My dad was a cop and for a long time Mom didn’t work. She kept the house and made sure that my old man’s dinner was ready to hit the table, no matter what time he might come home.”
“I told you about my mom. I had so many uncles, you’d a thought she had sixty-two brothers.”
I tried hard, but couldn’t contain my laugh.
“Well what do you know? My teddy bear can laugh after all.”
She was dangerous. Cute, and knew exactly what to say, even to a stick in the mud like me. So much for riding my lead balloon. I sat there starting to puddle. I found myself thinking about what it might be like to spend time with her on a regular day. Meanwhile, I drove us through Geron Glen on the way to the interstate.
“So White Walls belonged to one of your uncles?”
I didn’t really expect to get the truth out of her, but I was at least hoping that she would tell me the same lie as the last time.