by Jeri Estes
“I had no idea you were planning this store for me.”
“Why the hell do you think I was so anxious to go and see my bookkeeper? I’ve had this game plan for a long time. I don’t tell everybody my shit, bitch. Now grab your mink, it’s chilly outside.”
As if she hadn’t heard a word I said, she said to me tenderly, “Kiss me,”
“We’ll never get out of here,” I growled. I grabbed her and kissed her long and passionately.
Caught in the moment, I whispered, “I love you.” She melted in my arms. I regained my composure and said, “Now, let’s get the fuck out of here!”
Carmen grabbed her arctic white fox wrap and we were out the door. After a brisk walk through a light drizzle and impending fog we arrived at Compton’s.
Our arrival caused a stir in the crowded restaurant. Half the queens of the Tenderloin were there in their long gowns, fake furs and cheap wigs. Their happy chatter flew across the
tables. Each synthetic bitch tried to verbally beat back her opponent’s volley of cheap-talkin’, witty trash.
Carmen and I were greeted from the back booth in the corner by the warm smiles of Joe and Junior. My shadows were having a cup of coffee and shootin’ the shit in Spanish. While covering my back they were watching the restaurant’s entertaining floor show.
Across from them sat a few queens that were notorious for causing a riot in Compton’s. All hell broke loose in August 1966 when one of them quietly refused to go to jail for impersonating a lady. As she was being dragged out to the Black Mariah, she threw a cup of coffee in the cop’s face. Warrior queens started beating the pigs with their purses and high heels all the way down Turk Street. Lesbian commandos threw sugar shakers through windows, and burned down Tommy’s newspaper stand for good measure. We made headlines that night because it was the first time queers fought back in San Francisco’s history. I tipped my Stetson to the ladies as we passed.
Carmen and I went over to our favorite table by the window, which the regulars knew not to occupy. Just as we were sitting down, Miss Zada stumbled over to us. She adjusted her falsies in her red halter top as she spoke.
“Carmen, you look beautiful! I would die for that coat.”
Miss Penny came over and pulled Zada away slurring, “Come on, queen. Let’s get out of here before they pour us into a Black Mariah.”
“You tell her, Penny. It’s a hassle getting you ladies out of the tank!” I playfully reminded the inebriated party girls as they left Compton’s.
Karen came over to take our order. “You girls want your usual?”
“That sounds good, Karen,” I replied.
“You got it, ladies.” She set two cups of coffee down in front of us. They nestled on clean white paper doilies in beige ceramic saucers. Karen gave us a smile and marched off toward the kitchen.
Carmen and I sat quietly. Her fingers were intertwined with mine as she rubbed the rim of her coffee cup absentmindedly. We contently waited for our meal.
All of a sudden, I was distracted by a shiny object that caught my eye outside the window. The dark night and the reflection on the window cast a large shadow above Carmen. I saw the Star of David with a glint of diamond, then a red spark fly out of the barrel of the gun. I heard glass shatter and felt a spray across my face as a burning pain bore into my chest. I fell back, seeing Prince shooting at me through the glass as I collapsed to the floor. My hands were in front of me and all I could see were red flames.
Lying on the floor, I heard screams, gunshots and Carmen’s labored breathing. She lay next to me, her face drained of life. Blood dripped from her mouth as she gasped for breath. Her eyes pleaded and in a second they closed.
Desperately I grabbed her. Taking her in my arms, I cried into her ear and felt the cold emerald earrings touch my lips. “Wake up! Wake up, Carmen! Wake up!” A wild groan poured out of my soul.
I saw black-and-white spectator shoes before me. Suddenly, I was pulled from the floor and cradled in Joe Gomez’s big arms. My hands were covered in Carmen’s blood. My voice screamed into the still-frozen restaurant. Fighting to break loose of Joe’s grasp, I yelled woozily, “Let go! Let me go! Carmen! Carmen!”
Junior ran ahead of us. I saw her weapon drawn as she shouted to Joe, “Get her in the car!” In a blur, everybody around me remained pinned to the floor. Joe followed her out the door as Junior fired at the fleeing purple El Dorado.
My face hit the cold leather seat and I heard the door slam shut. I couldn’t understand why all this warm blood covered my chest. As the car roared away, I fell into darkness.
Chapter 34
THE RUSE
I sat in the solitude of Bunny’s library, awash in memories of Carmen. Holding Carmen’s childhood catechism book of prayers, I leafed through the pages. Her mother had Phyllis deliver it to me to help comfort me in this trying time.
Fresh bouquets filled the room along with cards of well wishers. The rest of Bunny’s home was decorated in modern sixties décor, accented by an excess of femininity. Wisely, she had left the library in its original Victorian elegance.
Her home had served as my hospital for the past two weeks as I recovered. Like an angel of mercy, Bunny attended to my every need while allowing me to heal. As I set Carmen’s prayer book aside, a nuclear rage bellowed in my gut. I asked God to forgive me. Turning the other cheek was not an option for me or my crew.
Prince’s bullet had missed my heart by an inch that night at Compton’s. My body was healing, but my soul lingered in a black abyss. Fortunately, my enemies believed that I had died. Soon my troops and I were going into battle, using my false demise to spring a trap.
My plans for a truce certainly hadn’t worked out. But no one could have seen it coming. Giuseppe’s release, our bargaining chip, had failed. He had been discovered hanging in the shower room with his pants dangling around his ankles. He’d been slit from his belly to his sternum.
Prince immediately assumed that I had ordered his brother’s murder. His reasoning I could understand. What baffled me is how Prince knew I would be at Compton’s. It had been my first night out after weeks of hiding. Only my people knew where I was going. Like flipping through a Rolodex, my mind searched for the rat in my crew.
In my analysis, I utilized the detective’s tried and true trinity; motive, means and opportunity. Only my inner circle had been aware that Carmen and I would be at Compton’s that night: Joe, Junior, Marie, Bunny and Rosie. They all had the means. Any one of them could have contacted Prince by a runner or by dropping a dime. Prince provided the opportunity because he had the fire power and the rage.
Joe could have taken me out at any time if he were after the hit money. But if he didn’t stay steadily employed, he’d go back to the joint. Junior also could have made fast cash, but I knew she’d never work with Prince. Marie and Bunny not only loved me, but for them, I was more valuable alive. Rosie believed that I was retiring from pimping and moving to the burbs with Carmen. That pointed the finger at her. I hadn’t forgotten Rosie’s jealous tantrum and glare of death which still haunted me.
We would take no prisoners. My coveted humanity had died on the cold floor of Compton’s. Mercy had been strangled out of me by the hands of necessity.
Bunny’s soft voice interrupted my thoughts as she entered the room.
“Honey, I want you to take your antibiotics. Even Al Capone was not immune to infection.”
My little Florence Nightingale was right. I took my antibiotics and washed them down with a shot of Jack.
Bunny reminded me, “Don’t forget to drink water, like the doctor said.”
“Okay.” I replied as I sipped some water too.
I lit up a Pall Mall. I took a deep drag, expanding my chest muscles. They pulled tight, painfully stretching the recently formed scar above my heart.
While I had been under emergency surgery, Bunny had been at work securing my future safety. Bunny assured Captain Clancy that we would offer the police our full cooperation. She had convinced Clancy to tel
l the public that I had died en route to the hospital. Like all cowards, the perp would brag and hang himself. Clancy agreed and told the newspapers to report:
“two homos fatally shot at compton’s gun battle.”
The runners and whores who spread the word did a great job. The pimp parasites believed that Animal, Red and the rest of my bikers had fled.
Prince and his boys had been rippin’ and runnin’ through the Tenderloin, talking trash about how none of my crew had the balls to return. Those sick, limp-dick chumps were drunk on the bullshit dope we fed them. Clancy’s investigation, however, was not going as he’d expected. Like every other crime in the TL, no one had seen or heard anything.
Avenging Carmen would be my personal task. We lived by our own code and would handle this street style.
“Jesse, Captain Clancy called earlier to see how you were doing. I thought that was very sweet of him,” Bunny informed me.
“That’s nice of him,” I replied, distracted by my recent obsession.
“Jesse, do you feel you’re ready for taking care of business? You seem a little preoccupied.”
“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. What’s bugging the hell out of me is who the fuck dropped the dime?”
Bunny sighed and said, “Little Rosie’s been distraught, insisting she’s innocent. She appears to be genuinely sad.”
“I don’t know,” I said. Rosie hadn’t been there that night. “I wish I could find out before she gets on that boat with Prince tomorrow night. No matter how painful it is for me, I’ll order Joe to take her out if she’s the guilty one.”
The doorbell rang. “It’s probably Pearl,” Bunny said and got up to answer the door.
I had come up with a plan of how to kill Prince and his crew without leaving a trace. This time he would feel the sting of a woman’s revenge. This was personal, and I had to show the boys I could run the Tenderloin.
Asian Pearl and Little Rosie had infiltrated the enemy’s camp easily. They had convinced Prince that they were now his whores. A few days ago they had started to work for Prince, setting the stage for tomorrow’s mission.
Prince believed he was the new King Pimp of the Tenderloin. He thought that all the lezzy whores who had worked for me now desired his big dick. He was willing to expand his business with the cured queers. Asian Pearl had gone so far as to convince him that she had brokered a lucrative deal on their behalf by purchasing kidnapped, virgin sex slaves from China.
Soon the undercover hookers, Pearl and Rosie, would be escorting my enemies onto the Floating Dragon. Asian Pearl’s father’s boat was often used in smuggling operations. Prince and his men believed they were in for a festive night at sea. While cruising, they would enjoy cocktails and a seafood buffet. They would rendezvous with a Chinese cargo ship holding the sex slaves. What he didn’t know was that the Floating Dragon’s friendly crewmen were my hired assassins.
Asian Pearl entered the library, dressed in a black leather trench coat and dark sunglasses. The shades in this late evening hour made her look like a genuine Mata Hari. Bunny fixed Pearl a scotch on the rocks.
Pearl greeted me with, “Respect, Jesse.” Surprisingly she asked, “How you feeling?”
I viewed the ice princess with a new perspective. The hardened street bitch was right. If I had hired Scope, all of this heinous mayhem could have been prevented.
“Hey, how are you doing, Pearl? Dealing with Prince must be some kind of experience.”
Pearl took a cigarette from a crystal cigarette holder on the coffee table. She lit it with the heavy matching table lighter. She removed her shades and looked me in the eye. “He’s easy next to dealing with Rosie twenty-four seven.”
In spite of myself I chuckled. “I can imagine. A pain in the ass is one thing, but a dime dropper is another. I hope for her sake she’s not. How’s your mission coming along?”
“I just left the Booker T. Washington bar. Everything is good to go. Prince, the dumb limp-dick, bought the story hook, line and sinker,” Pearl said with a sly smile. “He has no idea he’ll be shark bait by this time tomorrow night.”
“That’s good. At least he’ll die along with his friends after they’re sliced and diced and tossed from the stern as chum.”
Bunny reached over and took my hand. Her soft fingers reminded me to be civilized. “Jesse, the sharks will seem merciful after Joe deals with him. Just the thought of it sends shivers down my spine.”
“Prince handed me this.” Pearl dropped an envelope of cash on the table. “It’s his half of the deposit for the sex slaves. The bastard said something interesting when we were having a drink.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“He said it was about time Rosie and I joined his stable, since Linda from Missouri had jumped ship weeks ago.”
Bunny’s voice expressed the shock that I felt. “So that’s where the bitch has been!” Venom seeped through her lips she continued, “I wonder if the bitch collected the five grand on Jesse’s head as well!”
“Now I can’t trust that Missouri bitch or Rosie,” I said, dismayed.
“Jesse, I’m gonna get to the bottom of this! I’m going to visit the Why Not bar,” Bunny exclaimed.
Pearl and I looked over at her in surprise. I asked, “Why are you going to that cop bar?”
Bunny replied calmly, “In detective movies, they always say, ‘return to the scene of the crime.’ This all started with Giuseppe’s death. I’ll go talk to the guards that were on duty when he got shanked.”
“Hopefully we’ll find the Judas before my crew leaves shore. You don’t have much time,” I said.
“You’ll be surprised what I can find out in just a few minutes,” Bunny replied.
Pearl and I didn’t respond, knowing that we had just heard the truth.
“Bunny, do you mind if I talk to Pearl alone for a moment?”
“Not at all, honey, I’m excited about all this.” She kissed me on the cheek and exited the room.
“Pearl, would you like another scotch?” I asked.
Pearl gave me a suspicious look. “No, thanks, I’m cool.”
I took a sip of my Jack. “Pearl, I’ve had time to think. You were right and I was wrong. I should have hired Scope like you suggested. I didn’t want to carry the weight of that sin. Later I realized not killing my enemy was suicide. I’ve always been told that suicide is the greatest sin.”
Pearl took a drag of her cigarette as I indulged in my musing. “You’ve turned out to be my best soldier in the trenches.”
Pearl’s eyes moistened, startling me, for I’d never seen a trace of emotion in them before.
“Pearl, I’m promoting you to the rank of captain. I’ll let my soldiers know that you’re in charge of the Prince assignment.”
“Jesse, I think I’ll take that other scotch now.”
I got up and poured my geisha a drink.
Chapter 35
BABY DOLL
The powerful engine of the Lincoln Town Car rumbled as we neared the docks. I watched the lights of San Francisco pass with Bunny by my side. The Asian emperor of crime’s henchman sat shotgun while his wheelman maneuvered through the shipyard. The stoic escorts kept their eyes on the road. Under each of their right ears was a large, black orchid tattoo. The hired muscle wore the logo of their mob boss with pride.
My high-powered rifle was stashed in the trunk. It had been a gift from Scope. The Vietnam special ops soldier had also supplied my crew members with miniature walkie-talkies. He had personally wired Asian Pearl’s bosom with the assistance of his lover Joy Luck, Pearl’s cousin.
My post would be on top of a cargo container, overlooking the Floating Dragon. Bunny had insisted I wear a heavy overcoat with a fur collar due to the seasonally cold weather. She was dressed for the occasion, wearing skin-tight, black leather pants and stiletto-heeled boots. On her head she donned a tilted, black mink beret.
Placing her hand on my knee, Bunny slid closer to me.
“Jesse, I had a
very interesting chat with a few cops earlier today.” Mysteriously she opened her purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Intrigued, I asked, “What did you find out?”
“Well, it so happens that Giuseppe had a violent argument with a fellow inmate a week before he was stabbed. The most helpful guard told me that man is under suspicion for his murder. He also informed me that the gentlemen’s name was Calvert. It rang a bell.”
“Calvert,” I replied. “That does sound familiar.”
“The reason it sounds familiar, honey, is because we’ve both heard it before. Calvert Lee Tucker is Linda from Missouri’s husband!”
“You gotta be kidding me!” I cried.
“No, and it so happens that Giuseppe and Calvert had the same brunette visiting them. I followed up with one of my best johns, a detective. He ran everything down for me. It’s definitely Linda. When Giuseppe was in jail on the heroin charge, so was Linda’s redneck husband. They didn’t know they had something in common – Linda was visiting them both at county jail — one in the morning and one at night. The treasonous hick bitch was playing Giuseppe against her old man. I guess she enjoyed the tension or she wanted to get the contract money. Her husband got jealous and shanked Giuseppe.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Giuseppe rapes her, tortures her, and her old man uses her for a punching bag. What’s up with that?”
“Jesse you’ll never understand women.”
“I guess not, but I do know when I’ve been betrayed.”
“Just to make sure, I asked the sweet jailhouse guard to let me take a peek at the visitors’ log.”
Bunny slipped the folded piece of paper into my hand. I switched on the overhead light and read. Linda Sue Tucker’s name appeared twice on the roster the day before Giuseppe had been killed.
Bunny looked at me intensely. “Linda is twisted Jesse. She loves cruel men. That’s why she married Calvert.” Her lips pressed together tightly. “It’s always the ones who swim sideways that you can’t see coming.”