“Yeah,” Ziggy said. “I seen her give it to you. What’s the score on that routine?”
“No score,” Freddy said. He went on grinning. “It’s a funny way to end a game. Nothing on the scoreboard. Nothing at all.”
Ziggy frowned. “You trying to tell me something?”
Freddy looked at the whiskey in the water glass. He said, “I packed her in.”
“No,” Ziggy said. His tone was incredulous. “Not Pearl. Not that pigeon. That ain’t no ordinary merchandise. You wouldn’t walk out on Pearl unless you had a very special reason.”
“It was special, all right.”
“Tell me about it, Freddy.” There was something plaintive in Ziggy’s voice, a certain feeling for Freddy that he couldn’t put into words. The closest he could get to it was: “After all, I’m on your side, ain’t I?”
“No,” Freddy said. The grin was slowly fading. “You’re on Herman’s side.” He gazed past Ziggy’s head. “We’re all on Herman’s side.”
“Herman? What’s he got to do with it?”
“Everything,” Freddy said. “Herman’s the boss, remember?” He looked at the swollen fingers of Ziggy’s right hand. “If Herman wants something done, it’s got to be done. He gave me orders to break with Pearl. He’s the employer and I’m the hired man, so I did what I had to do. I carried out his orders.”
Ziggy was quiet for some moments. Then, very quietly, “Well, it figures he wants her for himself. But it don’t seem right. It just ain’t fair.”
“Don’t make me laugh,” Freddy said. “Who the hell are we to say what’s fair?”
“We’re human, aren’t we?”
“No,” Freddy said. He gazed past Ziggy’s head. “I don’t know what we are. But I know one thing, we’re not human. We can’t afford to be human, not in this line of business.”
Ziggy didn’t get it. It was just a little too deep for him. All he could say was “You getting funny ideas?”
“I’m not reaching for them, they’re just coming to me.”
“Take another drink,” Ziggy said.
“I’d rather have the laughs.” Freddy showed the grin again. “It’s really comical, you know? Especially this thing with Pearl. I was thinking of calling it quits anyway. You know how it is with me, Ziggy. I never like to be tied down to one skirt. But tonight Pearl said something that spun me around. We were talking outside the club and she brought it in out of left field. She asked me to take her for a walk in the park.”
Ziggy blinked a few times. “What?”
“A walk in the park,” Freddy said.
“What for?” Ziggy wanted to know. “She gettin’ square all of a sudden? She wanna go around picking flowers?”
“I don’t know,” Freddy said. “All she said was ‘It’s very nice in Fairmount Park.’ She asked me to take her there and we’d be together in the park, just taking a walk.”
Ziggy pointed to the glass. “You better take that drink.”
Freddy reached for the glass. But someone else’s hand was there first. He saw the thick soft fingers, the soft green glow of the star emerald. As the glass of whiskey was shoved out of his reach, he looked up and saw the soft smile on the face of Herman Charn.
“Too much liquor is bad for the kidneys,” Herman said. He bent down lower to peer at Freddy’s eyes. “You look knocked out, Freddy. There’s a soft couch in the office. Go in there and lie down for a while.”
Freddy got up from the chair. He was somewhat unsteady on his feet. Herman took his arm and helped him make it down the aisle, past the tables to the door of the office. He could feel the pressure of Herman’s hand on his arm. It was very soft pressure but somehow it felt like a clamp of iron biting into his flesh.
Herman opened the office door and guided him toward the couch. He fell onto the couch, sent an idiotic grin toward the ceiling, then closed his eyes and went to sleep.
~ * ~
He slept until four-forty in the morning. The sound that woke him up was a scream.
At first it was all blurred, there was too much whiskey-fog in his brain, he had no idea where he was or what was happening. He pushed his knuckles against his eyes. Then, sitting up, he focused on the faces in the room. He saw Shikey and Riley and they had girls sitting in their laps. They were on the other couch at the opposite side of the room. He saw Dino standing near the couch with his arm around the waist of a slim brunette. Then he glanced toward the door and he saw Ziggy. That made seven faces for him to look at. He told himself to keep looking at them. If he concentrated on that, maybe he wouldn’t hear the screaming.
But he heard it. The scream was an animal sound and yet he recognized the voice. It came from near the desk, and he turned his head very slowly, telling himself he didn’t want to look but knowing he had to look.
He saw Pearl kneeling on the floor. Herman stood behind her. With one hand he was twisting her arm up high between her shoulder blades. His other hand was on her head and he was pulling her hair so that her face was drawn back, her throat stretched.
Herman spoke very softly. “You make me very unhappy, Pearl. I don’t like to be unhappy.”
Then Herman gave her arm another upward twist and pulled tighter on her hair and she screamed again.
The girl in Shikey’s lap gave Pearl a scornful look and said, “You’re a damn fool.”
“In spades.” It came from the stripper who nestled against Riley. “All he wants her to do is kiss him like she means it.”
Freddy told himself to get up and walk out of the room. He lifted himself from the couch and took a few steps toward the door and heard Herman saying, “Not yet, Freddy. I’ll tell you when to go.”
He went back to the couch and sat down.
Herman said, “Be sensible, Pearl. Why can’t you be sensible?”
Pearl opened her mouth to scream again. But no sound came out. There was too much pain and it was choking her.
The brunette who stood with Dino was saying, “It’s a waste of time, Herman, she can’t give you what she hasn’t got. She just don’t have it for you, Herman.”
“She’ll have it for him,” Dino said. “Before he’s finished, he’ll have her crawling on her belly.”
Herman looked at Dino. “No,” he said. “She won’t do that. I wouldn’t let her do that.” He cast a downward glance at Pearl. His lips shaped a soft smile. There was something tender in the smile and in his voice. “Pearl, tell me something, why don’t you want me?”
He gave her a chance to reply, his fingers slackening the grip on her wrist and her hair. She groaned a few times and then she said, “You got my body, Herman. You can have my body anytime you want it.”
“That isn’t enough,” Herman said. “I want you all the way, a hundred percent. It’s got to be like that, Pearl. You’re in me so deep it just can’t take any other route. It’s got to be you and me from here on in, you gotta need me just as much as I need you.”
“But Herman —” She gave a dry sob. “I can’t lie to you. I just don’t feel that way.”
“You’re gonna feel that way,” Herman said.
“No.” Pearl sobbed again. “No. No.”
“Why not?” He was pulling her hair again, twisting her arm. But it seemed he was suffering more than Pearl. The pain racked his pleading voice. “Why can’t you feel something for me?”
Her reply was made without sound. She managed to turn her head just a little, toward the couch. And everyone in the room saw her looking at Freddy.
Herman’s face became very pale. His features tightened and twisted and it seemed he was about to burst into tears. He stared up at the ceiling.
Herman shivered. His body shook spasmodically, as though he stood on a vibrating platform. Then all at once the tormented look faded from his eyes, the iron came into his eyes, and the soft smile came onto his lips. He released Pearl, turned away from her, went to the desk, and opened the cigarette box. It was very quiet in the room while Herman stood there lighting the cigarette. He too
k a slow, easy drag and then he said quietly, “All right, Pearl, you can go home now.”
She started to get up from the floor. The brunette came over and helped her up.
“I’ll call a cab for you,” Herman said. He reached for the telephone and put in the call. As he lowered the phone, he was looking at Pearl and saying, “You want to go home alone?”
Pearl didn’t say anything. Her head was lowered and she was leaning against the shoulder of the brunette.
Herman said, “You want Freddy to take you home?”
Pearl raised her head just a little and looked at the face of Freddy Lamb.
Herman laughed softly. “All right,” he said. “Freddy’ll take you home.”
Freddy winced. He sat there staring at the carpet.
Herman told the brunette to fix a drink for Pearl. He said, “Take her to the bar and give her anything she wants.” He motioned to the other girls and they got up from the laps of Shikey and Riley. Then all the girls walked out of the room. Herman was quiet for some moments, taking slow drags at the cigarette and looking at the door. Then gradually his head turned and he looked at Freddy. He said, “You’re slated, Freddy.”
Freddy went on staring at the carpet.
“You’re gonna bump her,” Herman said.
Freddy closed his eyes.
“Take her somewhere and bump her and bury her,” Herman said.
Shikey and Riley looked at each other. Dino had his mouth open and he was staring at Herman. Standing next to the door, Ziggy had his eyes glued to Freddy’s face.
“She goes,” Herman said. And then, speaking aloud to himself, “She goes because she gives me grief.” He hit his hand against his chest. “She hits me here, where I live. Hits me too hard. Hurts me. I don’t appreciate getting hurt. Especially here.” Again his hand thumped his chest. He said, “You’ll do it, Freddy. You’ll see to it that I get rid of the hurt.”
“Let me do it,” Ziggy said. Herman shook his head. He pointed a finger at Freddy. His finger jabbed empty air, and he said, “Freddy does it. Freddy.”
Ziggy opened his mouth, tried to close it, couldn’t close it, and blurted, “Why take it out on him?”
“That’s a stupid question,” Herman said mildly. “I’m not taking it out on anybody. I’m giving the job to Freddy because I know he’s dependable. I can always depend on Freddy.”
Ziggy made a final, frantic try. “Please, Herman,” he said. “Please don’t make him do it.”
Herman didn’t bother to reply. All he did was give Ziggy a slow appraising look up and down. It was like a soundless warning to Ziggy, letting him know he was walking on thin ice and the ice would crack if he opened his mouth again.
Then Herman turned to Freddy and said, “Where’s your blade?”
“Stashed,” Freddy said. He was still staring at the carpet.
Herman opened a desk drawer. He took out a black-handled switchblade. “Use this,” he said, coming toward the couch. He handed the knife to Freddy. “Give it a try,” he said.
Freddy pressed the button. The blade flicked out. It glimmered blue-white. He pushed the blade into the handle and tried the button again. He went on trying the button and watching the flash of the blade. It was quiet in the room as the blade went in and out, in and out. Then from the street there was the sound of a horn. Herman said, “That’s the taxi.” Freddy nodded and got up from the sofa and walked out of the room. As he moved toward the girls who stood at the cocktail bar, he could feel the weight of the knife in the inner pocket of his jacket. He was looking at Pearl and saying, “Come on, let’s go,” and as he said it, the blade seemed to come out of the knife and slice into his own flesh.
~ * ~
The taxi was cruising north on Sixteenth Street. On Freddy’s wrist the white-gold watch said five-twenty. He was watching the parade of unlit windows along the dark street. Pearl was saying something but he didn’t hear her. She spoke just a bit louder and he turned and looked at her. He smiled and murmured, “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”
“Can’t you sit closer?”
He moved closer to her. A mixture of moonlight and streetlamp glow came pouring into the back seat of the taxi and illuminated her face. He saw something in her eyes that caused him to blink several times.
She noticed the way he was blinking and said, “What’s the matter?”
He didn’t answer. He tried to stop blinking and he couldn’t stop.
“Hangover?” Pearl asked.
“No,” he said. “I feel all right now, I feel fine.”
For some moments she didn’t say anything. She was rubbing her sore arm. She tried to stretch it, winced and gasped with pain, and said, “Oh Jesus, it hurts. It really hurts. Maybe it’s broken.”
“Let me feel it,” he said. He put his hand on her arm. He ran his fingers down from above her elbow to her wrist. “It isn’t broken,” he murmured. “Just a little swollen, that’s all. Sprained some ligaments.”
She smiled at him. “The hurt goes away when you touch it.”
He tried not to look at her, but something fastened his eyes to her face. He kept his hand on her arm. He heard himself saying, “I feel sorry for Herman. If he could see you now, I mean if you’d look at him like you’re looking at me —”
“Freddy,” she said. “Freddy.” Then she leaned toward him. She rested her head on his shoulder.
Then somehow everything was quiet and still and he didn’t hear the noise of the taxi’s engine, he didn’t feel the bumps as the wheels hit the ruts in the cobblestone surface of Sixteenth Street. But suddenly there was a deep rut and the taxi gave a lurch. He looked up and heard the driver cursing the city engineers. “Goddamn it,” the driver said. “They got a deal with the tire companies.”
Freddy stared past the driver’s head, his eyes aimed through the windshield to see the wide intersection where Sixteenth Street met the Parkway. The Parkway was a six-laned drive slanting to the left of the downtown area, going away from the concrete of Philadelphia skyscrapers and pointing toward the green of Fairmount Park.
“Turn left,” Freddy said.
They were approaching the intersection, and the driver gave a backward glance. “Left?” the driver asked. “That takes us outta the way. You gave me an address on Seventeenth near Lehigh. We gotta hit it from Sixteenth —”
“I know,” Freddy said quietly. “But turn left anyway.”
The driver shrugged. “You’re the captain.” He beat the yellow of a traffic light and the taxi made a left turn onto the Parkway.
Pearl said, “What’s this, Freddy? Where’re we going?”
“In the park.” He wasn’t looking at her. “We’re gonna do what you said we should do. We’re gonna take a walk in the park.”
“For real?” Her eyes were lit up. She shook her head as though she could scarcely believe what he’d just said.
“We’ll take a nice walk,” he murmured. “Just the two of us. The way you wanted it.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, Freddy—”
The driver shrugged again. The taxi went past the big monuments and fountains of Logan Circle, past the Rodin Museum and the Art Museum and onto River Drive. For a mile or so they stayed on the highway, bordering the moonlit water of the river and then, without being told, the driver made a turn off the highway, made a series of turns that took them deep into the park. They came to a section where there were no lights, no movement, no sound except the autumn wind drifting through the trees and bushes and tall grass and flowers.
“Stop here,” Freddy said.
The taxi came to a stop. They got out and he paid the driver. The driver gave him a queer look and said, “You sure picked a lonely spot.”
Freddy looked at the cabman. He didn’t say anything.
The driver said, “You’re at least three miles off the highway. It’s gonna be a problem getting a ride home.”
“Is it your problem?” Freddy asked gently.
“Well, no—”
“Then don’t worry about it,” Freddy said. He smiled amiably. The driver threw a glance at the blonde, smiled, and told himself that the man might have the right idea, after all. With an item like that, any man would want complete privacy. He thought of the bony, bucktoothed woman who waited for him at home, crinkled his face in a distasteful grimace, put the car in gear, and drove away.
“Ain’t it nice?” Pearl said. “Ain’t it wonderful?”
They were walking through a glade where the moonlight showed the autumn colors of fallen leaves. The night air was fragrant with the blended aromas of wildflowers. He had his arm around her shoulder and was leading her toward a narrow lane sloping downward through the trees.
The Best American Noir of the Century Page 21