The Erection Set

by Mickey Spillane

  . And me. I was in it now too. I was his protector. I couldn’t give the stuff away ... I couldn’t take a chance dumping it somewhere without leaving tracks. I just didn’t think that way at all. All they had to find was the money or the bag and I’d be holding my own balls too. There was no way out, none at all.

  But there was. I had almost done it the first time. I picked up every bill lying around, repacked it, closed the lid of the suitcase and buckled the straps.

  The whole thing would just about fit into the hall incinerator.

  I was sweaty and grimy and looked forward to a cool shower when I stuck the key in the lock and walked into Lee’s apartment. He was standing in the middle of the living room pulling on his pants with nervous hands, his face white and puckered looking. He jammed his feet into a pair of loafers and never saw me until he picked up my suitcase and started toward the door and when he caught my eyes across the distance he nearly lost his grip on it.

  “Going somewhere?” I shouldn’t have let my teeth show through the grin like that. Hell, I could have told him where he was going. His face was like the proverbial open book. He was scared halfway out of his mind, but he was still the same old Lee and going through no matter what happened.

  “Don’t stop me, Dog.”

  I shrugged, stepped aside and pulled a cigarette from my pack. “That leather’s tough. It won’t burn so easily. And besides, supposing some of that money starts drifting up the flue and lands in the street?”

  The simple idea of it shook him and this time his fingers did let go. The bag slammed to the floor and rocked over slowly to lie on its side.

  “You always could think things through, you bastard.” His face was mad now, more at himself for being stupid, then his anger turned back to me again. “Okay, where can I dump it?” He was ready to come through me again.

  “Why not try the bank? There’s one across the street.” I looked at my watch. “We still have an hour until closing.”

  “Don’t try bluffing me out, Dog.”

  “You can always call, kid.”

  “Okay, I’m calling,” he said.

  I went over, picked up the bag and he followed me out, pulling on a tattered sport jacket over his T-shirt.

  The teller called the manager and the manager called the president. Lee waited in the reception room while the president took me into his office. Two bank guards stood by watching Lee, and his lips were dry and cracked. When I came out, the bank was closed for the day, but we got a grand escort to the front door and a fine shaking of hands.

  Outside, I handed Lee an envelope with the two pass-books, so he could look at them and he still didn’t have enough spit in him to wet his lips. All he could say was, “What took so long?”

  “They had to count it,” I said.

  “You’re crazy, Dog, absolutely crazy. You’re going to get nailed sure as hell. Right now they’re on somebody’s hot line and we’ll have visitors before we ever get home.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  He shook his head, astounded at my lack of interest. “Buddy, unless that was tax-paid, clean money with verified sources of ownership, your ass is in one hell of a sling.”

  I grinned at him. “How about that? Now can I get my shower?” I asked.

  I said, “Rose?”

  “Yeah, Dog.” She sounded sleepy, but she knew my voice.

  “I need you.”

  “Sure. I knew you would. I’ve been waiting.”

  “Sorry to be so long.”

  “It’s only a day. Forget it.” I heard her yawn elaborately and let.her get it out.

  “You’re going to get a kick in the twat, honey. Money you can grab, but take that from the slobbies, okay?” I said.

  “Come on, Dog...”

  “If you really want me to wake you up...”

  “Try getting past the doorman.” She hung up with total, flat finality and I went up and got past her doorman. The fifth pick opened the lock and I kicked her out of bed and watched her lie there, eyes wide open for a good five seconds, wondering if she was going to be raped or robbed and when she finally recognized me all she could say was, “What happened to the doorman?”

  “I gave him a hundred bucks,” I told her.

  “He can’t be bought.”

  “If he didn’t take it I’d of killed him,” I said.

  “He’s a retired cop. An honest one.”

  “So I lied. I said I was your lover ...”

  “He believed it?”

  “Shit. He said you deserved the likes of me,” I grinned at her. “He thought I was a cop too.”

  “He would have asked for your badge.”

  “Come on, I showed it to him.”

  “Dog ... all that for a piece of ass? You could have had it for free if you wanted.”

  “Then...”

  “Shut up and get dressed.”

  Rose said, “Tell me ...”

  “No,” I told her, “Lee doesn’t know. Only you know. Amateurs are out and that’s for sure.”

  “I want my due. Something’s on your mind and if I have to go along I want my due.”

  “That’s old-timey talk, sweetie.”

  “So give me my due.”

  “Like what?”

  “A piece of ass,” she laughed.

  “Supposing it hurts?”

  “Use some baby oil. It won’t hurt. I can control my sphincter muscle.”

  “Oh, you dirty girl.”

  “But don’t you love me?”

  “Naturally.”

  “So? Don’t tell me it’s your first time?”

  “It isn’t.”

  “I didn’t think so. You probably come equipped with your own lubricant,” she said.

  “Not now.”

  “At least I did,” she told me.

  “So break out the baby oil,” I said. I smirked at her and stepped out of my pants. “Stop watching,” I told her.

  “I just wanted to see if you were equipped,” she said.

  “Hell, doll, I only want to satisfy you without hurting your little teeny tiny body.”

  Her laugh was loud and clear. She flipped the covers off, switched onto her spread legs in such a classic position with her head buried in her folded arm that she damn near forgot what I came for. “Go, man,” she said.

  I lit a cigarette and said, “Sorry about that, kid.”

  Rose looked around, all expecting to see the weirdo, the incapable, the all talk, but I was big and able and ready to go, only I wanted a smoke first.

  “Dog, you’re a dirty slob.”

  “I could have told you that.”

  “Why?”

  So at last the lovely whore turned over and let me look at all that naked garishness, big tits tightened into hips and legs that were all so damned luscious, especially with that gorgeous snatch peering it’s lonely eye into mine....

  I got up and got a hairbrush. There’s one hell of a way to talk to a broad when you want to think. So I began brushing her hair.

  She talked.

  Nice and easy, but there were a few things I had to learn. The dolls overseas were all different. Their wants were specific, every undulation pointing to the specific, but at last here was a pure American whore, specific only in her attitude toward money, and I said, “Oh, you capitalist, you,” just as the hairbrush gave her an orgasm.

  “Son of a bitch,” Rose breathed.

  “Compliment or criticism?”

  “Nobody should know that much about a woman. What will happen to the girl you marry?”

  “At least she’ll lead a sexy life,” I said.

  “Somebody better believe that.”

  “Oh, they will.”

  “I’ll give you references.”

  “For a hairbrush?”

  “Damn, Dog, if you can do it with a hairbrush, what can you do with the rest of the goodies?”

  “Just try me,” I said. “Roll over.”

  “You bastard. You know you only wanted to talk
to me.”

  “I was softening you up.”

  “Like I needed it. You’re the one who needs softening.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “Can you give me a little more than the hairbrush?” Rose asked.

  I said uh-huh and gave her a little more and when she got her breath back she looked up at me with a terrible smile and said, “Maybe Lee will kill you.”

  “He already tried.”

  “Really?”

  “Certainly. That’s why we’re friends.”

  “You guys are all nuts.”

  “That’s why we’re winners,” I said. “You want to be with us?”

  Rose took a long look at me. Very deliberately she licked her forefinger and ran it up through her slit. “Pornographic?”

  “Damn,” I said, “you sure know how to build a man.”

  And for the first time I knew she was like me. “Who the hell you kidding?” Rose said.

  “Not me, that’s for sure.”

  “Dog ... you ever been shot?”

  “Young lady, I went into World War Two at the early age of twenty. I was a flier and my personal history before then belongs only in the unwritten biography, but four years of garbage got me nothing, then four years of civilian life got me shot four times. There’s only one way you can see the scars.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Now let’s get laid.”

  “Only if you’ll tell me what I have to know.”

  “You’re asking for a lot.”

  “Not really that much.”

  “Truly, Dog?”

  “You know I’m a mean son of a bitch.”

  “I know.”

  “Still want me?”

  “After that last episode ... damn!”

  “Okay, roll over.”

  “But where away, buddy?”

  “Were you in the Army?”

  “No.”

  “So why the army talk ... or was it navy?”

  “Aw, shaddup and just screw.”

  “Not without your consent,” I said.

  “So pick a hole,” Rose told me.

  “Now who’s the nut?”

  “You, if you don’t start screwing somewhere.”

  “I guess you did know I had something to do when I came here.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Why the hell do you keep distracting me?”

  “Shut up and keep screwing. Think about it later.”

  “You dames are all alike,” I said.

  “We are not,” Rose told me. She did what I wanted her to do, rolled over, swore at me and clamped her legs together. “You got a death wish, man?” she asked.

  “Naturally,” I said.

  I soaked up the eggs with the last piece of toast and looked at her across my coffee cup. She had thrown on a necklace and a wide leather belt and the effect was a little startling. “Do you always dress like that?”

  Rose snapped the belt against her bare flesh and smiled. “It’s only a little shorter than my minis. Anyway, do you always have to gorge yourself after you’ve had a woman?”

  I nodded. “Always. It has an immediate regenerative effect.”

  “Well save it. I’m beat.” Her eyes danced a little solo. “You’re pretty good. I liked it. It was one of those rare occasions when I’d be willing to pay the tab myself.”

  “You already did, Rose. That was a good conversation. Time and distance change things. You caught me up in a hurry.”

  Rose nodded sagely, her eyes still on mine. She sipped at her coffee, thought a moment, then said, “You want more than that, though, don’t you?”

  “Smart.”

  “I’ve been around some. Maybe not like you, but enough to read the signs.”

  “What do you read?” I asked her.

  She finished the coffee, set the cup in the saucer, then began turning the cup in lazy circles with her forefinger. “You meet me once, you set me up so I can hardly refuse you, now I’m waiting to swing at your pitch. There are a lot of pretty women in New York, Dog. Why me?”

  “Because I lucked in the first time at bat. I know Lee ... he won’t mess with a phony. You can be trusted.”

  Rose made a moue and shrugged. “One of my few virtues. I’m glad you noticed. It makes me feel that I haven’t wasted everything. Now what’s on your mind?”

  “I’m going to use you.”

  “Yes, I know. Am I to be a goodie or a baddie?”

  “Either way, you won’t be hurt,” I said. “You’ll come out of it a little richer than when you went in.”

  Her teeth bit into her lower lip very gently, then she raised her eyes and looked at me. “And you, Dog, how will you come out of it?”

  “Let’s say satisfied. There are things that need doing that have been left undone too long.”

  “But somebody will get hurt.”

  “That they will, pretty girl,” I told her. “You can damn well bet on it. They deserve it and they’ll get it.”

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Rose asked me.

  I sat back, let my thoughts drift back across time a few seconds, then said, “Maybe I don’t look the type, kid, but I did my homework pretty well.”

  “Revenge, Dog?”

  “Nope. Simply a necessity.”

  “I don’t think I believe you.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to believe it myself.” I paused and watched her a moment. “No, it isn’t revenge. It just has to be done.”

  The cup spun under her fingers for a full minute before she looked up again and nodded. “All right, Dog. There’s something funny about you and I have to find out just what it is. I sleep with men for money and nearly everyone wants to know why I got into the business. Oh, I tell them something and rarely ever the same story twice. But I’m always curious why they bother being serviced by a call girl. They fall in love, they marry, then start knocking around with whores.”

  “It’s the animal instinct,” I said.

  “They’re crazy,” Rose told me. “If they like specialties, teach their women to perform. Hell, you’d be surprised how happy a woman is to go along with their games. They even have some of their own and when two people perfect the art of turning a bed into a happy workbench you couldn’t pry either one of them away from the other with a crowbar. Damn, I know an old fat couple who haven’t missed a two-a-day turn in forty years and they have eleven kids.”

  “Who?”

  “My folks. They used to embarrass hell out of me. If they knew what I was they’d feel genuine pity for me. To them marriage is one big happy ball. Me, I’m missing something.”

  “How about Lee?”

  “We’re good friends, Dog. Screwing buddies, sort of. He’s a big, friendly puppy type who hasn’t grown up yet. I don’t think he ever will.”

  “And if he does?”

  “What would he want me for? He could grab any woman then.”

  “I doubt it. Not after he’s been trained by you.”

  “Thank you, my friend. It’s nice to contemplate, but a little on the improbable side.”

  “You hedged,” I said.

  “What?”

  “You didn’t say impossible.”

  “Female vanity, big Dog. I’m curious about him, too, but you the most. I wonder what you really want.”

  “I’ve pondered that too.”

  “And when you find out?”

  “I’ll take it.”

  “No matter who’s got it?”

  “Roger, pussycat. No matter who’s got it.”

  “Okay, Dog. At least you got me. Now I have to stay in the game just to see how it turns out. Are you going to kiss me good night now?”

  “In my own inimitable fashion,” I told her.

  IV

  New York was getting its midweek bath under a slashing northeast rain that churned up ripples in the street and blew waves of spray across the sidewalks. Empty cabs cruised by, but the shoppers had stayed home and it was too early for the office crowd to b
e leaving the grotesque sepulchers that contained them.

  Lee’s voice was a muttered undertone of total futility. Weller-Fabray, Tailors, his pants legs and shoes soggy under the hem of his black raincoat. I paid off the driver and climbed out of the taxi, letting the rain tear at me, then walked past him and into the store.

  Lee’s voice was a muttered undertone of total futility. “A whole year before this class joint would even sell me a suit, now you blow it in one bounce.”

  “Down, boy,” I said.

  The British gentleman with the sweeping moustache and formal tails nodded politely to Lee, studied me a second and nodded with an almost imperceptible bow. Somehow he seemed to wear the cloak of royalty around his shoulders, his eyes observant and capable of instant analysis. For that scant moment we just looked at each other, then, in perfect French, he said, “Yes, m’sieu, how may we help you?”

  There was no trace of accent in my French, either. I said, “I would like a complete wardrobe for every occasion. I haven’t the time to stand for fittings and need two suits immediately. There are certain alterations of design that are somewhat unusual, but necessary, as you will see. My measurements are on file at Betterton and Strauss in London, and Mr. Betterton will be happy to give them to you at any hour, so please call him immediately and bill me for any charges. Choice of material and styling will be at your discretion. Please include shirts, ties, underwear, socks and whatever you consider pertinent.” I wrote out a check, handed it to him along with Lee’s address and added, “Only the finest, if you don’t mind, and this should cover the preliminary expenses. When may I expect delivery of the two suits?”

  He never even glanced at the check. Completely unperturbed he told me, “Tomorrow, sir. About noon?”

  “Fine,” I said. There was that slight bow again and I walked Lee back outside into the rain.

  We were halfway down the block before my friend could find the right words. I knew his smattering of French had let him in on the conversation, and the look he gave me was almost one of awe. “How the hell do you do it, Dog? Nobody gets a suit out of Weller-Fabray under four weeks. It takes a dozen fittings and ten character references to even get a shirt there!”