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Memoirs of a Gigolo

Page 8

by Margaret Buffano


  “Not Disneyland!” I couldn’t keep from laughing, “I mean…” I tried to stop laughing, “I mean…the other thing.”

  “The other thing…what other thing?” Chi asked dryly toying with me.

  “The other thing…you know.”

  “No, I don’t know, Alex. You’ll have to spell it out for me. Go on…don’t be ashamed to say it.”

  “…about the murder?” I pushed the words out slowly. He was right; there was a sense of liberation that came from shamelessly saying it out loud. “About the murder…tell me about the murder.”

  “There, that’s better,” Chi smiled, “Don’t be embarrassed to ask. So, you want to know about the murder? Where should I start?

  “It should have taken me less time – I kept waiting for his slut girlfriend to leave, but she had set up camp. I didn’t want to kill her. Two victims make it twice as difficult and twice as risky; but she just wouldn’t leave. It’s her own fault she’s dead…the bitch!

  “Anyway, I stood in the doorway of the emergency staircase and watched that door night and day waiting for her or him…for somebody to come out of the room. I guess they were having some weird sex marathon. Their door never opened, except for pizza and drug deliveries (it was obvious from the look of the deliverers), and a few bottles of wine brought up by room service. That’s what gave me this great idea.

  “I went back to my motel room, dressed up in a dark suit I brought with me. Then I found a liquor store and bought, which I might say, was a decent bottle of champagne.

  “I knocked on their door, he opens it just a crack, just enough to look out. I’m standing there all dressed up, holding the bottle. I tell him, ‘Compliments of the management’. They liked that, so they let me in.

  “When I get inside, it’s so dark, I can hardly see. They had the curtains pulled tight. The only light is coming from a TV with the sound off. Once my eyes adjust, I look around. There are drugs everywhere, and get this, their both standing there naked, high as kites and smiling at me.

  “He says to me, ‘Wait one minute”, and starts going through his wallet. Son-of-a-bitch wanted to give me a tip. Do you believe the nerve of that guy? It made me real crazy.

  “I just started going at them. I bashed the hell out of both their skulls with the champagne bottle. Damn…I must have hit them a hundred times or more. Bones were cracking and there was blood flying everywhere. I hit them again and again…and you know something funny? That damn champagne bottle never broke! Both their heads looked like scrambled eggs, but that damn bottle wouldn’t break!”

  “You were careful about fingerprints?” I asked.

  “I never touched anything in the room. I even used a towel on the doorknob.”

  “And the murder weapon…the bottle of champagne?” I asked.

  An ear to ear smile appeared on Chi’s face, as he held up his champagne glass.

  “You’re drinking from it!”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Remember, there are always two jokers in every deck”

  The curtains opened wide, out of the darkness and into the spotlight walked the Great Gordo – lion tamer extraordinaire. All eyes were on him, as he marched to the center ring where the crew had erected a massive metal cage. Children were awestruck with their mouths open, kernels of popcorn and pieces of candy fell to the floor, as they watched in wonder when he entered the cage.

  He was an impressive figure of a man, tall and large as a giant with muscle bulging arms and legs. He dressed like a medieval warrior, all in leather with silver spikes and massive knee-high boots.

  As a lion tamer, he was known as one of, if not, the best. He paraded slowly about the now empty cage like an ancient Roman gladiator, his arms held high, holding his leather whip in one hand. He soaked up the glory that came with the adoration and applause of his audience.

  The Great Gordo looked over to one side of the cage; standing outside, clutching his small hands around the bars of the cage was his number one fan, fourteen year old Joseph, his son.

  The boy was not only his only child; he was his protégé, his student. One day Joseph would be a lion tamer also, and carry on the family tradition.

  The son loved and adored his father. He would watch his father’s every move during his act, soaking it all up, taking it all in, and learning a little more each day.

  Gordo turned to the crew and gave the signal to let in the first lion.

  He liked to have his largest and most fierce looking lion enter first – capture the audience’s attention right from the start. That first lion would always be Constantine; known as the most magnificent and massive lion on the North American continent.

  The audiences would go silent. He had worked with Constantine since, he was a cub. One look from him, one crack of his whip and Constantine would obey. It was clear to see who the master was and who the slave. Only, that night, in an instant, it all changed.

  Constantine took a leap across the cage and came down hard on top of Gordo. All of the lion’s claws were tearing into his flesh. His massive teeth were shredding and ripping his skin off his body. The audience roared in horror, the lights went out; gunshots rang out in the darkness. The sound of men yelling, metal doors opening and closing echoed through the auditorium. Then the orchestra began to play a loud, happy carnival tune, the spotlight shone down on the far outer circus ring. There, clowns went into their act. Except, everyone’s attention was still on the dark silhouette of the cage.

  Later at the hospital, little Joseph stood at his father’s bedside, crying.

  “Papa…Papa…speak to me!”

  His body mangled and torn, he felt the life leaving his body. He knew he had only moments left to speak to his boy.

  “Joseph, never forget there is danger! Never forget they are man-eaters! Never forget what they are!” Gordo struggled to say what he needed to say with his last dying breath, “Tonight, I let down my guard…for one brief moment I forgot…I forgot what he is…I forgot he was a lion. My son, never forget who is in the cage with you!”

  ***

  Life was good. Now set free, the chains that bound me to Virginia were gone. She had been banished to the land of Nod just east of Eden and west of the George Washington Bridge, never to be seen or heard from again.

  I made up for the loss of income by taking on a string of onetime afternoon and evening clients – some rich older honey pies. I still had a fine reputation about town and it served me well. Oh…and there were those three days every month with Margaret Ann – Easy Money, as they say.

  Of course, a one-on-one affiliation is a much greater moneymaker, but after being tied down with Virginia for so long, I was a little hesitant to jump into anything at the time – spread my wings and all.

  After the Edgar incident, purposely, my contact with Chi went down to the bear minimum our friendship could withstand, and that was just fine with me.

  Yes, life was good!

  Ah…but you know what happens when all is well? Zeus looks down from Mount Olympus and decides to play havoc with your life. If he feels compassionate, he will send down a lighting bolt and turn you into toast. This may sound a bit harsh, but it is not the worst that can happen. Most terrible state of affairs is when he slowly, little by little, and methodically brings you to ruin. I could feel the eyes of Zeus upon me, and not a thunderclap to be heard.

  ***

  I was honestly and pleasantly surprised when my answering service relayed a message from everybody’s friend, Mrs. Kenyon. It was something to the effect:

  “In desperate need of an artist of your high caliber…will be at your studio Friday at three. Please, respond if this is acceptable.”

  In desperate need was she? Of course, it would be acceptable.

  ***

  “It’s Julia,” Mrs. Kenyon sang through the intercom. I pressed the buzzer to let her in. When she entered the studio, I backed up to take in her full dramatic look. Everything she wore – her shoes, her blouse, her matador pants – was in ju
ngle animal print.

  “Alex, darling, you look marvelous!” she declared striking a pose.

  “And you Julia…you …you …you look like a chocolate cake!” I chuckled slightly, “Where did you get such a dark tan?”

  “My new sunlamp – it’s all the rage, nowadays. I sit under it for hours. I figure, if black is beautiful, I should at least try to be toffee brown.”

  The afternoon passed by way too fast. She made love to me with an intensity I never seen in her before nor ever thought she possessed.

  We lay together on the bed, naked. We basked silently in the tired afterglow of our lovemaking, watching the sunset outside through my large picture window.

  “You don’t show any bikini lines,” I asserted, looking over her dark tanned body.

  “That’s because I’m naked as the day I was born when I sit under my sunlamp. I could sit under it for hours. I love it!”

  “Aren’t you afraid of skin cancer?” I asked.

  “Sweetheart, a woman has to make an important decision early on. What’s it going to be…a long, lonely life looking homely…or a short happy one looking marvelous? You have to admit, if I died tomorrow, I’d make one sexy corpse.” She struck another one of her poses.

  “The sexiest corpse ever,” I smiled. “I’d jump your bones right there in the coffin, in front of the entire funeral!”

  “You say the sweetest things,” she said, running her fingers through my hair.

  “Julia…?” I said softly, “Don’t get me wrong…I’m glad you came…but I thought you were seeing Chi, regularly?”

  “Oh…Chi,” laughed Julia, “I guess he’s all right? He’s sure the prettiest thing on three legs, but he makes love like a machine. And he’s like talking to a brick wall. Not like you. You make love like it means something and you know how to treat a lady.”

  I lifted my head and rested it on my hand; she continued to strum her fingers through my hair.

  “Julia…there’s something I want to ask you. I mean…I don’t want to embarrass you, but I want to know.”

  “What’s that, sweetheart, ask away. You won’t embarrass me.”

  I had captured her attention.

  “Well…we’ve known each other for a few years now, and we’ve made love many times – and it’s always been good – but this afternoon…I don’t know…you were like a wild animal. I’ve never known you to be like that.”

  “That’s because…” she hesitated, “That’s because I’ve never been with a killer before.”

  I’m sure there was a look of shock on my face, but I tried to keep my reaction down to a minimum.

  “Julia, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “Alex, sweetheart….Virginia Kingston and I have been the closest of friends since high school, we tell each other everything. I know all about it.”

  Her fingers were reaching deep into my hair.

  “And I need your help?”

  “You need my help?” I asked, afraid of what she was going to say next.

  “I just can’t live another day with that man! You’ve got to do something with Albert for me!”

  “Like what…kill him?” I growled.

  “Ah…ha,” she nodded; tears were welling up in her eyes.

  “Julia…what do you think this is…Murder Incorporated?”

  “Please, Alex? Virginia told me she paid you fifty thousand; I’ll pay double that!”

  I thought about it for a moment. It was a burdensomely large amount of money.

  “Okay…but it’s got to stop here! You mustn’t tell another soul about this!’

  “I swear…not another soul,” she cooed.

  She reached her fingertips deeper into my hair. She took hold of most my waves, tightly, and unhurriedly and without difficulty drew my face close to hers, until our lips were just inches from touching.

  “Come here…killer!”

  ***

  Considering, Chi and Mrs. Kenyon had been intimate, and there was no telling if or when they might be again, I decided it best to disclose the precise amount offered me by Mrs. Kenyon for killing her husband.

  I arranged for him and me to meet at his apartment to discuss our new endeavor. Over drinks, I told him all the incidentals about Mrs. Kenyon’s offer to me. For the mere taking of a human life, something he had done so many times before (sometimes just for the sheer fun of it), he was to receive seventy-five thousand dollars. This was under our three to one split agreement. I thought it would please him as punch. However, the opposite was true; he showed displeasure and was downright angry.

  “How could you do this to me, Alex? How could you stab me in the back? Mrs. Kenyon is my client!”

  “She’s as much my client as she is yours!” I argued.

  “Yeah…but not lately…I’ve been sleeping with that woman for months; why didn’t she come to me direct?” pouted Chi.

  “Because, she believes I was the one who killed Edgar Kingston, not you!”

  “But it’s not fair, Alex. It was me; and you know it! You need to tell Mrs. Kenyon all you did was to set up the deal!”

  “And that’s all I’m doing this time! Chi, don’t buck the system; we make a good team! We’re like brothers; just let it be.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Chi was still sulking.

  I was slowly starting to realized how to control Chi. Sure; he was unpredictable, a loose cannon ready to go off at any moment.

  In the depths of his soul he was alone; he listened to me, and yes, even obeyed anyone who could find their way into that dark lonely place that was his heart.

  It was no different from the women I had been making my living off for so long – you need to listen, find out what is missing, and fill the void.

  Chi had grown up on the streets without a friend, without a family. That’s why I started using certain selective words like: brothers, friends, cousins, and buddies. It took some time, but he ate it all up – because he was starving for it.

  I poured us another couple of drinks. You need to be careful when it comes to alcohol with someone like Chi. Too much and you’ve lit the fuse to a stack of dynamite; but just the right dosage and you’ve tapped into their emotions.

  “Chi, you need to understand…you…me…we’re a brotherhood of two and two only; there is no one else like us. I would never cheat or lie to you. You are the brother I never had. We can be such an unbeatable team.”

  “Like the dynamic duo?” Chi’s words were slurred, the alcohol starting to reach his brain.

  “Yeah…like the dynamic duo,” I laughed, placing my hand on his shoulder.

  “It’s just Mrs. Kenyon was one of my women. She should have come to me first. She should have come directly to me. It’s just not fair, Alex.”

  “Not fair?” I exclaimed, “I’ll tell you what’s not fair, you getting seventy-five thousand while I only get twenty-five” I complained.

  “But I take all the risks and I…”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I interrupted, “You take all the risks, you do all the dirty work…yeah…I know the whole speech. But did you know if they ever catch us, they would probably give me the same sentence as you, because I was an accomplice!”

  “Really…?” Chi asked, in his drunken haze.

  “I mean it,” I said, pouring him another drink, “If they hang you, my brother, they have to hang me.”

  “My brother…I like the sound of that,” Chi said in his drunkenness, “All right, we’ll split fifty/fifty, but on one condition.”

  “What’s that?” I asked hesitantly.

  “You have to come with me on this job.”

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t. Chi, I’m not made like you. I couldn’t…”

  “Don’t worry; you wouldn’t have to do any of the killing, yourself. I’ll still do the dirty work. But you have to go with me, and help me. If you want half of the money, you have to earn it.”

  How bad could it be? I thought. All I’d have to do is watch Chi kill someone. I would
n’t have any direct involvement. I’d be blameless! It would be a walk in the park…easy money…sure, I’ll do it.

  Chi smiled when I said we would do it together; we’d kill Albert Kenyon, together. Only I insisted once more Chi would deal the fatal blow, not I. He was content with that.

  Chi’s smiling face then turned to a look of sorrow. Tears began to flow down his face. He fell into my arms.

  “Call me brother, again,” he asked. Obviously, I had hit a nerve.

  “It’s okay…my brother,” I said, feeling a bit unclean.

  I was the mad scientist; I played god and had made a new creature. Yet, like so many others before who tried taking up the role of god, though it is exhilarating, it leaves you scared and wanting. You come face-to-face with your own shortcomings, and nothing can change that. You are either fooling or lying to yourself, if you think otherwise.

  ***

  Mrs. Kenyon sent Albert’s weekly schedule to us, I mean, to me, alone. There were operations (at the office and at different hospitals about town), consultations, luncheons, meetings, lectures… The only time a murder seemed feasible was on a Tuesday or Thursday night when Albert spent time alone at his office, reviewing data and x-rays of his patients.

  So, Chi decided (I had no say in it) we would visit the good Doctor on either one of those nights and do him in. The method of Albert’s death, I left to Chi. I held more than an inclining it would be all very impromptu. Chi warned more than a dozen times to watch what my hands touched, to not leave any fingerprints.

  It was on a Thursday night – I’ve never felt comfortable with Thursdays, their so unlike all the other days of the week – we decided to visit Albert at his place of employment.

  We entered the front door and stood in the empty waiting room, where we were taken aback by sounds echoing throughout the office. It was the sound of passion; a man and a woman lost in the moans and groans of sexual ecstasy, and it was coming from behind one of the office doors. It seemed Mrs. Kenyon was wrong. Her husband, Albert, did not spend his Tuesdays and Thursdays alone, obviously.

 

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