Once she was gone, he felt as lonely as it was possible to feel. The fun was elsewhere. He couldn’t believe she wasn’t coming back to him. Later. After she was done singing.
He waited awhile, then went to take a shower. He was deep in the lather and steam, she’d been gone for half an hour, and somebody was banging on the door. He turned off the shower, wrapped himself in a thick terry-cloth robe, and hobbled to the door trying to shake soap and water out of his ear. He almost expected her to be standing in the doorway, like Claudette Colbert coming back to the guy she really loves in the movie, ready to tell him she’d fallen under his spell and she was a new woman and wanted him and what were they going to do about it?
As so often happens in life, however, he was mistaken.
Bennie the Brute was standing there staring at him and what he saw in the eyes floating behind the thick lenses was definitely not love.
It wasn’t even like.
Chapter Eleven
“GEE WHIZ,” BENNIE SAID, SLOWLY removing his soft homburg, “I’m so disappointed in you, Lew.” He shook his massive head sadly and came inside. “This is just terrible, Lew.” He looked as if he hoped Cassidy had a miracle explanation.
“You’ve been following her?”
He nodded. Human nature was such a sorry affair. “We knew she was seein’ somebody, Lew. We gave her a little rope.” He shrugged like a Galápagos turtle shifting its shell.
“Probably wouldn’t do any good to tell you this was the first time?”
“Probably not. What difference does it make? Once you break an egg it can’t get any more broken …”
“Voltaire?”
“Not to my knowledge, Lew.”
“This,” Cassidy said, toweling his hair, trying to be casual, “is the time when men of goodwill sit down, have a brandy and cigar, and reason together. There’s a way out of this situation.”
“I’m not quite so sanguine about the prospects,” Bennie said. He put his hat on the table in the front hall and followed Cassidy into the living room. Her smell was everywhere. “On the other hand, we should exhaust all the peaceful options before resorting to … well, you know, the less peaceful options.” He sat down in a chair by the windows, crossed his legs, smoothed his mackintosh across his knee. The polka-dot bow tie peeked out at the collar.
Cassidy poured two snifters of calvados and took two Havanas from the box he kept in the refrigerator. He clipped the ends, held the match for Bennie, and they undertook to be reasonable adults solving a moderately sticky problem. The trick was to keep Bennie calm while Cassidy tried to think of a way to bribe him without his taking offense. He wondered if Terry had it figured: Had Bennie tipped off Harry Madrid? Did Bennie figure it was his turn to be Max now?
“Miss Squires was right, then,” Cassidy said. “She really is being followed. I call that damn bad form. She’s a grown woman, she should come and go as she pleases. Without being watched.”
“That would seem to be true,” Bennie observed judiciously. “Normally I’d be the first to agree with you. But”—he shook a finger at Cassidy—“Miss Squires is not a normal case. She has certain problems. For instance, she is a loose woman—no, don’t deny it, Lew. She is. We must save her from herself. Let’s face it, Lew, her base nature has gained the upper hand. The rest of us have an obligation to protect her from that flaw.” He puffed and regarded the cigar like an old friend. “These are just like Mr. Bauman’s.”
“They are Mr. Bauman’s. Terry gave them to me. Now, listen, why the hell weren’t you saving her from herself when you saw her come in here? You could have saved me this problem with you—you would have if you were really my friend—and you could have saved her virtue.”
“Oh, come now, Miss Squires’s virtue is long past saving, I’m afraid. My job is to protect Mr. Bauman from the sordid truth and the unhappy effects of her weakness. It’s a big job, too. Hell, Lew, sometimes getting all my jobs straight confuses me.” He unbelted his mac and opened it. He was wearing his customary tuxedo. He’d be at the club later when he and Cassidy had had their little talk. Cassidy felt like he’d been summoned to the principal’s office. If the principal was King Kong.
“We’re all confused,” Cassidy said. “Everybody. Let’s just simplify our lives and forget tonight ever happened. What the hell difference does it make?”
“Ah, that’s the question, isn’t it, Lew? Well, I’m afraid it does make a difference. I gotta live with myself, for one thing. I have my morals. Try to understand that, Lew.”
“The concept of morality is not entirely foreign to me.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that. You couldn’t prove it by your behavior tonight. Now, I could keep all this from Mr. Bauman, I could wink at you and figure you just serviced a bitch in heat. I could hope that you’d never repeat this deplorable lapse of manners—”
Cassidy was beginning to worry. He was sweating under the robe and his heart had speeded up. “Bennie, you must really understand that I didn’t make a play for her.” Bennie was watching him through the lazy swirls of smoke, his eyes shining, his mouth working the cigar. His hands were huge, fingers thick, fists like wrecking balls. “She found me, she came down here … listen, you know I’ll never let it happen again.” Now he was feeling clammy under the robe. Bennie was getting restless in his chair. Bad sign.
“Lew, don’t kid me. How will I know you’d be able to resist her attractions? Hell, she’s tried it on me, leaving the bedroom door open while she was naked, doing her exercises—I mean, Lew, I saw it all … and she knew it, she loved having me watch her. Jeez, Lew, I can’t trust myself, how the dickens can I trust you?” It would have been funny if Bennie hadn’t been so serious. He was working it all out and his face showed it, a map of consternation.
“You can trust my words, Bennie. You can trust my fear if not my word. You think I want you to work me over?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “I’m not so hot on this trust malarkey. Take all the trust in the world and a nickel, it gets you a cup of coffee. You might forget how I could hurt you, or you might think I’d get soft and not hurt you, and first thing you knew you’d be sticking your thing in Miss Squires again—” He shuddered at the thought. “And then where would we be?”
“But what’s it to you? Who really cares?” He was cold but sweating. Bennie was like a natural disaster waiting to happen, a great big dark cloud getting ready to rain all over Lew Cassidy.
“Well, I care, Lew. What I can’t have is that Mr. Bauman has any more pain. He’s lost too much and I don’t want him to lose Miss Squires. I may not think she’s so much but that doesn’t matter. He’s crazy about her, she’s young and beautiful and he cares. I like you, Lew, you know that. Always liked you. But I’m loyal to Mr. Bauman. I owe him. It comes down to that.” He stood up leaving his snifter behind, still smoking the cigar. Cassidy was too scared of what he might do to move. Bennie stood in the doorway to the bedroom looking at the messy bed, then turned back to him and whistled softly. “I don’t know,” he murmured, “maybe it was worth it. She really something, Lew?” Cassidy nodded. “Oh, Lew, I’m afraid I’ll have to do something to make you remember to behave yourself … y’know, this is nothing personal, I wouldn’t care what you and Miss Squires do, you make a nice couple for all I give a shit, but it’s Mr. Bauman, I worry about him …”
Cassidy stood up. “You’re not worried about him, you’re scared of him. I don’t blame you—Bennie, get the hell outa here. You’re not going to hurt me, we’re friends, for God’s sake. Now, take me at my word, I’ll stay away from Cindy, you get your big ass up to the club—forget all this, it never happened …”
“Is that the way it is, Lew?” His voice was so soft Cassidy could barely hear him. He picked up his hat, put his cigar down in the ashtray. He placed the hat straight on his head and came to stand beside Cassidy.
“Of course it is,” Cassidy said. He opened the door. “I’ll be a good boy.”
He was filling the do
orway when he turned back with a perplexed expression on his large pale face. The eyes swam behind the glasses, then stopped abruptly.
“No,” he said, “no. I’m sorry about this, pal.”
A fist the size of Bill Dickey’s catcher’s mitt and heavy as a bowling ball slammed into his gut. His eyes went black as the inside of the bat cage and he doubled over unable to breathe. He was going to die like a fish on the dock.
Bennie’s knee came up and he felt the two-by-four hardness of his thigh breaking his nose. His teeth rammed into the pulp of his cheek and his mouth suddenly filled with blood. Bennie let him fall. He lay on the floor gagging on the blood. He wished the bastard would just shoot him and be done with it.
He blinked, looking up at Bennie. It was like lying at the bottom of a dark mountain. “Lew, I feel like hell doing this but …” Pain was blurring his vision. Bennie held out a hand to help him up. He took it. Bennie pulled him halfway up, then sank his boot into his ribs. Something cracked, snapped. There wasn’t going to be much left that wasn’t broken, the rate he was going. “But you’ve got to learn to keep your hands off Mr. Bauman’s things.” He sank back onto the floor, gagging, trying not to choke, trying not to vomit from shock and pain.
Bennie hadn’t even broken a sweat. His bow tie wasn’t even askew. His hat was still straight. Everything about the guy was suddenly a personal insult. And he kept telling Cassidy how much he hated having to kick the shit out of him. There was a shifting blur as he drew his foot back again. Cassidy tried to turn and roll away, anything to keep him from driving ribs into a lung or into his heart. The boot got him in the kidneys. He kept coughing and spitting blood and felt a loose tooth wobbling against his tongue. “Well, Lew, I think that’s enough, don’t you? Now, you promise you won’t forget why we had to go through this.”
“I promise,” Cassidy croaked.
Bennie left him huddled on the floor and went to the kitchen. “You want a nice drink of water, Lew? I sure can use one.” Cassidy heard him puttering around with glasses and the jar of cold water from the fridge.
Cassidy began crawling across the floor toward the couch. He wiped the tears out of his eyes and tried to ignore the blades of pain in his chest. “That wasn’t a fair fight, Bennie,” he said.
Bennie laughed softly in the kitchen. He was cracking ice cubes out of the trays. “It wasn’t supposed to be fair. It wasn’t even a fight. It was punishment.”
Cassidy hoisted himself up on the arm of the couch and got his blackthorn stick. He stood up, steadying himself, waited for his head to clear, and then hobbled to the kitchen. “Yeah, I could use a glass of water.”
“Sure thing.” Bennie handed him a glass and clicked his against Cassidy’s. “Better times ahead,” he said. “Understood?”
“Right. I’ve learned a valuable lesson.”
Bennie smiled. “That’s good to hear, Lew.”
Bennie turned and was going through the archway back toward the living room.
Cassidy lifted the blackthorn stick high, ignoring the arrows of sheer agony in his chest and the explosions of light behind his eyes and the weird sounds in his nose and throat when he breathed, and hit Bennie in the head with the leaded end, with all the strength he had.
He staggered against the wall. “Gee whiz, Lew—”
Cassidy swung it again and got him behind his left ear. He went forward on his knees.
“It’s not a fight, Bennie. It’s getting even.”
Bennie was holding his head with one hand. Then he was trying to get up and Cassidy was wondering what the hell he’d done. What am I going to do when he gets up and is mad at me?
Bennie turned toward him and raised up on his knees like Porgy about to tell Bess she’s his woman now and Cassidy did a real Babe Ruth, caught him on the temple over his left eye and his skull collapsed like a ripe honeydew and he went over sideways and let out a sigh like a blown-out Firestone and didn’t move a muscle except to jerk his limbs a few times.
Bennie didn’t get up anymore.
Terry Leary stood looking down at Bennie. It was eleven o’clock.
“Boy, Lew, I’ve seen Bennie look a lot better.”
“I’ve seen me look a lot better.” The blood kept oozing from his nose into his throat. He couldn’t move without feeling like he was having a heart attack.
He regarded Cassidy thoughtfully. “But you at least got laid, old-timer. I hope it was worth it.”
“I haven’t decided yet. But I think it was.”
“You’ve got guts,” Terry remarked. He dripped some more cold water from the towel he held over Bennie’s head. “More guts than brains, messing around with Max’s lady. Not smart, Lew. You could catch your death of dumbness like that.”
“Look at the other guy.”
“That is quite true. But a word to the wise—she’s all trouble and a mile wide—”
“Shut up about her, okay?”
He looked up. “You like her?”
“Let’s just drop it, Terry. I got problems breathing here.”
“Bennie’s not exactly at the top of his game.”
“Is he dead?”
“Naw. He sort of quivers every so often. Look. See? Naw, he’s not actually dead.” Terry smiled. “That’s the good news and the bad news.” He pointed at the stick. “You better clean off the knob. It’s all sticky.”
Cassidy went to the kitchen and ran water over the knob and wiped it with a dishtowel. He went back to the living room.
“What now?”
“Well, when Bennie wakes up I’d say he’s gonna make you eat your stick and then he’s gonna yank it right out your asshole.”
“If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”
But when Bennie came to, he lay there blinking at them. It took him a long time to focus. Finally he said, “Hi, Terry.” He paused and licked some foam from his lips. “Hey, Lew …” There was a mild sense of wonder and confusion in his voice. “What the heck’s going on, anyway? Boy, I don’t feel so good, you guys.” He threw up on the rug. “Gee, Lew, I’m sorry about that …” Terry wiped Bennie’s mouth with the wet towel. “Where am I?”
“You’re downtown. Lew’s place.”
“Lew’s place?” His face was gray. He pulled himself up and leaned against the back of the couch. Cassidy made himself look at the mess above the left eye. It looked like maybe bone was showing through. He looked away fast. “Why Lew’s place?” Bennie asked.
“Listen, Bennie, pay attention to me now. Watch my lips. I don’t know why you were downtown but the point is you were. You got rolled—Jesus, don’t touch your head!” The thick fingers were fumbling toward the raw, wet hole.
“Me? Rolled?” He dropped his hand. He couldn’t believe it. “Me? Are you sure we’re talking about me?” The words came slowly, his lips forming each one with a determined effort. He began to reach for the wound again.
“Hey, come on, Bennie! Don’t do that.” Terry batted the hand away. “You got a nasty little … ah … cut up there. You got beaten up. Lots of guys. Real big guys, Ben.”
“It figures,” Bennie grunted softly. “Lotsa big guys. I never saw ’em, Terry. They musta got me from behind—”
“Absolutely. The only way. You were lucky Lew was just getting home. He went after them with his cane. They beat hell outa him, too, broke his nose, banged him up pretty good …”
Bennie tried to focus on Cassidy, lifted his hands weakly. “Whatta guy, Lew … gee … boy, my head’s killing me. You got any aspirin, Lew …”
“Not now, Bennie,” Terry said. “Lew got you into his place here and called me. You were laid out for damn near an hour, I guess.” Terry was kneeling down looking at Bennie close up. “Don’t go back to sleep, Bennie. Gotta stay awake—”
“I’m real sleepy, Terry.”
“I know. But we’re taking you over to St. Vincent’s, have ’em take at look at that head. We’re gonna have to get you on your feet now, Bennie. Slow and easy does it
…”
Bennie was like a great big baby, not in full control of his arms and legs, and he leaned on his friends. When he was upright he hugged Cassidy, his huge arms weak. “Thank God for you, Lew. Thank God …” He started to cry.
“It’s okay, Bennie,” Cassidy said. He hugged the big son of a bitch. He’d always liked Bennie and now it all seemed sad, like scraping the bottom and not knowing if you could make it back to the top.
Before they went out to the car Terry whispered, “Lew, leave that goddamn stick here. Take one of your wooden canes. No point some smart-ass in the emergency room making a match on Bennie’s head and being a genius at your expense. Just play along, amigo. Trust Terry.”
The emergency room doctors took Bennie away, muttering to themselves about the dumb bastards not calling an ambulance. Bennie waved to them from the stretcher and then his arm just hung down with the knuckles on the floor. Another doctor came and looked curiously at Cassidy. “You look like a plate of Spam yourself, fella,” he said. He was a big guy with a paunch that stretched the buttons on his white coat. He was wearing a full complement of bloodstains. He sat down on the edge of his office desk and shook a Lucky out of a flattened pack, lit it with a Stork Club match. He coughed and stared accusingly at the cigarette. There was only one dim light in the room and the tip of the cigarette glowed like a stoplight. “You want me to fix your nose?”
“No, no, I’ve had it busted a dozen times. I’ll go to my own doctor tomorrow.”
“Shoot yourself, it’s your nose. But it’s gonna be a long night without breathing. You got bad ribs, too.”
“No, I’m okay.”
“You’re far from okay, sport. Let me put some tape on those ribs. Be nice if you didn’t puncture a lung tonight.” Cassidy winced and gave in. Even tough guys listened to reason once in a while. When the doctor had finished he peered at the broken nose. “I could do something with that schnozz …” Cassidy shook his head.
“No, it’s okay. Tomorrow’s fine.”
“You’re the doctor,” he said. “Well, your large friend got a whole load kicked out of him, gentlemen. Somebody beaned him three times with … I don’t know, a ball bat or something. Mean, real mean.” He sucked on the Lucky. “Goddamn animals out there. They come out at night. Which is why we’ve got emergency rooms.”
Kiss Me Once Page 21
