“Let me say something,” he said forcefully, then dripped solemn sincerity into his voice. “I can understand why you despise me. I’m not much good —”
“Not any good.”
“Maybe I’m a junkie and a con man. I’ll probably always be a hustler. I’ve tried to quit, and I’m trying to cut back on the shit. You know how this shit drives a guy. It makes him do things that aren’t right. I’m not any good, but I’m better than the vultures who peddle it and suck my blood. I hate them as much as you do. I didn’t go to Wilson to duck out on you, but like I said, you weren’t using any discretion. You despise me so much that you were going to get me killed.”
He paused for a response. There was only a grunt. At least it was not ear-burning vilification.
“I’m still working on what you want, and I think I’ve got an angle.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“I’m pretty sure I can find out who the connection is, if you help me.”
“Help you?” Crowley was instantly wary. It edged the tone of his reply. “How’s that? Say it real slow, so I can think about it. You are such a slimy rat.”
“Momo’s shacking up with a young broad.”
“I know. Dorie Williams. Age twenty-seven. Good family. No arrest record, but she’s an addict. She’s a psych case, too. I checked on her with the hospital. See, I know a little about what’s going on.”
“That’s her. The thing is that she goes for me in a big way. She knows who the Man is.” He stopped, waiting.
After a few seconds of silence, Crowley snapped, “So pump her. What’s that got to do with me? You think I should pick her up and rough her up, or something? They’d have my badge.”
“No, not that. I wanna work on her, but I don’t get more than a few minutes at a time. Momo’s always bird dogging the scene. He don’t give her no air. He’s the problem. If you could jerk him in for a few hours -” Stark heard the bedroom door click open and broke off. He was on the sofa and cupped the receiver and looked over his shoulder at the girl. She looked curiously at him, but he could tell that she hadn’t heard anything. His first impulse was to order her back to the bedroom, but it might create a situation. He decided the conversation could be fogged up at this point so she would not understand the gist of it. He motioned her to go into the kitchen and make him some coffee, holding out his empty hand as if it held a mug he kept sipping.
“Stark… Stark, what the hell,” Crowley was angrily shouting.
“Yeah, I’m here.” “Where the hell did you go?”
“A cigarette fell out of the ashtray on the carpet.”
“So finish,” Crowley pressed.
“If you do what I said, I can make that move and help you. I’m working on that other for Wilson, too.”
Crowley sucked his teeth, considering. “All of a sudden you’re co-operative as hell.”
“You got it wrong. All of a sudden there’s something I can do without getting killed. This is good, you might get a promotion out of it.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Crowley said dubiously. “It might be the truth, and it might be some kind of game.” Crowley hesitated, reflected. Stark waited. Finally the cop said, “If it is a game, I can’t figure out your angle. But I don’t know, you probably have one. I don’t have anything to lose, so I’ll go for it. When do you want me to take him in? Maybe he’ll spill about the connection, then I won’t need you.”
“Not likely, or you would have done it a long time ago. Do it at noon today, give or take an hour. It shouldn’t be too hard.”
“No, I can find him by his smell. How long do you want me to hold him?”
“Three or four hours. You can tell him the girl gave up his connection.”
“And while he’s gone you’re gonna lay her.”
“That’s part of the game… the fun part.”
“Will she tell you who the Man is?” asked the cop.
“I know I can get it out of her.” “Oh, Christ! I don’t know why I’m a cop. I get dirty just from being around people like you.”
“So quit.”
“Nope. It’s stale, but somebody’s got to do it. I got a stronger stomach than most.”
“So, I can count on you doing that?”
“Yes. Call me later and tell me what you find out. It better be good, or you’re dead meat.”
“Sure. Sure. Don’t worry.”
“Watch out for Dummy. I don’t want you dead before I can squeeze you.”
“Some joke, Pat,” he said and hung up laughing before Crowley could curse him.
There was a grin on his lean face as he turned to Dorie. The girl was still standing near the bedroom door. She was barefoot, wearing only lace panties and the shirt he had discarded the night before. The ensemble accentuated her full, long legs, smooth and firm. Coupled with the lack of makeup and sleep-tousled hair, her appearance was of both extreme youth and lush sensuality. She had a burning cigarette in her mouth and blinked from the rise of smoke. She understood Stark’s stare of appraisal and smiled softly. The Veronica Lake look.
“Uh uh,” he said. “I’ve got business this morning.”
Dorie shrugged. “Who’s Pat? Another girlfriend?”
“Nah, some booster… a deal about some hot merchandise for junk. The guy I was talking to is representing some other sucker. We might burn him. It ain’t nothing.” He stood up and came around the sofa toward the bedroom. Passing Dorie, he patted her on a bare, warm thigh. “Looking good, baby.”
“That’ll cost you a fix,” she said, “or maybe you want a fuck, too.”
“I always like more of you, but I left some shit in the john for you. There’s enough for a couple of jolts. I’m trying to cut back. Save some for later. I’ll be gone all day.”
She nodded, but did not go to the bathroom. For a moment she watched as he began to brush the shoes he was going to wear.
“I’ll fix in a few minutes,” she said. “I’ll make you some coffee if you want.”
He nodded absently. “There’s a jar of instant in the cupboard. The faucet isn’t quite hot enough. Fill a pan and stick it on the stove ‘til it boils.”
“Jesus, you think I don’t know how to make instant coffee?”
Dorie went toward the kitchen. Stark slipped the alligator shoes on and reached for the soft shirt and jacket. He combed his hair into perfect casualness and checked his appearance in the full length mirror on the back of the closet door. He was satisfied. The clothes were expensive and had flair without being flashy. Nobody would guess he was a thief and a con artist. He looked like a husband in suburbia with a ten thousand a year income, and good taste in clothes. Starting to leave, he had an impulse. He took the small automatic and slipped it into his front pocket. It weighed slightly against his leg, but did not bulge his jacket. He went out to the kitchen. Dorie had not only made the coffee but was just about scrambling bacon and eggs. They sizzled on the small stove. She was crouching down, checking the oven, when he arrived.
“If you wait for this to heat up you can have toast.”
“I haven’t got time.”
“The other stuff will be ready in two minutes.”
He grunted, but flickered a smile. He was anxious to get moving and felt strange at this display of thoughtful-ness.
“Go sit at the table,” she ordered. “I’ll bring you the coffee.”
He complied, sipped the steamy black liquid, and watched her semi-nude figure swish barefooted back to the stove, “You’re too much, Dorie. You blow as many ways as the wind.”
“I only feel like this once in a while. Sometimes I go the other way and don’t do anything for weeks except lay in bed and wipe out everything with junk.”
He sensed something of an appeal on its way, and cut her off. “Just bring my breakfast. Save the history for later,” he said somewhat abruptly.
She brought the bacon and eggs. “The refrigerator is empty. The milk’s sour and the oranges are green. We should have something to eat if you don�
�t want me to go into town.”
“I’ll take care of it. You won’t starve.” He began to eat. She watched for a moment, then indicated she was going to shoot up. Stark gulped down the meal and kept track of the time. It was five to ten. His show had to get on the road. He went to the bedroom door and leaned inside. Dorie was still in the bathroom.
“I’m leaving, baby,” he called. “It’ll be a long day. You could go for a swim in the afternoon. It’ll get hot later.”
Laughter erupted from the bedroom.
“In my bra and panties? They’d arrest me for indecent exposure.”
“They might arrest you, but you wouldn’t show them anything indecent… not naked. I forgot you didn’t bring any clothes.” He started to add this to his other problems, but caught himself, and pushed it away. Dorie’s lack of clothes could wait. “Goodbye, baby.”
“What time are you coming back?”
“Not sure. Maybe five. Don’t clock me.”
“I’ll clean the house today. There’s a layer of dust on everything.”
“Don’t bother. I like it the way it is.” Now she wants to set up house? Forget it. He wasn’t at all comfortable with this domestic scene. She was moving in too fast for him.
14
__________
The sun was rapidly burning away the gray overcast as Stark entered Oceanview. The tang of the ocean was in the air, even downtown. By noon the city would bask in golden warmth. It was a good day in several ways. Thinking of the scheme in its complexity, he chuckled. It might prove to be a helluva day…
The mood of gaiety was still with him as he parked near Momo’s apartment. He even whistled softly as he went up the stairs, though, as he knocked, he composed himself solemnly. This was serious business.
Bearded and unkempt, Momo opened the door. The guy’s black hair was a tangle and the only button fastened on his rumpled clothes was the top one of his pants, a concession to keeping them up. There was a stench of booze and his eyeballs were inflamed. On the cigarette-burned table in the middle of the room was an empty fifth of cheap whiskey. Beside it was a similar bottle a third full. There was an ounce package of heroin, broken open roughly, by drunken hands. Some of the white powder was spilled out onto the table. An outfit rested in a glass of water.
Stark scanned all of this as he waited for Momo to close the door behind him. The dumb slob was strung out on the broad and was hurting. She would never get to him that way.
“This is pretty careless,” Stark said, waving at the junk. “Leaving that ten-year sentence out there in the open. The heat might bust the door down. Then what?”
Momo waved a hand in a gesture rejecting the advice. He sank down in a chair next to the table and poured a drink. “If they bust the door down, then I guess I’d do that ten years.” He tossed the whiskey down and eyed Stark from head to toe.
“You’re lookin’ pretty sharp today, as usual. Who was that guy in England who was the famous sharp dresser? Couple hundred years ago, I guess?”
“Beau Brummel.”
“Yeah, that’s you. Big Beau. Want a drink?”
Stark accepted, though it was still morning.
“I should start wearing sharp clothes,” Momo continued, pouring Stark a drink and another for himself. “I might have been able to keep my old lady then.”
Stark’s brow wrinkled with surprise and concern. “What’s wrong, man? Where’s Dorie?”
“The bitch quit me. Poof.” Momo flapped his arms. “She flew the coop, sneaked out last night.”
“What’d you do to her? Kick her ass or something?” Momo managed a sickly laugh. “Kick her ass! Hell no. I was drunk and affectionate when we got home and told her we should get married. Go to Hawaii on our honeymoon. See my folks. She blew her cork. She acted like I’d said something dirty, like she would be going to bed with her father or something. Then I tried to make love to her and she wouldn’t let me. I almost whipped her then — wish I had - but I decided to get really drunk instead. When I was gone to buy liquor, she took off. The door was open and she was gone without taking her clothes or anything. No note. Nothing. For a while I thought she just went out for a walk to cool off or something, but she went farther than that. I hunted the neighborhood till three this morning. I know she didn’t hook up with you. She kept telling me to watch out for you. That you were evil. Dames. How can you figure them?” Momo tossed his shoulders at the futility of it.
“She might come back. She’s hooked, and she’ll need some stuff.”
“She can always get somebody to give her stuff, fine as she is.” Momo raised his glass, stared at its empty depths in the timeworn pose of reflection, and began to muse in a soft, whiskey-thickened voice. “I guess I loved her. She’s nuts, and a squarejohn broad, but she’s got a sharp mind. But she could run hot and then, suddenly, cold.” Momo shook his head slowly. Without warning, he drew back his arm and hurled the glass against a wall. It shattered. Startled, Stark jumped.
“Man, be cool. It’s only pussy. You knew she was nuts. You may be better off.”
Momo glared at him on the edge of violence.
“Don’t blow it,” Stark admonished calmly. “I’m your partner and your friend. I wouldn’t come between you and her. I know how you felt. Maybe she’ll stroll back in after she’s cooled off. You never know about dames. On the other hand, this may be a good thing for you. The broad is wacky and knows too much. What would’ve happened if they’d pulled her in and put the heat on her? She’d have given us both up. We’re better off without her.”
“Maybe you’re right, but…”
“So is a broad worth a trip to prison?” Stark shook his head in disgust. “Man, when we set this up, we can have really fine broads, those stylish bitches you see in magazines. We’ll have so much money… and you’ll be in a Caddy…” Stark drew a brief verbal picture of how they would live. His voice rang with glib optimism. Momo listened and calmed down somewhat.
“You’re right, I know that. But she had me hooked real good. I’ll be okay. I can see things like they really are and I’ll take care of business.” Momo even managed a grin of assurance, not wanting his associate to wonder if he was buckling under pressure. “You’re a good partner. You’re smarter than me. I know that. Maybe that’s why I didn’t like you for so long. I thought you was lookin’ down on me like I was a fool or something. And Dummy said not to trust you.”
Stark threw back his head and laughed. “Hell, I didn’t like you ‘cause you had all the junk. I was jealous. But forget all that. It’s nothing.” He cuffed Momo on the shoulder. “Let’s get this junk out of sight and get down to business. Leave out seven or eight grams. I might make that run to Riverside today and get rid of them… set up that pusher, too.”
Five minutes later, the heroin was hidden in a drainpipe just outside the bathroom window. The pipe had been plugged at the roof so nothing could come down. The package was hung on a wire at a joint that could be disconnected, but if the disconnection was not made in a certain way, after a pencil or knife blade was inserted into a hole a few inches below, the package would fall free down the pipe. Only Stark, Momo and Dorie knew the combination. It was easy to get at and almost impossible for police to find; if they did find it, the odds against ownership being proven in court were tremendous.
Together Stark and Momo partially straightened the dreary quarters. The bed was made, floor swept, and the bottles thrown into the wastebasket. Dirty clothes were piled in the bathtub as there was no laundry hamper. Stark took out the garbage while Momo went to shave. He was still shaving when Stark came back, entered the bathroom, and sat down on the toilet lid, leaning back in a comfortable semi-prone position. In the wastebasket were all of Dorie’s cosmetics.
“You ought to move out of this hole,” Stark said. “You’ve got enough money already.”
“I should, but -” he shrugged. “It’s better’n what I was raised in. On the island, my whole family slept in one small room. The toilet was an outhouse in the
back.”
“I didn’t grow up in Beverly Hills either. But I got a nice little apartment, real modern.”
Momo paused the razor in midstroke. “Yeah, by the way, where is your place? It ain’t in the tenderloin or I’d know it. I wondered about that yesterday.”
“It’s over in that new apartment house area near Broadcrest,” he lied. “I’ll take you over in a couple days. Maybe tomorrow. In fact, tomorrow we’re gonna get you some clothes and find you an apartment in a better neighborhood. This place is too hot. The cops are always around and know where to find you. Too many junkies have your address. That’s dangerous.”
Momo finished with the razor and, without a rinse, wiped off the remaining bits of lather with a towel, discarding that into the bathtub. “You should give me your phone number so I can get to you if something important happens.”
“I will when I get one. They should put it in next week. I’ve been waiting for a month.”
“They usually put them in quick.”
“Maybe they goofed or something. It’s a new apartment building and the other people got theirs. I’ll call the company tomorrow.” Momo accepted the lie without suspicion and went into the other room. Before following, Stark checked the time. It was ten minutes to eleven. He walked out of the bathroom directly toward the front door, stopping just in front of it.
“I better get moving.”
“What’s the hurry? Stick around. Go to breakfast with me.”
“I ate already. It’s a long drive to Riverside, better than two hours. I don’t want it to be dark when I get there and I’ve got to hunt a guy down. Anyway, there’s no money just bullshitting with you. Nothing we could do together that you can’t handle alone.”
Momo smiled sheepishly. “You’re right again. I can sell dope in Oceanview without any help. I just wanted some company.”
“I’ll be back about four o’clock. What’re you gonna do?”
“After I get breakfast I’ll get a haircut — first step on the new, suave Momo Mendoza. Then I’ll do what I always do, take some junk down to the Panama. They’ll be waiting for me with their noses running and half of ‘em will be a dollar short.”
Stark: A Novel Page 10
