Tricks

by Ed McBain

"I'm saying in case. They're both dummies, but you oughta be warned. They got a bulletin out hellip; they asked me for descriptions They're gonna be watching all the airports. What flight are you on?"

  "TWA's one twenty-nine. Leaves at twelve-oh-five tomorrow afternoon."

  "What time do you get to Frisco?"

  "Four forty-seven."

  "I'll try you at the hotel around six-thirty. You'll be registered as Jack Gwynne, am I right?"

  "All the dead ones," he said, and laughed. "Like Sebastian the Great."

  "Give me the number of the Hong Kong flight again?"

  "United eight-oh-five. Leaves Frisco at one-fifteen Sunday, gets there around eight the next morning."

  "When will you call me?"

  "Soon as I'm settled."

  "You think that passport'll work?"

  "It cost us four hundred bucks, itbetter work. Why? You running scared?"

  "Nerves of steel," she said. "You shoulda seen me with the cops."

  "No problem with the ID, was there?"

  "None."

  "You did mention the cock?"

  "Oh, sure."

  "Little birthmark and all?"

  "Come on, we went over this a hundred times."

  "You went over it a hundred times."

  "And hated every minute of it."

  "Sure."

  "Youknow that, damn it."

  "Sure."

  "You going to start on me again?"

  "I'm sorry."

  "You oughta be. All we've been through."

  "I said I was sorry."

  "Okay."

  There was a long silence on the line. "So whattya gonna do till noon tomorrow?"

  "Thought I'd go down for a drink, then come back and get some sleep."

  "Be careful."

  "Oh yeah."

  "They know what you look like."

  "Don't worry." Another silence.

  "Maybe you oughta call me later tonight, okay?"

  "Sure."

  "Be careful," she said again, and hung up.

  CHAPTER 8

  "Torpedoman ain't gonna like this," Larry said.

  "Who asked you?" Eileen said.

  "For a working girl, all you done so far is sit and drink."

  "Guess it just ain't my lucky night," Eileen said.

  "Whattya talkin' about? I already seen you turn down a dozen guys."

  "I'm particular."

  "Then you shouldn't be in this dump," Larry said. "Particular ain't for the Canal Zone."

  Eileen knew he was only pointing out the obvious: the name of the game was money, and a hooker working a bar wasn't a girl at the Spring Cotillion. You didn't tell a prospective John your card was filled, even if he looked like Godzilla. Larry was already suspicious, and that was dangerous. Get a few more guys giving her the fish eye, and she could easily blow thereal reason she was here.

  Sheryl and the frizzled brunette were still out with the blond sailor, but Eileen was ready to bet her shield they'd be back in business the moment they returned. There was no way any enterprising girl could avoid making a buck in here. The bar was in incessant motion, a whorehouse with a liquor license and a transient crowd. Any man who came in alone walked out not five minutes later with a girl on his arm. According to Shanahan, the girls mdash;even some of them on the Canalside meat rack mdash;used either a hot-bed hotel up the street or any one of fifty, sixty rooms for rent in the Zone. They usually paid five bucks for the room, got a kickback from the owner and also a share of the three bucks the John paid for soap and towels. That way, a twenty-dollar trick could net a girl the same twenty when all was said and done. Plus whatever tip a generous John might decide to lay on her for superior performance.

  She glanced down the length of the bar to where Annie was sitting in earnest conversation with a little Hispanic guy wearing jeans, boots, and a black leather jacket studded with chrome. Looked like Annie was having the same problem. The only difference was that she could step outside every now and then, make it look like she was drumming up trade on the street. Eileen was glued to the bar. The bar was where the killer had picked up his three previous victims. She tried to catch Annie's eye. They had figured out beforehand that if they wanted to talk they'd do it in the ladies' room, not here in public. Eileen wanted to dope out a scam that would cool Larry's heat.

  "Torpedoman's gonna whip your ass," he said.

  "You wanna make a little side bet?" Eileen said. "You wanna bet I go home with six bills before the night's over?"

  Annie finally looked over at her.

  Eye contact.

  Brief nod of her head.

  Eileen got off the stool and started for the ladies' room. The Hispanic guy sitting next to Annie got off his stool at the same time. Good, Eileen thought, she's ditching him. But the Hispanic walked straight toward her, meeting her halfway down the bar.

  "Hey, where you goin', Mama?" he said. Loud voice for a little twerp, Spanish accent you could cut with a machete. Little brown eyes, mustache under his nose, looked like an undernourished biker in his leather jacket.

  "Got to visit my grandma," Eileen said.

  "You gran'ma can wait," he said.

  Behind him, down the bar, Annie was watching them.

  Another brief nod.

  All right already, Eileen thought. As soon as Ishake this guy.

  The guy wasn't about to be shaken. He gripped Eileen's elbow in his right hand, began steering her toward the stool she'd abandoned mdash;"Come on, Mama, we ha' biss'niss to talk abou' " mdash;same loud voice, you could hear him clear across the river, fingers tight on her elbow, plunked her down on the stool mdash;"My name iss Arturo, I been watchin' you, Mama" mdash;and signaled to Larry.

  "You want me to wet my pants?" Eileen asked.

  "No, no, I sornly don' wann you to do that," he said.

  Larry ambled over.

  "See wha' my frien' here iss drinkin'," Arturo said.

  She couldn't make a fuss about the ladies' room now, not with Larry standing right here and already believing she was turning down tricks left and right. Spot Annie trailing her in there, they'dboth be out of business.

  "Larry knows what I'm drinking," she said.

  "Rum-Coke for the lady," Larry said, "it's still prom night. How about you, amigo?"

  "Scotch on dee rahss," Arturo said. "Twiss."

  Larry started pouring.

  "So how much you get, Mama?" Arturo asked.

  "What are you looking for?"

  "This swee' li'l ting here," he said, and put his forefinger on her lips.

  "That'll cost you twenty," she said.

  Going price, in case Larry was listening. Which of course he was.

  "You got someplace we can go, Mama?"

  "Plenty of rooms for rent around here." Everything kosher so far. But Larry was still here.

  "How much do I pay for dee room?" Arturo asked.

  "Five."

  Larry raised his eyebrows. He knew the girls usually paid for the room themselves but he figured Linda here was hustling the little spic. Maybe shewould go home with six bills tonight, who the hell knew?

  "Muy bien, muchacha," Arturo said.

  "Rum-Coke, scotch-rocks with a twist," Larry said, sliding the drinks closer to them. "Six bucks, a bargain."

  Arturo put a ten-dollar bill on the counter. Larry started for the cash register at the far end. As soon as he was out of earshot, Arturo whispered, in perfect English, "I'm on the job, play along."

  Eileen's eyes opened wide.

  At the far end of the bar, Annie gave another brief nod. Larry rang open the register, put the ten in the drawer, took four bills out of it, slammed the drawer shut again, and then started back toward where they were sitting, sipping at their drinks now. Arturo had his hand on Eileen's knee, and he was peering down the front of her blouse. She was saying, " 'Cause like, you know, I'm a working girl, Artie, so I'd like to get started, if that's okay with you."

  "Hey, no sweat, Mama," he said. "We can tay dee bo
oze wid us."

  "Not inmy good glasses," Larry said, and immediately began transferring the drinks to plastic cups.

  Eileen was already off the stool. She turned to Larry and said, "Glad you didn't take that bet?"

  Larry shrugged.

  He watched them as they picked up the cups and walked away from the bar. He was thinking he wouldn't mind a piece of that himself. As they started out the door, they almost collided with a man coming in at the same time.

  "Oh, I beg your pardon," he said, and stepped aside to let them through.

  Larry was sure he'd seen the guy before. He was at least six-feet two-inches tall, with wide shoulders and a broad chest, thick wrists, big hands. He was wearing jeans, sneakers, a little tan cap, and a yellow turtleneck sweater that matched the color of his hair. He looked like a heavyweight fighter in training.

  "You're notleaving , are you?" he asked Eileen.

  She breezed right past him, ignoring him.

  But her heart was suddenly pounding.

  Annie sat at the bar wearing a short tight black skirt, purple tube top cradling her cupcake breasts, high-heeled black patent leather shoes, face heavily pancaked, blood-red lipstick on her mouth, eyes lined in black, lids tinted to match the blouse, looking more like a hooker than any of the real ones in the place.

  She thought Terrific. Here he is.

  All we need is this little trick of fate.

  Eileen walking out while he walks in.

  Eileen loaded to the gunnels, me wearing only a .38 in my handbag, terrific.

  Eileen the decoy, me the backup, and in he walks.

  Terrific.

  Ifit's him.>

  He sure as hell looked like the blond guy Alvarez and Shanahan had described. No eyeglasses, but the same height and weight, the same bulk.

  Standing just inside the doorway now, looking over the place, cool, confident in his size, ready to take on any guy in the place, mop up the floor with him, this cat had nothing to worry about, oh no, handsome as the devil, oh so cool, scanning the room, checking out the girls, then walking up toward the bar, passing the cash register where she sat hellip;

  "Hi," she said. "Wanna join me?"

  "Danny Ortiz," Arturo said on the street outside. "Detective/Second, Undercover Narcotics. I got a call from Lou hellip;"

  Lou, Eileen thought. Not Lou the friendly white man who'd turned out Sheryl, if that was her real name. In novels, everybody had different names so you could tell them apart. In real life, Lou could be a pimp and a detective at the same time. Lou Alvarez of the Seven-Two.

  " hellip; said I ought to check out Larry's Bar, see his decoy needed some help. Described you and Rawles, sat with her, talked her up, she told me the Johns were hitting on you like locusts. Am I screwing anything up?"

  Lou Alvarez, calling his buddy Danny Ortiz in Narcotics, asking him to run on over here, hit on the decoy, take her out of the joint to preserve her credibility.

  "You saved my life," Eileen said.

  Bit of an exaggeration, but at least he'd saved her cover.

  "So you wanna neck or anything?" Ortiz said. "Pass the time?"

  "That's the best offer I've had all night," she said. "But I gotta get back in there."

  Ortiz looked at her.

  "Our man just walked in," she said.

  His size was intimidating. He filled the stool, filled the bar, seemed to fill the entire room. Sitting next to him, Annie was scared. If this was the guy hellip;

  "So what's your name?" she asked.

  "What's yours?"

  "Jenny," she said.

  "I'll bet."

  Deep voice rumbling up out of his barrel chest.

  "Well," she said, "my straight handle is Antoinette Le Fevrier, but who'll believe that on a hooker?"

  "Oh, is that what you are?" he asked.

  Voice almost toneless. Bored attitude. Looking in the mirror, checking out the other girls in the place even as he talked to her.

  "No, I'm a famous brain surgeon," Annie said, and smiled.

  He did not smile back. Turned to look at her. Eyes the color of steel. A chill ran up her spine. Where the hell was Shanahan?

  "You still didn't tell me your name," she said.

  "Howie," he said.

  Sounded square enough to be true.

  "Howie what?"

  "Howie's enough," he said, and folded his hands on the table-top. No tattoo on either one of them. Was he, or wasn't he? "So what you do is make love to strangers, huh?" he said. "For money."

  She didn't want this guy to ask her outside. Not with only the .38 in her bag and Shanahan nowhere in sight.

  "That's my job. You interested?"

  "You're not my type," he said.

  "Oh? And what's your type?" she asked. Keep him talking. Keep him interested till Eileen walked back in. And if Eileendidn't walk in soon, then talk him into takingher outside to make his move. If Shanahan was anywhere around, he'd be tracking both of them.

  "I like them younger," he said. "And fresher."

  "Well, what you see is what you get," she said.

  "You seem too far gone."

  "Uh-huh," she said, "practically ancient." One of the dead girls had been sixteen. The others were in their twenties. Keep him here, she thought. Don't let him wander off to any of the younger girls in here, or they'll drift away together and he'll score another one tonight.

  "I mean, what can I tell you?" she said. "I'm not a teenager, but I'm pretty good for an old lady."

  He turned to look at her again.

  No smile.

  Christ, he was chilling.

  "Really?" he said.

  "Really."

  Come-on look in her eyes. She licked her lips. But she had only the .38 in her bag. No backup artillery. And Shanahan God knew where. Ortiz heading back home soon as he cleared Eileen, wham, bam, thank you, ma'am, or so it would appear to Larry.

  "Ten for a handjob," she said, "how about it? Twenty for a blowjob, thirty if you want the pearly gates."

  "My, my," he said. "You really are a seasoned pro, aren't you?"