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Authors: George V. Higgins

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BOOK: Trust
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5

Earl took the access road leading to the Lord Squire Motor Hotel off Route I-95 in New Rochelle. The hood of the Dodge shimmered heat. Penny raised her head and opened her eyes. “Hey,” she said, “what you doing?”

“You said you wanted to eat,” he said. The motel was two stories of varicolored brick situated between a convenience store and an Esso station.

“Here?”
she said. “You think I’m gonna eat,
here?
Like what? Canned soup and burgers? An hour ago, I wanted to eat. Now what I want’s some sleep.”

“You’re gonna eat,” Earl said. “The sign says they got a brunch.” He took a parking place near the green canopy extending from the main entrance. “Sundays, eleven to three.”

“Yeah,” she said. “ ‘All you can eat for two ninety-five.’ Jesus, you really are cheap. I can imagine what the eggs’ll look like. Should’ve eaten that shit on the plane. Christ, I’m hot.”

“Three ninety-five, actually,” he said. “Plus a complimentary Bloody Mary or screwdriver. You left Moneybags
at the airport, remember?” He shut off the engine. “And you’re hot,” he said, “because I been telling you since Easter to bring this goddamned thing the shop. Get the seals checked and the Freon reloaded. And you haven’t done it. You haven’t had time. You sleep all day and you bitch all night, and then you go outta town. Supposedly because we’re setting up this rich guy, and it’s the only way we can do it. But we’re not. What we’re doing is, I’m running in place, and you’re kiting around on vacation, one week every month.”

“Ten thousand a week is pretty good pay,” she said. “More’n you ever made. You sure you want to risk it?”

“It’s not ten a week,” he said. “It’s ten a month, six months a year. Plus the extras, when you get ’em, so we won’t count those. Which is, twelve, twelve fifty a week, gross. You think it’s ten grand a week, when you work once a month, half the year? Then I used to get a lot more’n that—a thousand for forty minutes. You wanna figure out what that comes to, a week? That’s twenty-five dollars a minute. Plus what I made myself, my own bets.”

“Yeah,” she said, “but you got caught. What’d they pay you in prison? How much a minute was that?”

“Look,” he said, “Penny, I don’t want a fight. You don’t understand what I’m telling you. Allen is paying you very good money, but Allen is good for much more. But just for a little while, he is good for it. We just got to explain this to him, before the time runs out. Because this, well,
job
, you got with him, it isn’t permanent. You know what happened to Nancy.”

“I don’t want to hear about the bitch,” she said.
“Allen ditched Nancy because of the drugs. Allen was right to do that.”

“Allen may’ve
said
he ditched Nancy for that,” he said, “but we both know that wasn’t it. Allen ditched Nancy because she made a mistake. The mistake was letting you move in, and letting him see you. Nancy was branching out. Thought she had an assistant, handle some of her business. Nancy was moving up, and you were the first one she picked. Bad choice. She didn’t count on you scooping her best customer. Didn’t think about how she’d begun to sag a little bit, he might like a newer model.”

“Bullshit,” she said. She put her head back and shut her eyes again.

“ ‘Bullshit,’ nothing,” he said. “You’re in a business, lady. It’s purely a matter of business, and your attitude about it bothers me. You don’t
want
to think about it, so you
don’t
think about it, and that means it isn’t a business. Well, it is, just the same. I used to be in a business just like it. They were using my ass like a bastard, getting rich off me, paying me chickenshit, I think I’m big time, while they’re the ones getting rich. Buying me drinks, and getting me laid, and then who goes to the slammer?
I
go to the slammer. And where did
they
go? I dunno. Vegas, most likely. Never heard from the bastards again. Hell, I never knew most of their names.

“I’m trying to tell you, okay? Experience counts, all right? It counts against you. The longer you been at it, the less interested the customers are. I used up my eligibility? ‘So long, baby—Ciao.’ Just like Allen will do to you, some fine day. It goes with your line of work.

“And then what?” he said. “You wanna be an old
whore someday? Because you’re
gonna
be old. You don’t have a choice about that part. And the hooker part you won’t, either. Old whores don’t make much money. Old ladies with money don’t hook, and old ladies with money don’t care. You wanna be an old lady, with her own money? Or an old whore who can’t make a dime? It’s the same thing with me.
I’m
gonna get old. I don’t wanna be an old ex-con. Nobody hires them for nothing. I wanna be a nice,
secure
, old man. Spending the winters in Florida. Playing the golf and stuff. Clipping my coupons and washing my false teeth. Driving my own Cadillac.

“That’s what you don’t understand,” he said. “Or pretend you don’t understand, ’cause you know what I’m saying is right. That’s what I’m telling you, all right? There’s only so many chances. You’re lucky, you get one. I had my one, and I blew it. My brother had his one—he took it. He was smart, and I was stupid. I admit it. Tough shit for me. Now you never had one, but this comes along, and I’m telling you: this is your one. Now listen to what I am saying. I got myself in the shit once, and I climbed out of the shit. Which very few guys ever do. You haven’t been in the shit yet, and believe me, you don’t want to
go
in. Listen a guy who knows how it is, and we both stay out of the shit. Don’t throw your one away. Just listen to what old Earl says.”

“Shut up,” she said. “Too hot to talk. Just drive and let me sleep.”

He grabbed her by her upper left arm. “Listen to me,” he said in a low voice. “I didn’t know
you
till I met you, but I knew a lot of ladies in the same damned line of work. I met them, got introduced, by guys like
Allen, there. They
gave
those ladies to me. ‘Here’s a freebie on the house. Don’t beat Temple by nine. Eight’ll be fine, but not nine.’ At the time I thought: ‘Geez, this dame is old. Looks good, but she is old. Ah, what hell. Long as she sucks the cock.’ I was nineteen, twenty, all right? These old broads
were
old. Some of them almost twenty-five. But to me, they were old.

“Okay,” he said, “this was New York. A little higher speed. Boston? Maybe ten years later, but no more’n that. You don’t believe me, just ask Nancy. Nasty, but the facts.

“Now,” he said, “the next time Allen has a birthday with a zero in it, the first digit’s gonna be six. All right?”

“Allen’s in good shape,” she said lazily, her eyes still shut. “His stomach’s flat as a rock. He doesn’t drink like you do, and he treats me very nice. You should look as good as he does, you get to be his age. You should look as good as he does,
now.
Let go my arm.” She shrugged it.

Earl let go of her arm and turned in his seat. Her breasts rose and fell under the white sweater. She had a small smile. “He treats you like a toy,” he said. “An expensive toy, but a toy. The next birthday you see with a zero in it’s gonna have a three in it, too. He’s going to the island now, be with his lovely wife. His
third
lovely wife. How old is she? Probably close to forty. Twelve years or so older’n you are. You think that when you’re thirty-five, Allen’s still gonna be interested? Fat fuckin’ chance he will, thirty-five-year-old honey. I know you give great blow jobs, and that’s what Allen likes. But sucking cocks is not a job you need much training for. Couple outings, any broad can do
it. I hear some guys can do it, too. There was talk like that in prison. What matters to guys like Allen is that the broad is
young
, and her tits’re high, and she looks like a fresh young tender piece of ass that only a rich man can buy. And then later on, replace. You got two years at the maximum before he goes and clumps you. You either get the bundle before he does that, or you go fuckin’ without. Try to find some other pigeon, when you’re thirty-three. You’ll be hanging around lounges. Looking out for plainclothes guys, and hoping for a trick. That’ll at least pay the room, so you got a place to sleep.”

She opened her eyes. “Got lucky last night, huh?” she said.

“I got laid,” he said, “if that’s lucky. Doesn’t take a lot of talent.”

“Thanks a lot,” she said. “I’m coming home, you’re picking me up, but while you’re waiting, you screw.”

“Well,” he said, “at least I didn’t have Allen’s dick in my mouth. Like some people that I could name.”

She slapped him. “Earl,” she said, “I did it for you. You were the one, thought of it. It was all your idea, I start sweet-talking him. ‘Hey, this looks like love to me, Allen. How ’bout if I stop taking calls, stop going out to hotels?’ And he went for it. Well, it was a good idea. So far, at least, it has been. But if it turns sour, that’s not my fault. Wasn’t me that thought it all up. Wasn’t Allen, either. The whole thing was all your damned idea.”

“Well,” he said, “and it was a good one. So long’s you remember the whole thing. The first thing’s a good thing, but it’s temporary. Guy doesn’t hurt you. Pays you in cash. Doesn’t need you around all that often,
and the cops don’t care about that shit. Very good thing all around.”

He slapped her. “But then comes the second part,” he said. “The big reason for this whole idea. You pick up some dingbat in some bar someplace, and you go his room with him, haul his ashes. And he’s a nice guy. He’s grateful. He does not beat you up. He gives you a big hundred bucks. Well, that’s great, but it’s like buying neckties wholesale for a buck, and selling them for fifty cents: You can’t make a profit on volume. And you can’t retire on what you make, turning tricks night after night, when Allen spots a new model.

“You also,” he said, as she rubbed her left jaw, “you also can’t do it on Allen.
Unless
you make Allen give you the bundle, and put the cash into the bank. If we shake him down, like we said we would do, and he pays us a million damned dollars, we got five grand a month for the rest of our lives, and the million still left at the end. And that, dear, is serious money.”

She sat up straight in the seat. She yawned. “Why is it you’re stealing this car?”

“Because I got to,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going on. My brother called me, and he said: ‘Go see this guy.’ And I said: ‘Who the fuck is he?’ And Donald said. ‘Look, you don’t wanna know. And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. He’s a guy that a friend of mine knows, that he owes a damned favor to. So go down and see him, find out what he wants, and then do what he tells you, all right?’ And I go: ‘Well, how’s this involve me? Maybe he wants a guy killed.’ And Don goes: ‘Oh it’s nothing as heavy as that. This’s just kind of shady, and he needs it done, but not by a guy from down there. So, if you can do it, without fucking it up,
just do it without fucking up. And if you can’t, call me back, and I’ll make some more calls. Inna meantime, just go and see him.’ And I say. ‘I’m not gonna do this. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know who I’m doing it for. You can’t get me into this thing.’ And Donald says: ‘Look, have you got a record?’ I say: ‘Well, I did time.’ And Donald says: ‘Yeah, but you ain’t got a record. Keep in mind how come that is.’ ”

“It’s that politician up there,” she said.

“I assume so,” he said. “It must be. But I still don’t know why I’m doing this thing. I figure Ed Cobb’s behind it. My brother’n him’re like Siamese twins—but why Ed Cobb wants it done, I don’t know. All I do know’s that this guy Battles has got something on Ed Cobb, and Ed Cobb called my brother, and my brother called me. So Battles did something for one of them, once, or somebody that they like, and now he’s calling his marker. And it must’ve been something damned big, Battles did, if the bastard can get this much service.”

“Jesus,”
she said, “and you talk about
me?
Taking chances, I mean, and all that? I could get batted around by the wrong guy?
You
could go back to jail. And you’re doing what this fat shit tells you? Taking the car and just crushing it? You must be out of your mind. How much’re you getting for this?”

“Peace and quiet,” he said. “And some money, too. I’m not gonna crush the damned car.”

“You’re not,” she said.

“I’m not,” he said. “I have seen it. This is a prime Mercedes two-seater, worth about five or six K. One of those roadsters, robin’s-egg blue, and the seats’ve hardly been sat on. I’m gonna drive it up to Donald’s,
have him put it on the lot, and some rich asshole’ll buy it.”

“And you think Donald’ll
do
this?” she said. “Thought you said he thinks you’re a crook.”

“I
know
he’ll do it,” Earl said. “That’s
why
he’ll do it. Donald’s very religious. Because he likes money, and there’s nothing that goes better together’n money and religion, except gin and vermouth. And I got a story he’ll go for right off. It’s close enough to robbing a bank so that, coming from me, he’ll believe it. I heard it from a lawyer that was on the bus with me. Going in for an estate thing that he sold some stuff himself, only the stuff went to friends that didn’t pay much money. ’Less you counted all the cash they gave to him and didn’t mention. I’m gonna tell him I’m getting the bill of sale sent. And as soon’s I get back to old Waldo’s joint there, and grab a clean one from him, you fill it out and I send it to Donald, and he sells the car free and easy.”

“Me?” she said. “Why me?”

“Because you’re a woman,” he said, “and I’m telling Donald that I got this car from a hooker that’s been shipped out by her old man. Which he will go for like a trout goes for mayflies. Just dirty enough to sound good, but in this case, as legal as hell. And then it’s half for Donald and half for me, since I’m getting the damned thing for nothing. ’Cept for my trouble, I mean. And that’s exactly why I’m pushing you now. Let’s sell Allen the pictures. For the money. We do that and we both retire. Free, from sin, and free, from all temptation.”

She lifted the handle and unlatched the door. “Come on,” she said, “some wet eggs. And some sausages
soaked in the steam table too, cold toast and a watery drink.”

BOOK: Trust
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