Beautiful, Naked & Dead (Moses McGuire) (14 page)

The sun glittered off the wake of a ferry, returning from Alcatraz. The rocky prison sat peacefully in the bay; it had been Al Capone’s last home. How many ghosts roamed those pain filled iron halls? I’d done a four-year stint in Chino, for a joyride in a stolen Mercedes. I was twenty-two and all alone. I hooked up with a Chicano cat named Tommy, he wasn’t in a gang. The Aryan brothers called me a race traitor, the blacks hated us because of our skin. Inside you either joined or fought, so we watched each other’s backs, lifted weights and kicked ass when called to. Tommy taught me to go insane in battle, the crazier the better. Let them know you don’t give a fuck, laugh and howl when you attack. I learned to become a berserker, that was the Viking term for the first wave of soldiers they sent in, wild men who went insane on their enemies. I remember this skinhead coming after me in the yard. I let him hit me, felt my blood rising, let him hit me again until somewhere deep down I snapped. I let out a wild war cry, wrapping my arms around his trunk I lifted him off the ground, slamming his body into a light stanchion. Pushing his neck into the crook of my arm I crushed down on his throat. I could see his brothers moving in and I felt his body go limp in my arms. I was outside my body watching it all go down. If Tommy hadn’t arrived I would have killed the man. Tommy let out a wild laugh, setting himself for battle he danced between me and the Aryan brothers, a skinny shiv in his hand. Letting out a screaming laugh I dropped the gasping punk to the ground. I scanned the group, looking for my next victim. The skinheads let us walk, gave us a pass that day. What do you do with crazy bastards who don’t give a rat’s ass what you do to them; how do you threaten the insane? I wondered where Tommy was now, did he ever make it out of the life, was he living in the suburbs with a wife and the kids he dreamed about? Was our time together just a bad dream he finally woke from?

Cass tossed pieces of French bread to a building group of seagulls. She laughed as they caught the bread in midair. For a brief moment, the scars that made her seem so old were erased and I could see the girl she would have been if the world were fair. I was filled with the desire to make her world safe and just, a world where men didn’t fuck little girls and make them old before their time. A world I knew didn’t exist for people like us. Ok, that was only half of what I was thinking, deeper down in my shadow self I wished I was one of the men who got to fuck her. The sun fire in her hair, the way her firm body showed through the demure dress. She’s Kelly’s sister, how fucked am I.

“You’re doing it again,” she said.

“Doing what?”

“Staring at me.”

“What, I’m not supposed to look at you now?” I said looking back out at the water.

Tossing the crab shells into a trash can we headed back to the Barbary Coast. Strip clubs were an addiction for most men. If Kelly had met Gino there odds were he’d come back. The Coast was quiet, a few early birds sat at the bar and chatted up the day girls. I ordered a Gimlet, a gin and Rose’s lime juice and promised to pace my drinking. Cass had a diet coke and a bowl of pretzels. Jane the bartender was a stout girl, she had on low-rise jeans and a short shirt, showing off her sweet fuzz dusted round belly. She reminded me of a juicy peach, inviting you to take a thirst-quenching bite. When I asked her about Gino, she put a finger to her temple, pretending to think. “Your friend Benjamin Franklin might know a Gino,” she said with a cute smile. I dropped a hundred on the bar. She lifted it to her ear. “Oh really, no…” she said talking to the bill, then looked over to me. “He told me, Gino used to come in here, but he hasn’t been around for a while.”

“Does our friend know what he looked like?” I asked.

“Um,” she said listening to the bill again, “He said Gino was pushing sixty hard, with a bad dye job. Always wore nice suits, and tipped well.” With that she dropped the bill into her tip jar.

“Do you think your friend Grant might know anything else?” I said dropping a fifty on the bar.

“You don’t look like a fed, and you sure don’t tip like a fed.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Only if you like cheap suits and a lousy pension.”

“I’m just a guy, looking for a guy, hoping you can help.”

“You are not just a guy.” She flashed me a smile. Cass looked from Jane to me, then got up and headed for the ladies’ room. “I don’t think your girlfriend likes me.”

“Do you care?” I asked.

“Hum, no, I guess I don’t.” She let her fingers dance along my hand. Something about being with a pretty girl made other pretty girls want you. It’s like you have a seal of approval. They want to know what the other girl sees in you. I caught her finger in my palm and pulled her closer to me.

“Tell me about Gino, why are the feds looking for him?”

“What will you give me if I tell you?”

“My undying appreciation.”

“I was hoping for something a bit more, um, concrete. But that will do, for now,” she said with a meaningful grin. “He used to come in every Friday night, eight o’clock on the dot. He was into some kind of internet porn, but in the boom days, who wasn’t? He hired some of the girls to work for him. They said he paid good, even better for rough stuff. Four or five months ago he stopped coming in, I just figured he moved back to Chicago. But then the feds came sniffing around, so who knows what happened. Did I do good?”

“You did great.”

“Are you going to give me some candy?”

“Which girls worked for him?” I said with a slight chuckle, god, she was cute.

“Shelly and Crystal, maybe others. Shelly moved to LA, but Crystal is on the schedule for tonight. She may even surprise us all and show up.”

“Thank you,” I said, putting the fifty into her tip jar.

“You’ll be back.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I saw the way you looked at me.” She traced her body with her finger, circling her belly. “You will be back, and not just to talk to Crystal.”

“Time will tell.” I said and walked away. I caught Cass coming out of the ladies’ room and together, we walked out into the street. With the last golden light of the setting sun banks of fog rolled up over the tall hills, blanketing the Victorians in softness. We walked down to Chinatown.

“One of the dancers came into the bathroom, she just stared at me.”

“Maybe she was coming on to you.”

“I don’t think so. I think she recognized me.”

“Damn… I shouldn’t have taken you in there.”

“That bitch Jane would have been happier if you hadn’t, could she have been any less subtle? And what was that shit with the talking to the bill?” she said, setting her jaw. I would be flattered if I didn’t know I was just a prize the girls were fighting over. I didn’t have any value until they noticed someone else noticing me. Kelly had got it right, my only value was as a protector, like a big mean dog. We ate at a small Chinese restaurant. I had no idea where she put it, but Cass could pack the food in. Half my size and she matched me bite for bite. We had greasy pork fried rice, broccoli beef, lemon chicken, egg rolls, pressed duck, fried wontons and a gallon of green tea. Well fed and feeling comfortable we walked back toward the hotel. Cass slipped her arm into mine, the fog swirled around us haloing the streetlights in the mist above. To any passers by we looked like lovers on a romantic date. “Moses?” Cass asked in a soft whisper.

“Yeah?”

“If we met, on the street, or in a park… Would you like me?” I knew what she was asking, the question we all asked. If we met in the straight world, would we be of worth.

“Yes, I think I would,” I said. She smiled and snuggled her blonde head against my ribcage. The fact was I’d have liked her anywhere. But if things were different, I doubt she would have noticed me.

Back in our room she jumped onto the bed. “Want to play tent, big boy?” She flipped the blankets up, letting them drift slowly down. I shook my head fighting to hold down my grin. I washed my face and got ready to go back out. We had agreed it would be best if Cass stayed away from the Barbary Coast.

“Why don’t you stay in tonight?” she purred from the bed.

“Clock is ticking, we have to find them before they find us.”

“If you fuck that bitch, I’ll smell it on you,” she said, hard and cold.

“Stay in the room. And…”

“I know, don’t open the door for anyone.” I gave her my .45 with no doubt she would plug anyone stupid enough to break in on her.

It was ten o’clock and the club was starting to fill up with men from all walks of life. All searching for something, most shallow enough to think they could find it here. Jane let out a small laugh when she saw me at the bar. “I see you dumped the skirt,” she said setting down a gimlet.

“Yeah, she was cramping my style. Did Crystal show up?”

“Hell must be freezing over, she’s in the back room giving some drunk a lap ride. So I guess you’re stuck with me, at least for a couple of songs.”

“Lucky me.” The gin felt warm in my belly. It took the edge off the pressure building inside me and that was good, so good I ordered another.

“I’m not a tramp you know,” she said “I don’t throw myself at every hunk of man stuff that walks through that door. But there is something about you… ummm. Something different. This town is full of millionaire stock option babies, or at least it used to be, but real men are hard to find.”

“You want the truth?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not going to happen between us.”

“And yet here you are, without the skirt.”

“It isn’t going to happen with her either, if it did you’d both realize I’m nothing special. Just one more brother swimming for shore,” I said. She shook her head with a slight smile. I was drinking my third gimlet, starting to feel the comfortable buzz when Jane pointed out Crystal. She was a statuesque blonde in an emerald green evening gown. Her hair was piled up on her head, with tendrils framing her face. She was walking a grinning sailor out of the back room, he left her side and ran over to his buddies at the rail, slapping them five.

“Hi, handsome,” she said in a raspy sultry voice as I walked up to her, “Do you want a private dance?”

“I just need some information,” I said, her smile dropped instantly.

“And I need to make a living.” Her eyes roamed the room. I snapped a fifty in front of my face. The sound got her attention. In a flash the fifty disappeared into her hand. She led me to a booth, sliding in next to me. “You have my undivided attention.”

“Tell me about Gino.”

“Who?” she said, with a blank expression.

“Torelli. Let’s not dance around it. You did some cyber work for him. Ringing any bells?”

“Oh that Gino, sure I did a gig for him, down in South City, he had a studio set up, he and some tech geek. It was a scam, they had me pose in different positions, strip, touch myself. Later they rigged it so guys thought they were talking to a live girl. They had some kind of program that would play the sections that linked to what the guy was typing. Isn’t technology grand?”

“You have an address for this studio?”

“Gino drove, sorry.”

“Could you find it again, if the price was right?”

“Much as I’d love to take your cash, I’m afraid it would waste both our time. Zanax and champagne you know? It’s all a happy blur.” She looked away from me, scanning the room again.

“One last thing, do you have any idea where I could find Gino?”

“Only thing I ever saw was his big comfortable BMW.” At the bar she noticed a lone man in an expensive looking suit. Without even a goodbye she stood up and headed for the man. She was like a graceful shark who had just smelled blood in the water. I hung around the club watching the cash driven mating rituals. I don’t know what I expected to find out, maybe I hoped Gino would walk through the door, sit down and tell me what the hell happened. He didn’t so I kept drinking gimlets and watching.

“You met Crystal, mission accomplished. And there you sit, your fine ass still on my bar stool. What is a gal to make of that?” Jane said giving me a sideways over the shoulder smile that could melt the polar caps and drown Malibu. The DJ was spinning Robert Cray’s “Back Door Man”, and I don’t know who I figured I was cheating on but the song seemed to fit my mood just right.

“Don’t make nothing of it little girl, just a fool having a drink in a bar,” I said.

“There is nothing little about me,” she said, stopping to look into my eyes. “And I haven’t been a girl since I started to bleed. But you got one thing right. You are a fool, if you walk out that door without making a date to take me out later.”

“Have you ever been at a moment in your life when it’s all falling in, a tumbling shit storm and you can’t see up or down? Just struggling to keep moving forward and not step on a land mine. You ever feel like that?”

“Baby, I’m tending bar in a strip club, what do you think? This is not the career choice one makes when life is all peaches and cream,” she said ignoring a drunk pounding his beer mug at the other end of the bar. “But you have to learn to roll with it or it rolls over you.”

“This one’s bigger than that.”

“Bigger than what?”

“Bigger than whatever you were imagining,” I said. She looked at me, wide eyed. Rising up on straight arms she looked over the bar and down at my lap.