The Erection Set (5 page)

Then I remembered yesterday's
News,
the item about the new controls to be exercised in narcotics production. Turkey was cutting back on her licensed poppy fields; France was going against the illegal processors; the U.S. was funding for an all-out war against the distributors. I started to sweat all over again. The origin of the postcards made sense now. So did the money. Dog was in the racket and was cutting out before they had him over a barrel. Damn it, Dog, are you nuts? You went and heisted somebody's bundle and they weren't law-conscious, good-guy police types. They'd track you down, cut your nuts off and let you bleed to death while you were holding them in your hand.

. And me. I was in it now too. I was his protector. I couldn't give the stuff away
...
I couldn't take a chance dumping it somewhere without leaving tracks. I just didn't think that way at all. All they had to find was the money or the bag and I'd be holding my own balls too. There was no way out, none at all.

 

 

 

I was sweaty and grimy and looked forward to a cool shower when I stuck the key in the lock and walked into Lee's apartment. He was standing in the middle of the living room pulling on his pants with nervous hands, his face white and puckered looking. He jammed his feet into a pair of loafers and never saw me until he picked up my suitcase and started toward the door and when he caught my eyes across the distance he nearly lost his grip on it.

“Going somewhere?” I shouldn't have let my teeth show through the grin like that. Hell, I could have
told
him where he was going. His face was like the proverbial open book. He was scared halfway out of his mind, but he was still the same old Lee and going through no matter what happened.

“Don't stop me, Dog.”

I shrugged, stepped aside and pulled a cigarette from my pack. “That leather's tough. It won't burn so easily. And besides, supposing some of that money starts drifting up the flue and lands in the street?”

The simple idea of it shook him and this time his fingers did let go. The bag slammed to the floor and rocked over slowly to lie on its side.

“You always could think things through, you bastard.” His face was mad now, more at himself for being stupid, then his anger turned back to me again. “Okay, where can I dump it?” He was ready to come through me again.

“Why not try the bank? There's one across the street.” I looked at my watch. “We still have an hour until closing.”

“Don't try bluffing me out, Dog.”

“You can always call, kid.”

“Okay, I'm calling,” he said.

I went over, picked up the bag and he followed me out, pulling on a tattered sport jacket over his T-shirt.

 

The teller called the manager and the manager called the president. Lee waited in the reception room while the president took me into his office. Two bank guards stood by watching Lee, and his lips were dry and cracked. When I came out, the bank was closed for the day, but we got a grand escort to the front door and a fine shaking of hands.

Outside, I handed Lee an envelope with the two pass-books, so he could look at them and he still didn't have enough spit in him to wet his lips. All he could say was, “What took so long?”

“They had to count it,” I said.

“You're crazy, Dog, absolutely crazy. You're going to get nailed sure as hell. Right now they're on somebody's hot line and we'll have visitors before we ever get home.”

“What makes you say that?”

He shook his head, astounded at my lack of interest. “Buddy, unless that was tax-paid, clean money with verified sources of ownership, your ass is in one hell of a sling.”

I grinned at him. “How about that? Now can I get my shower?” I asked.

I said, “Rose?”

“Yeah, Dog.” She sounded sleepy, but she knew my voice.

“I need you.”

“Sure. I knew you would. I've been waiting.”

“Sorry to be so long.”

“It's only a day. Forget it.” I heard her yawn elaborately and let.her get it out.

“You're going to get a kick in the twat, honey. Money you can grab, but take that from the slobbies, okay?” I said.

“Come on, Dog...”

“If you really want me to wake you up...”

“Try getting past the doorman.” She hung up with total, flat finality and I went up and got past her doorman. The fifth pick opened the lock and I kicked her out of bed and watched her lie there, eyes wide open for a good five seconds, wondering if she was going to be raped or robbed and when she finally recognized me all she could say was, “What happened to the doorman?”

“I gave him a hundred bucks,” I told her.

“He can't be bought.”

“If he didn't take it I'd of killed him,” I said.

“He's a retired cop. An honest one.”

“So I lied. I said I was your lover ...”

“He believed it?”

“Shit. He said you deserved the likes of me,” I grinned at her. “He thought I was a cop too.”

“He would have asked for your badge.”

“Come on, I showed it to him.”

“Dog ... all that for a piece of ass? You could have had it for free if you wanted.”

“Then...”

“Shut up and get dressed.”

Rose said, “Tell me ...”

“No,” I told her, “Lee doesn't know. Only you know. Amateurs are out and that's for sure.”

“I want my due. Something's on your mind and if I have to go along I want my due.”

“That's old-timey talk, sweetie.”

“So give me my due.”

“Like what?”

“A piece of ass,” she laughed.

“Supposing it hurts?”

“Use some baby oil. It won't hurt. I can control my sphincter muscle.”

“Oh, you dirty girl.”

“But don't you love me?”

“Naturally.”

“So? Don't tell me it's your first time?”

“It isn't.”

“I didn't think so. You probably come equipped with your own lubricant,” she said.

“Not now.”

“At least I did,” she told me.

“So break out the baby oil,” I said. I smirked at her and stepped out of my pants. “Stop watching,” I told her.

“I just wanted to see if you were equipped,” she said.

“Hell, doll, I only want to satisfy you without hurting your little teeny tiny body.”

Her laugh was loud and clear. She flipped the covers off, switched onto her spread legs in such a classic position with her head buried in her folded arm that she damn near forgot what I came for. “Go, man,” she said.

I lit a cigarette and said, “Sorry about that, kid.”

Rose looked around, all expecting to see the weirdo, the incapable, the all talk, but I was big and able and ready to go, only I wanted a smoke first.

“Dog, you're a dirty slob.”

“I could have told you that.”

“Why?”

So at last the lovely whore turned over and let me look at all that naked garishness, big tits tightened into hips and legs that were all so damned luscious, especially with that gorgeous snatch peering it's lonely eye into mine....

I got up and got a hairbrush. There's one hell of a way to talk to a broad when you want to think. So I began brushing her hair.

She talked.

Nice and easy, but there were a few things I had to learn. The dolls overseas were all different. Their wants were specific, every undulation pointing to the specific, but at last here was a pure American whore, specific only in her attitude toward money, and I said, “Oh, you capitalist, you,” just as the hairbrush gave her an orgasm.

“Son of a bitch,” Rose breathed.

“Compliment or criticism?”

“Nobody should know that much about a woman. What will happen to the girl you marry?”

“At least she'll lead a sexy life,” I said.

“Somebody better believe that.”

“Oh, they will.”

“I'll give you references.”

“For a hairbrush?”

“Damn, Dog, if you can do it with a hairbrush, what can you do with the rest of the goodies?”

“Just try me,” I said. “Roll over.”

“You bastard. You know you only wanted to talk to me.”

“I was softening you up.”

“Like I needed it. You're the one who needs softening.”

“How do you feel?”

“Can you give me a little more than the hairbrush?” Rose asked.

I said uh-huh and gave her a little more and when she got her breath back she looked up at me with a terrible smile and said, “Maybe Lee will kill you.”

“He already tried.”

“Really?”

“Certainly. That's why we're friends.”

“You guys are all nuts.”

“That's why we're winners,” I said. “You want to be with us?”

Rose took a long look at me. Very deliberately she licked her forefinger and ran it up through her slit. “Pornographic?”

“Damn,” I said, “you sure know how to build a man.”

And for the first time I knew she was like me. “Who the hell you kidding?” Rose said.

“Not me, that's for sure.”

“Dog ... you ever been shot?”

“Young lady, I went into World War Two at the early age of twenty. I was a flier and my personal history before then belongs only in the unwritten biography, but four years of garbage got me nothing, then four years of civilian life got me shot four times. There's only one way you can see the scars.”

“I was hoping you'd say that. Now let's get laid.”

“Only if you'll tell me what I have to know.”

“You're asking for a lot.”

“Not really that much.”

“Truly, Dog?”

“You know I'm a mean son of a bitch.”

“I know.”

“Still want me?”

“After that last episode ... damn!”

“Okay, roll over.”

“But where away, buddy?”

“Were you in the Army?”

“No.”

“So why the army talk ... or was it navy?”

“Aw, shaddup and just screw.”

“Not without your consent,” I said.

“So pick a hole,” Rose told me.

“Now who's the nut?”

“You, if you don't start screwing somewhere.”

“I guess you did know I had something to do when I came here.”

“Certainly.”

“Why the hell do you keep distracting me?”

“Shut up and keep screwing. Think about it later.”

“You dames are all alike,” I said.

“We are not,” Rose told me. She did what I wanted her to do, rolled over, swore at me and clamped her legs together. “You got a death wish, man?” she asked.

“Naturally,” I said.