Chapter 13

Thirty minutes later I stepped out onto the Fourteenth Street corridor. If the city council wanted to be civic minded they’d give the corridor to the developers and have them build a four star brothel at one end. Lust, like rage, is ineradicable. You don’t “clean up” combat zones, you relocate them. Seventy-five years ago a nationwide epidemic of righteousness closed all the houses of ill repute and dumped the girls out on the streets. The net result was the creation of a new urban predator: the pimp.

The corridor was warming up. The movie houses and bookstores had all plugged in their blinking neon grins. You can tell the players and their games by how they use their eyes. The hookers are trolling for the big trick. Their eyes brighten when a car slows down and then dim with sullen anger as it passes. Those just passing through look straight ahead or at their shoes. The voyeurs’ eyes dart left and right, up and down but never meet another’s. Look but don’t touch. The “doers’” eyes scan, then lock on and track like fear-seeking missiles. Once on target they follow the mark, cut it from the herd and do him or her in an alley, hallway or parking lot.

Connections here are brief and precise. Girls and boys get into cars, out of cars, up doorways, down stairs, into alleys, on their knees, off their backs trying to make their quotas. Every now and then a pimpmobile would cruise by. The man checking on his employees. Pulling over to let one out and another one in. I hadn’t seen a glitzed-up Eldorado yet. I’d seen damn few white pimps at all. I wandered through this scene looking for a long-haired Oriental girl named Fancy, a gorilla pimp named Eldorado Jack and a cop known as Hoss the Boss.

Eventually, I found Horace “Hoss the Boss” Wisinski. He was lounging against a car, chatting up a couple of pros. His leather sap gloves were in his belt, pinned there by his belly, and his hat was on backwards like a U-boat commander’s. A chili dog with a full load of onions sank down his throat with all hands lost. I walked up to the Hoss. He put his hand on his chest, made an O with his mouth and let out a belch that would register on the radar over at National.

“Nice, Hoss. A class act.”

He checked for any stragglers waiting to escape. Satisfied that he had purged himself, he leaned back against the car and turned to address me. His breath was a defoliant.

I waved at the invisible assailant. “What is this, ADW: breath?” I said.

He chuckled. “Keeps the streets clean. Nobody gets in my face. Want some?” He fished out a big wad of waxed paper from his pants pocket, unwrapped it and showed me a huge clove of garlic.

“I’ll pass.”

“Brenda roasts ’em and keeps ’em in olive oil for me. Hell of a girl.” Brenda was his wife.

“I see you got a stripe back, Hoss.”

“Yeah, they give ’em to me with Velcro now. Makes it easier to take ’em back. But you ain’t here to do a documentary on my career. What brings you to this sewer?” As he asked that he lifted himself off the car and started his patrol.

“I’m looked for an Oriental hooker. Calls herself Fancy. Short, long—”

“Hair down to her butt. Real name Francine Ky, DOB 7-14-67. Three priors, no fixed address. Her pimp is Eldorado Jack.”

“When did you get the microchip installed, Horace?”

“Just good police work, Hags. Got my own mug books. Read ’em every day. Pays to do your homework. Ounce of prevention and all that shit.”

“Have you seen Ms. Ky recently?”

“Nope. Her pimp’ll show up pretty soon. She’ll check in. You find Jack, you’l find her. This business or pleasure? I hear she’s got a mixmaster for an ass.”

“Strictly business. Tell me about Eldorado Jack.”

“Ardis Parmenter, a.k.a. Eldorado Jack, a.k.a. who cares. Certifiable. Crazy about Asian chicks. A gorilla pimp, has them all terrorized. Lots of assault charges but they never get pressed. Brass ’nads, very macho boy. High profile in this town for a white pimp. Loves his little red wagon more than life itself. You want his priors and all that shit?”

“No. Where does he hang out?”

“He parks out front of that shitkicker bar, The Do-Si-Do, and holds court there.”

“Thanks, Hoss.”

“One thing, Hags.”

“Yeah?” I turned back.

“You cross that boy and you better bury him. He’s crazy and he’ll keep coming back like crabs on a working girl. You hear me?”

“I hear you, Horace. Hang loose, my man.” As I waved to him I saw his eyes flick across the street. A silver gray Mercedes with Maryland tags was cruising slowly up the street. A hooker was running up the street, looking back over her shoulder. The Mercedes stopped and two guys jumped out of the car, grabbed the girl by the arms and stuffed her into the car. Inside they started punching the hell out of her.

Horace began to pull on his gloves. “See you around, Hags. Duty calls.” Horace flipped his hat around to the front and headed across the street. I watched his odd pigeon-toed gait, the arm and leg on each side moving together.

Horace ripped open the car door and started tossing bodies out. First the two guys, then the hooker. He rapped one guy with his nightstick, then grabbed the other two by their throats, pulled them up close to his face and bellowed, “Shut the fuck up, alla ya. You, outta the car, now.” A third guy came out of the car. I walked across the street to see how this would turn out.

“Up against the wall, assholes, spread ’em and keep your mouths shut.” That done, he quickly patted the four of them down. None of the boys looked old enough to vote. “What’s going on here?” Horace asked.

One of the boys stepped away from the wall. “This, this …” he sputtered “woman, took our money and didn’t do, uh, deliver, what we’d, uh … bought. We were just trying to get our money back.”

Horace turned to the girl. “Officer, I don’t know what they are talking about, honestly.” she said.

The kid tried to take a swipe at her. “You whore. You took a hundred dollars of ours and you only did.…”

The hooker pursed her lips and made kissing noises. The kid glared at Horace. “What are you going to do about this, officer? I want your badge number. My father’s a lawyer. If you don’t do something about this, we’ll report you for dereliction of duty.”

Horace pulled the kid up close and exhaled slowly. I winced. “I don’t give a fuck if your old man’s almighty God himself. What I’m gonna do, you snot-nosed little shit, is run your ass in on assault charges, abduction with intent to defile and soliciting. That’s for starters. Try to explain that to poppa.” At that, the hooker slid along the wall, kicked off her high heels and ran blindly across the street, barely avoiding being hit by a cherry red Caddy. Within seconds she was lost in the crowd.

“Look what you did …” the kid whined.

“No, you look what you did. You came down here to rent a stranger’s mouth. You probably got what you paid for. Now go home. Clear offa my streets. Hopefully, all you got here was a good lesson.” The three kids had regrouped, sullenly hanging their heads. “And anyway, for your information that girl’s name is Robert.” Two of the boys started snickering and pointing their fingers at Motormouth. He turned gray, lurched away and threw up on the wall of an X-rated movie house. Horace shook his head.

The three kids climbed back into their car and sped away. “Yuppie puppies. What a breed. Ankle biters, all of ’em,” Horace said, then listened to his radio for a second. “Party time down the street. Gotta roll, Hags.” I went back across the street in search of the red Cadillac.

Eldorado Jack was sitting in the backseat of his car. He had a woman on each side, one hand on a thigh, a drink in the other. Neither one was Fancy. Jack and the girls slid out of the car. He kissed his companions, patted their rumps and sent them back to work. I’d turned away from him and was staring at a window display of marital aids. In the window’s reflection I took an inventory of Mr. Eldorado Jack Parmenter. Taller than me, rangy, long neck, big Adam’s apple, sharp features, slicked back black hair, a manic light in the eyes. He had on a fortune in gold rings and chains. A flowered silk shirt was open to his navel. Snow in your veins will keep you warm these chilly nights. Lime green silk suit over purple boots, probably made from the hide of some endangered species. I watched him move around a bit. His clothes fit like a second skin and his crotch only lacked for a neon arrow. The toothpick would be in his boot or more likely under his arm.

I had company. A little Oriental girl had entwined her arm in mine. Close but no cigar. “What’cha looking for, honey?” She nodded her head at the window.

“Nothing.”

“I can do you better, honey. Make you real happy.” She stopped popping her gum and smiled. There wasn’t enough juice in it to brighten a penlight.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Toy. What’s yours?” My toy was emaciated. Another teenybopper vein popper on the oblivion express.

“How about Joe? You know a girl named Fancy?”

My friend dropped my arm. “No.”

I reached out for her. “She made me real happy. I want to see her again. Tell you what. You tell me where she is, I’ll introduce you to a friend of mine—Mr. Grant.” They learn to put a name to faces real fast. The streetwalker I.Q. test: name the presidents on American bills from one to a hundred. You have ten seconds, begin now.

She looked at Jack for an instant. He was slinging shit with another “man of leisure.” “So, Jack,” he said, “you know why a whore’s like a cheap watch?” His eyes were boring into the other guy. Finger popping, he could barely wait to get to the punch line. Finally, he rapped his doltish companion in the chest. “They take a lickin’ and keep on trickin’.” I thought Jack would have a stroke he was so convulsed by his own wit.

“C’mon tell me. I’m no trouble.” I took her by the arm and walked down the street with her. My other hand I slipped inside my jacket and showed her the fifty. She was as desperate as a hamster in its wheel. I wasn’t real thrilled at lining Jack’s pockets, but it would be the easiest fifty she’d make tonight. She might make quota and dodge a beating. I wasn’t long on rescue fantasies. Sad but true, people do what they want to do. We can bring each other down but you can only lift yourself up.

“Yeah. I know Fancy. She’s in deep trouble. Jack heard she’s thinking of going outlaw on him. He’s real angry.”

“Is she hiding somewhere?”

“I don’t know. Jack said he’d forgive her and not hurt her if she came out tonight. She has to bring him an offering. You know, a gift. Something for his car. He’s waiting to see if she shows up.”

“All right. Here.” I gave her the bill and figured I’d sit on Mr. Eldorado Jack Parmenter like a buzzard and see what happened.

If you stand still on these streets people figure you’ve opened up a shop and they browse. A couple of leather boys sized me up. I moved my head no, like a pitcher shaking off a signal. They moved on. I wanted to be close enough to Jack to intercept this girl if she showed up, but not right in his lap. Ten minutes later I saw her. She was hurrying down the street with a package clutched to her chest. Jack hadn’t seen her yet. I stepped out of the doorway I’d taken root in and walked right into her. She caromed off me and dropped her box. I picked it up. She was frantic to get it back.

“Give me that, man, it’s mine. Please.”

“No problem. I just want to talk with you for a second. Then you can be on your way.”

“No way, man.”

“Then I’ll hold onto this, darling.” She looked down the street to where Jack was. She was terror stricken. “Don’t be afraid of Jack. If you don’t want to talk to him or work for him, I’ll help you. Just give me a minute. I just want to ask you one question. I’ll pay you for your time, top dollar.”

“Look man, I can’t. If Jack sees me even talking to you, he’ll think I’m cheating on him or trying to leave. He’ll hurt me. You don’t know him. He’ll find me. Please give me my box. Please.” I thought about holding on to the package and then feeding it to Jack. Instead I slipped out one of my cards and gave it to her. “This is my name and number. When you get a minute, call me. I just want to ask you a question. There’s money in it and it won’t get you in trouble. If you want to leave Jack, call me. I’ll help you get out.” She took the card and slipped it into her purse. I gave her the box. Jack pushed through a strolling couple, grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

“What you doing’? This your new man?” He turned toward me and undid the one button on his jacket.

I marked him as right-handed. I backed away, palms up. “Hey, easy. This lady just dropped her package. I picked it up and gave it back to her.” Over Jack’s shoulder I watched Fancy’s eyes. She pulled on his arm.

“Jackie. Baby. Please. Fancy’s back. Let me show you what I got, baby. Come on.” She was climbing all over him, cooing, running her fingers through his hair. I backed off even further. Eldorado Jack watched me disappear into the crowd with the intensity of a man pinning a butterfly to a board. “Another time, my man. Another time.” I muttered to myself. I backed into an immovable object and whirled.

“Easy, Hags. Easy. You’re very tense, very tense.” Hoss chuckled. “Saw that little display of discretion back there. What they call the better part of valor, eh? Be patient. This guy’s got a real knack for making enemies. You’ll get a piece of him. Try not to do it on my streets, okay? I’m sworn to uphold the law and I do like peace and quiet.”

“Wouldn’t think of it, Hoss. Give my regards to Brenda.” I’d had it with the circus. I found my car and left.