Chapter Twenty-Nine

On the streets, unrequited love and death go together almost as often as in Shakespeare

—Scott Turow

The next morning after coffee, Caitlin called Von.

“Caitlin, I thought about you all night. Did you like the diamonds?”

“Yes, Von. You knew I would, but we have to talk. Can I come by for a moment?”

“Certainly. I’d love to see you.”

She wrote down his room number and told him she’d be right over. She returned the diamonds to their velvet case and stuck them in her purse. She coveted the diamonds, but she knew the strings attached were strong and reached all the way back to Africa. Accepting the diamonds would indicate Von saw her as a commodity, as someone for sale, and if she kept them, he would be right.

When she arrived at his hotel, she asked the clerk to ring Von’s room and tell him she had arrived.

The clerk said, “You must be Caitlin Johnson?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Vermeer is expecting you. He called the desk a moment ago, and asked that you come to his room, number 268.”

“Thank you very much.”

There was a Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob of Von’s room. She rapped on the door noticing her knuckles were specked with red paint. Von opened the door almost with a bow, and Caitlin stepped inside. The room was a large suite, and an elaborately table set for two stood next to another table which was loaded with Sterno-warmed pans of pastries, eggs, bacon, potatoes, and gravy.

“Oh, Von,” she said. “You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble. We could have met in the hotel restaurant.”

“This is more intimate, don’t you think? Would you like coffee first?”

“Please, but no breakfast. I really have to be on my way.”

“Surely you aren’t in that much of a hurry.” Von poured their coffee and placed them at the table with place settings, and ignoring her refusal of breakfast, prepared each of them a plate. She sat down and sipped the coffee, trying to dredge up the right words to tell him what was on her mind. In spite of herself, she picked up a fork and began eating.

“How do you like my room?”

“First class, but then, I can’t picture you settling for anything else.”

“The bed is wonderful, but it’s too large and comfortable for only one to enjoy.”

Caitlin dropped her fork. Hunter had told her that when a person dropped a fork at the table, it predicted something, but she couldn’t remember what it was.

She bent over to pick up the fork, but Von said, “I’ll get it.” He walked slowly around the table and knelt down next to her. “So, you liked the diamonds?” He set the dropped fork on an empty saucer, unwrapped another set of silverware, and carefully wiped the fork with a cloth napkin before setting it next to her plate.

“I did Von, and that was one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I can’t accept them.” She dug in her purse for the jewelry cases, and then slid them toward him.

“Why?” Von placed his hands on her shoulders and kneaded them with his strong fingers.

“Because it would give you the wrong message about me.”

“Caitlin, I can’t give you up. I love you. In Africa—”

“In Africa I was lonely and vulnerable. You’re a good man, Von, handsome and very attractive, but I don’t love you. Hunter and I are going to repair things. I think the year apart helped both of us. I want you to stop calling me, Von. Don’t write, and please don’t surprise me with expensive gifts. Listen to me. I won’t meet you anymore for lunch or drinks or for any reason. We had a good time together in Africa, so let’s just end things on a pleasant note.”

“You will change your mind,” Von said. He stepped back to his chair and sat down.

“No, I won’t. Please make arrangements to remove your artifacts from my gallery. I thank you for your generosity, but it would be best for you to take them. As soon as possible. Goodbye, Von.”

Caitlin stood and walked out the door. She made sure she didn’t look back.

****

Von, Biko, and Rilke waited in the BMW outside the Backdoor Lounge and watched the crowd entering the bar.

Von stepped out of the car and spoke into the open window. “After I talk to the girl, I’ll be back.”

Once inside, Von made his way through the crowd. Veronica, the Waffle House waitress who claimed Hunter as her boyfriend, sat at the bar with the other barflies. She wore shorts and a red tube-top, flirting with a man next to her who didn’t appear interested. As far as Von could tell, Hunter avoided even looking at her.

The cowboy sitting with her joined friends at another table, and Von moved behind Veronica just as the bartender brought her a drink. As Veronica dug into her purse, Von pitched a twenty onto the bar. “I’m buying the lady’s drinks tonight. And you can bring me a double whiskey—no water.”

The girl at the bar turned around and said, “Why, you did make it! And thanks for the drink. This is my friend, Von,” she said to the bartender.

The girl tending the bar slung a rag on her shoulder and said, “Okay.” She yelled out, “Bobby! Wake that man at the back table and get him outside. His cab should be here by now.”

“Can I sit here?” Von motioned to the empty stool next to her.

Veronica leaned her face on one hand as if depressed. “Sure. I could use some company. Hunter isn’t paying me much attention.”

“It’s his loss.” Von sat down. “So, you really do like the musician?”

“Yeah, I like him, but I understand. I mean, he is working. But I’m really crazy about him. He’s so cute and he sings so goddamn good. But then, you’re cute too.”

“Tell me again. Tell me honestly this time. How well do you know this Hunter?”

“Well, we just met this past week after he came to the Waffle House. I had seen him before, but it was about two years ago, and I don’t think he even noticed me then. He was with some girl that runs an art gallery on Trenton Street. I love this accent of yours.” She leaned on her elbow. “I think I could listen to it all night long.”

“All night sounds interesting. And I do like to talk.”

“I’ve always wanted to see Africa, ever since I saw that movie with Meryl Streep in it. I bet it’s beautiful there.”

No, bitch, I won’t offer to take you to Africa. There is no way a tramp like you could compare to my Caitlin. “Yes, sometimes, Africa’s very nice. Sometimes the movies portray the continent very realistically. Sometimes, they do not.” He lit a cigarette and laid the package on the counter.

“I’ve never seen cigarettes like those,” she said. “Can I have one?”

“Of course. Excellent tobacco blend.” When she picked one out, he flipped open his lighter and lit it. “I would like your help tonight.”

“I bet you would.”

Von couldn’t believe she actually batted her eyes. He laid down a hundred-dollar bill. “I think you could drink a while on this. Are you interested?”

“Depends on what you have in mind.” She covered the bill with her hand and slipped it off the bar and into her purse. “But sure, I’m interested. What do you want me to do?”

“As it turns out, your Hunter and I have a mutual friend, and my friend wanted me to find Hunter and discuss some business. I want you to persuade him to go outside on his next break and occupy him till I get there so we can talk privately, then you can come back inside. That’s all. But it’s imperative you get him alone. I’ll come around from the back and meet you.”

“Why don’t you just walk up there, introduce yourself, and talk to him?”

“You see, he doesn’t know me. He arranged our meeting through a friend who wanted me to get him some, you know…” Von imitated smoking a joint. “You know how these musicians like their pot. So, this is not the kind of business I can prudently discuss in front of others. How about it? If you don’t want to, I’ll understand.”

“I don’t get it. A hundred bucks just so you can meet Hunter? I can call him over next break and introduce you. No one would hear what you were talking about.”

“No, I want him outside. Besides, this deal is bigger than most I do.”

She laughed and nodded. “Oh, I see. Sure. I’ll be glad to help him kill a few brain cells. You have some for me too?”

“Oh yes, I’ve got something for you. But you can’t tell him I gave it to you, or tell him my name, or say anything else about me. It is important that I remain anonymous.”

“Okay. But what do I do until you get there?”

Von cringed inwardly. He found the stupidity of this girl annoying. He stretched the top of her tube top out a little, peeked down it, and allowed the elastic to pop back. “I think a good-looking woman like you can think of something to get his attention. Just make him feel good enough so he won’t go back inside for a few minutes. Think you can handle that?”

“Oh yeah. And enjoy it, too. Maybe I’ll get lucky. I think he’d enjoy a quickie.”

“Now you’re talking.” Von signaled the waitress. “We’d like to buy the musician a drink. What does he prefer?”

“Scotch and water,” Veronica said. “I’ve never seen him drink anything else.”

“I’ve never understood why someone would want to ruin the taste of a good Scotch by adding water.” He signaled the barmaid to come over. “Take a Scotch and water to the musician for us please and tell him that is from this beautiful woman here.” As the waitress prepared Hunter’s drink, Von put his arm around Veronica. “A man likes a woman who buys him drinks. The act suggests certain things. It also makes it harder to deny a simple request, especially one that is in the interest of his pleasure. As I mentioned, he also has a weakness for this.” He slipped a joint into her hand. “Ask him to take a break and tell him you have something outside to give him. He won’t say no.”

“You seem to know a lot about people.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

****

The waitress carried a Scotch and Veronica’s note to Hunter. “It’s from that girl at the bar.”

Hunter scanned the bar and saw the waitress from the Waffle House smiling at him. One of her hands suggestively fingered the rim of her tube top. With the other, she imitated someone smoking a joint. Hunter toasted her and drained the glass. He sang “Steam Roller” and then said, “Folks, it’s time for a short break.” The jukebox came on and he made his way toward Veronica, stopping along the way at a couple of tables to thank them for their tips and coming to hear him.

He sat down next to her. “Thanks for the drink, Veronica,” he said. “I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you sooner, but I’ve got a lot on my mind and I wasn’t sure if you were with anyone else or not.”

“You’re welcome. God, your music is so good! And as far as meeting someone, I came here hoping I could see you. Hey, I was just about to go outside and uh…” She showed him the joint cupped in her hand. “Want to share?”

“Sure.”

Jed, the Backdoor’s owner walked over to them. “Hunter, you ready to go outside?”

“Yeah. Veronica’s coming too.”

Veronica leaned over and nibbled on Hunter’s ear. “Actually, I’d rather he not come. After we blow this joint, I wanted to blow you.”

“Jed, let’s catch each other next break. I’ve got to have a private talk with Veronica here.”

“Sure, no problem.” Jed grinned. “You two have a nice talk.”

Hunter followed the girl out the bar’s side door. After they smoked, she set her beer on the ground, put her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I knew you would be a good kisser.” She slipped down her tube top. “As promised.”

Hunter removed her arms from his neck and gently pushed her away. “Sorry, but I can’t do that. I’m seeing someone. But let’s light that joint. We better hurry up. Jed will come out here looking for me in a minute.”

She looked toward the parking lot.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing. I thought we had an audience for a moment.”

Hunter heard footsteps in the gravel. Hunter glanced over his shoulder at three men silhouettes. A camera clicked and there was a bright flash.

A voice he didn’t recognize said, “Okay, Veronica, you’ve earned your money, you can leave now.”

“Who the hell are you?” Hunter said. “Paid you for what, Veronica?”

She pulled up her top. “He said he knew a friend of yours. I’ll see you later, Hunter.”

After she went inside, one of the men shut the side door, and the three circled him. Hunter knew the men had not come to book a gig.

“Hunter,” Von said, “we have business to discuss. You’re causing me some very real distress.”

“How’s that?” Hunter said. “I don’t recollect holding up a mirror.”

“Funny man. My name is Von. I believe you are interested in Caitlin. Well, as it turns out, I am too. And that means that you’re going to quit seeing her.”

“Oh, so you are Von. Mr. Lovenote himself. Caitlin told me all about you. You’re as ugly as she said, and twice as ugly as I thought you would be. And your friends are just as bad. I tell you what—you can go straight to hell.”

The black man hooked a punch into his belly. “Watch your mouth, mon.”

Hunter doubled over as the pancake size fist dug into his gut. A black vice clamped onto his throat and squeaking sounds came from Hunter’s mouth.

“I wouldn’t irritate Biko,” Von said. “Once, he cut off a man’s head, and then ate his heart and liver. I could kill you now, and the most the paper would say is that a second-rate musician died after a fight at a local dive with unknown assailants. Tomorrow, you will say goodbye to Caitlin, pack your bags and leave town, or by God I’ll find you again, and I promise the pain will be much worse. And not only for you, but for Caitlin’s black boy and her friends. Caitlin is no longer going to be a part of your life.”

Hunter felt like his insides were paralyzed. He had never been hit that hard before. He couldn’t breathe and the huge hand was cutting off circulation and he knew he was seconds away from passing out.

“Now just to emphasize the importance of your decision…”

Hunter felt jolts of pain at first, but then he felt nothing, but he knew the fists and boots and the blackjack were battering his face and body, and he felt a rib snap, then another, then he lost consciousness.

****

When Hunter was twenty minutes late for his next set, Jed went out the backdoor to look for him. Hunter’s truck was still there, but the musician was nowhere in sight. He circled around the building and found the bloodied, beaten Hunter on the ground.

“Shit, goddamn it to hell!” he said, and then went inside to call the sheriff’s department and an ambulance. He told one of his bouncers to go outside and watch over Hunter until help could arrive. Jed entertained the crowd inside with a few karaoke songs. He cursed Hunter for messing up another gig. He wondered what Hunter had done this time.