"Whatever you say, boss," Slackjaws said disheartedly.
"Listen, Jay," said Steve Paul, "why not let Slackjaws have a little go at her first? She'll never be able to take that dog's dick if she's not warmed up."
"Yeah," said Slackjaws. "Please."
"No, God damn it," said Snyder. "You hear me; I don't want you to touch her. She'll be able to handle the dog. You're not going to touch her, Slackjaws, have you got that?"
"OK," Slackjaws said, disgruntled. Then he brightened a little. "Could I just make her suck me off?" he pleaded.
"Jay," said Steve Paul, "why not? She could give Slackjaws a hum job and then the dog." Ingenious forms of sodomy were Steve Paul's specialty. "Then after she got through sucking Slackjaws off, the dog could fuck her. That'd make it complete – she'd never cross you again."
Snyder considered this for a moment, looking at his two henchmen, both of whom were obviously eager to punish this girl as imaginatively as possible. "OK," he said finally. "Slackjaws, you can make her blow you. But that's all, you understand? Nothing more. I don't want your prick tearing her apart; the dog'll be bad enough."
"Right," said Slackjaws. "I got it. Just a little hum job, nothing else. I got it, boss." He grinned, pleased that Snyder had allowed him this favor. He got up, turned toward the door. "I'm going over to the kennel right now," he said.
"Hold it," said Jay. "There's more."
"More?" said Slackjaws, puzzled again.
"More," said Snyder. "Another job, to be done as soon as you finish with Judy Burton. We've got a cop on our tail."
Great, thought Slackjaws – his two favorite jobs, both in one day, a screwing and a beating.
Snyder read his mind. "I don't want you to beat this guy up," he said. "That'll just bring the whole God damned force down on our necks. What I want you to do is teach him a lesson, a very private, very personal lesson."
"What do you want me to do, boss?"
"I'm not sure yet." He turned to Steve Paul. "Steve," he said, "you're good at this sort of thing. Got any suggestions?"
Paul thought for a moment, then smiled. "Yeah," he said, "I've got a fine idea. Remember I told you about his wife, the prude?"
"Mm-hmm," said Snyder.
"Well let's de-prude her."
For the first time in his life, Slackjaws caught on immediately. "Yeah," he said. "We can give her fly, something like that, really turn her on and then fuck the shit out of her."
"That's a good idea," Steve Paul said. "And even better, we can bring her snooping husband in to watch, call him on the phone while we're fucking her and grab him when he comes back to the house."
"Good," said Snyder softly. "Very, very good. In fact it's so good that I think I'll come along and have a look myself." He grinned, imagining the look on Kramer's face as he saw his supposedly frigid wife crazy with sex, taking on two or three men at the same time. "No," he said, "I don't think we're going to have any more trouble with that cop."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tim Huntley sat back against one of Judy's big overstuffed pillows, thumbed absently through the morning paper. Never any news worth reading, he thought, always the same old crap: wars and bombings and riots and murders. It seemed that his whole life had consisted of bad news and violence; he didn't need to know about the greater violence going on in the world at large. He had never been happy, he thought, never in his life until now, until he met Judy.
Judy, he thought, yawning and stretching, laying back against the soft pillow. His body was tired, pleasantly tired – they had made love practically all night, falling asleep only in the last few minutes before dawn, when they were completely exhausted, completely filled with one another. They had slept then, for a few hours, locked in one another's arms, then had awakened and made love yet again. Now Judy had gone off to the store, to buy eggs for their late breakfast, and Tim had nothing to do but relax and contemplate their new love.
What a woman she was! Tim smiled as he thought back over the course of the previous evening, remembering the greasy barbecued beef at the Taco Nito, his depression and feeling of hopelessness. It had all changed so suddenly, from the first moment he had seen Judy's face in that bar. He smiled as he recalled the conversation that had started at the Gay Paree and then continued in her apartment, felt his prick stir to life at the recollection of their fiery lovemaking. Yes, he thought, I've finally found it, finally found the woman who can make me happy, and now that I've found her you bet your sweet ass I'm going to enjoy her.
Tim heard footsteps sound in the hall, the clicking of the doorknob as the door opened. "Hi, baby," he called out.
"Hi yourself," said a deep masculine voice.
Tim turned his head sharply to see Steve Paul and Slackjaws standing over him, grinning. Jay's men. He had forgotten almost entirely about Jay, forgotten that he and Judy still worked for him – the gangster had seemed so far away last night. Fear rose in his throat as he looked at these two grinning hoods, the one smooth and polished, the other massive and brutal-looking. Judy had disobeyed Snyder's orders, he remembered, had turned down her boss' friend in order to spend the evening with Tim. Were these men here for revenge?
"What do you guys want?" he said, his voice trembling.
"Nothing much," said Steve Paul. "We just want to have a little talk with your girl friend, see what she thinks of our new pet. Mr. Nelson," he said, turning to the muscleman, "why don't you call for Ambush?"
Slackjaws let out a whistle, and the biggest dog Tim ever seen came bounding through the door. He looked like the dogs you see in cartoons, wading through the snow with little barrels of wine tied around their necks. Tim backed away as the dog came toward him.
"It's all right, Timmy-boy," said Steve. "He's perfectly friendly. See?" The gangster began scratching the dog's head, and the dog responded by rolling over on his back, his legs in the air, his huge tongue lolling on the carpet. "Quite a tongue," grinned Steve. "Don't you think?"
Tim nodded, crept cautiously over to the dog, began to rub his stomach. The immense animal lay perfectly still except for the steady swishing of his tail, submitting himself to Tim's touch. Well, thought Tim, the dog seems friendly enough; I guess there's no harm here.
"Listen, Timmy-boy," said Steve ingratiatingly, "we'd sort of like to talk to Judy alone, you know how it is. Anyhow, Jay wants to talk with you, give you some friendly advice."
Tim's eyes widened with fear. What did Jay want with him? What did Paul mean, "friendly advice"? Was he going to be fired for being with Judy; fired, or something even worse? And what were they going to do to her? He knew the dog had something to do with it, but he couldn't imagine exactly what; surely they were not here as dog-lovers.
"Does Jay want to see me right now?" Tim said.
"Right now," said Paul; his voice turning hard. "Immediately."
"OK," Tim said, standing up. "I'm on my way."
"Good boy. You know Jay doesn't like to be kept waiting. Oh, and Timmy," he called as Tim started out the door, "do me a favor and tell Jay you ran into us, will you?"
"Sure, Mr. Paul," said Tim. He closed the door behind him and walked down the hallway, making as much noise as he could. When he reached the end of the hallway he took off his shoes, tiptoed back to the door of Judy's apartment. He put his ear to the door, straining to hear the voices inside.
"… forget the gun," Steve Paul was saying. "That kid's gone. He's not dumb enough to come back and try and give us trouble. He's just a little errand boy – did you see how he jumped when I mentioned Jay's name?"