The doorman tried to slam the door in their faces, but it was too late. The fat cop looked slow, but he had his shoulder through the door while the kid was still trying to decide where to put his hands.
Inside, they pushed their way to the main room where the whores were already hard at work. Hurriedly, the projectionist snapped off the projector and covered it up with a sheet.
The cop studiously pretended it wasn't there, as if he didn't have to walk around it to talk to the man he wanted to see.
They talked in high-speed Spanish for a few minutes while the young cop furtively peeked under the sheet trying to get a good look at what was on the film.
Finally, the old cop stopped talking, sighed in disgust, and said, "Which one?"
Alex pointed to a tall brunette, pretty but starting to flesh out. "Her. Gloria!"
"Come!" The cop tilted his head and the girl followed along with one of the men. They went to her room where the fat detective rummaged in her dresser, turning up in a few minutes a roll of bills, Alex's wallet, empty, and jewelry.
As Alex made the identification, the fat cop said, "Bueno!" and handed it to him in a distracted manner.
He counted out the money Alex said he lost and pocketed the rest of the bills. He and the manager and the girl really started talking. For a few moments the conversation was really confused. Even the young cop looked as if he only caught part of it, and it was his language.
"Look," the cop said. "They say, okay. Was all a big mistake. You get everything back. All okay now, no?"
Alex shook his head.
The cop sighed. "Look mister. We put them in jail, they gonna be out again pretty quick. Then everybody, she is mad. They mad at me. Mad at you." He shrugged, saying silently but eloquently that he, Castella, would also be mad at this crazy American.
"They say, okay. You stay here with the girl. You guest of the house. She do everything you want, get everything you didn't get last night. All free. Okay?"
"Well…"
At this sign of hesitation the manager burst in with another torrent of Spanish.
Castella nodded. "You don't like her, you take your pick of the girls, no?"
"How do I know they'll let me out okay?"
Castella smiled. He knew when he had a deal. "Pedro," he gestured toward the young cop, "he stay downstairs and wait for you, okay?"
"About the two women, Renee and Fran?"
Castella shrugged. "Hombre! This man say they left with the other man when you go upstairs with Gloria. It is big insult, no!"
Castella exited, leaving Alex to figure out who he meant insulted whom.
When they were all gone, Alex turned toward the girl. She was already undressing.
CHAPTER TEN
"Now," Alex said, "I want to hear the truth."
"Que?" The girl paused. She was sliding her bra down her arms. Her breasts were soft and round under it, the nipples large brown caps with nubbins that stuck straight out.
"What happened to the two women I was with?"
She shrugged and dropped the black foundation garment on the dresser. Squirming her hips slightly, she began to run her panties over her legs.
"Stop that!" Alex grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. "You know what I mean. What happened to them, to me?"
"Let go. You hurt me." Gloria tried to twist out of Alex's grasp but he clamped his fingers tighter.
"I'm not playing!"
The girl finally pulled her arm free and hurried to the door. "Go away," she said, turning the knob. "I don't want you here no more."
Alex gave her a pained expression as he stepped to the door. "I guess I'll have to tell that cop to arrest you after all."
Gloria's eyes flicked wider at the thought of jail. It didn't require clairvoyance to see she wasn't liking the idea worth a damn.
Stepping past her, Alex caught the doorknob and started to go out in the hall.
She put her hand over his and said, "Wait!"
"For what?"
"Wait. I tell you." She walked back across the room and sat down hard on the bed. The springs protested, rocking her slightly and making her breasts jiggle enticingly. Taking cigarettes from the table, she lit one and then flopped back on the bed, blowing smoke at the ceiling.
Alex followed her and sat down on the bed. "What will you tell me?"
"What you desire to know." Gloria breathed out and twin jets of bluish smoke squirted out of her nose to join the already stale air in the room. "But you must not tell anyone it is me who says this thing, entiende?"
"I understand."
"It is that pig Manuel. He tell me, keep you in my bed all night. When you wake up, tell you your friends themselves are tired of waiting for you. That they leave. Maybe… how you say, enojado?"
"Angry?"
"Si, that is it. Angry. That is the thing Manuel tell me to do. But you didn't?"
The girl tried to shrug lying down. The movement rippled through her breasts, quivering them like jello. "No."
"Why not?"
She looked at Alex disdainfully. "What good you to me? You sleep all time. So I put you in street."
"After taking my money and my wallet and jewelry."
She shrugged again, with the same phenomenal results as previously.
"Who is this Manuel?"
"Manuel Ramos. He is, how you say, pimp. He gets girls, makes them work for him." She shivered. "He is very mean, hard man."
"How do I find him?"
"Ask the taxista to take you to La Casa de Los Angeles – house of the angels. Maybe Manuel there."
"Thanks." Alex stood to go.
Grabbing him, the girl tried to pull him down on the bed. "Don't go yet. Not enough time. Maybe Manuel find out you here and he come here to kill me, he think maybe I tell you something."
"All right. I'll wait a bit."
The girl squirmed over on the bed to let him sit more comfortable. "What you do when you find Manuel?"
"What I can!"
"Bad?"
"Maybe."
"Good." The girl blew a smoke ring into the air. "This Manuel, he is no good!"
"How do you know?"
The girl rolled over on her stomach and pulled her panties down over the soft globes of her buttocks. Each cheek was dappled with round, white spots that stood out against the darker olive of her skin.
"My God! What caused that?"
"Manuel," the girl said simply. "He take cigarillo, you know, and 'ssst'!"
Wonderingly Alex reached down to touch the smooth, brown flank and run his fingertips over the white spots. The girl shivered under the cool touch of his fingertips but Alex couldn't feel any scar tissue.
"They aren't new," he said.
"No," Gloria agreed. "This is from a long time ago, when Manuel owned me. He was very cruel."
Alex continued to run his hand over the girl's marred butt, thinking of Renee in the Mexican's hands. "Owned?"
"Si! Manuel, he is a dealer in putas. He buys them, sells them. Breaks them not to run away. He is very clever."
Alex stopped moving his hand and leaned over the girl. "What will he do with my friends?"
"Don't stop. That feels so good." The girl lay with her cheek on her hands and wiggled her butt. "Quien sabe what he will do? Maybe he sell them in some other country."
Leaning his weight onto his hands as his fingers dug deep into her flesh, massaging her, Alex decided the girl was exaggerating. This was the twentieth century, after all. And there was no way in the world to keep a slave from running away when freedom was just around the corner.
Something wetted Alex's finger and the girl sighed. Unconsciously his hand had slid between the girl's thighs and manipulated the gently contracting cunt that lay open and waiting. It was her juice that flowed onto him.
The feel of her soft twat awakened the sex urge in Alex. Awkwardly he continued massaging her ass, working his fingers in her slot as he struggled out of his own clothes. The girl just lay flopped on her face, sighing blissfully as his hands did their work.