"What he doesn't know won't hurt him."
"Yeah," she said, "I guess you're right."
"Life is short, Mabel," I urged her. "Let's grab a little fun while we can."
"I'm all for that," she said. "But now I think we better get back inside, or they'll start thinking we're grabbing a little out here."
We went back inside, and the Barrows finally left about eleven o'clock.
Tania had already gone to bed,, and I helped Marleen clean up the kitchen. I told her what a great dinner it was.
"Thank you," she said, and went upstairs to the master bedroom.
I stayed downstairs, kicked off my shoes, and mixed myself a big brandy and soda. I flopped into an easy chair and reviewed my sales pitch to Mabel Barrow. I figured it was right on target and a done deal.
I expected to feel the usual excitement and sense of triumph I get when I know I've scored, but for some reason I didn't feel those things that night. To tell you the truth, I was a little depressed. Maybe if Mabel had made more objections, I would have enjoyed my victory more.
I always liked selling an insurance policy to a prospect who starts out by saying no and ends up a client saying yes.
But Mabel never said no. With her it was "maybe" from the start, and it doesn't take a dynamite salesman to convert maybe to yes. I'm not saying she was a pushover, but there was no challenge. I think I had caught her at a time in her life when she was more than ready.
Perhaps that was what depressed me. The thought occurred that if it wasn't me, it would have been some other man. You understand? It wasn't Herm Todd she had the hots for, I just happened to be the nearest guy available. If I hadn't made a move on her, she'd have found someone else, I was sure of it.
Once I realized that, I began to wonder about all the other women I had shagged, thinking I had succeeded in selling them a bill of goods, talking them into something they didn't want to do.
Maybe I had the whole thing ass backwards, they were making the conquest, not me, and all their protests were playacting, either to make themselves feel virtuous or to tickle my macho ego.
Those were not pleasant thoughts, I can tell you that.
Because if my fears were true then I had been used by women all these years, played for a fool, treated like a sex object, for God's sake!
I mixed myself another drink.
Listen, I admit no one would ever mistake me for LMARY Poppins. I mean I've done a lot of scurvy things in my life-not because I wanted to but because I had to if I wanted to survive.
Sure, a lot of things I did were illegal, and even when I wasn't breaking any laws, a lot of people would say I was acting in an immoral way. Screw them! I couldn't afford to have morals.
And I happen to know what the Bible says about casting the first stone.
At the same time I was living a sleazy life, there were some things I just wouldn't do, even though they would have made me a nice buck. For instance I never peddled dope. I've never done a woman, although I had plenty of chances, believe me. And the same goes for orgies. As Willie the Weasel would say, it's just not my style.
So I did have standards, even if you probably think them a laugh. To tell you the truth, all my life I wanted to go straight, but I could never manage it.
My thing with Marvin Mcwhortle was about as close as I ever came, but now that had ended and I was back to the sleaze again. It hurt.
You may not believe this, but Town amp; Country was my favorite magazine of all time. I liked to read about people riding to the hounds, going to formal parties, and all that stuff, and I liked to look at the photos of the women who just got hitched. You could tell they were marrying money, which is okay, but some of them weren't as pretty as me and didn't have the bod. But what the hell, life is unfair, everyone knows that.
I'm telling you all this to help explain why I decided to go in on Willie Brevoort's caper. It was the heaviest thing I had ever done, and I knew that if we got busted, we'd all do hard time. But it was a chance, you see-maybe the only chance I'd ever have to get out of the rat race and go straight. Because if it went down like Willie said, we'd all be on easy street.
I talked it over with Laura Gunther and told her how I felt.
"Yeah, kid," she said, "I know where you're coming from. it could be the answer to your dreams, and it could also be the end of the road.
You know that, don't you?"
"Sure I do," I said. "And if I had a better choice, I'd take it. But the only other choice I have is hitting the clubs again or going back to hustling conventions. So I think I'll gamble on Willie. How about you?
" She sighed. "I guess I might as well," she said finally.
"Right now I've got nothing in my future but standing on my feet all day in that shitty shop and boffing Big Bobby Gurk at night, that asshole.
Yeah, I guess I'll play along."
So we gave Willie a call, and he came over to my place and we started planning.
This wasn't going to be a simple job like when you smash a jewelry store window, grab a Rolex, and run. This was a real scenario with a lot of details and tricky timing, and everything had to go just right or we'd all get racked up. So we spent plenty of time discussing possibilities and how we'd handle things that might go wrong.
We didn't get it all figured out at one meeting, of course.
We got together almost every evening, and gradually it all came out smart and tight. The one objection I had was using my place as headquarters.
"It's got to be, Jess," Willie argued. "My condo is too small, and so is Laura's. We need a safe house, and you've got two bedrooms. We can't rent a hotel suite, can we?"
"I don't know," I said doubtfully. "I don't think I can handle it by myself."
"Not to worry, Willie said. "I'll be right here with you until it's over. Okay?"
So I agreed. Talk about your Fatal Errors!
Everything was going along fine, and we were getting to the point where we were ready to set a definite date for the Crime of the Century when Willie showed up at one of our meetings looking worried.
"Something's happening," he said, "and I don't like it. I didn't want to mention it to you ladies because I thought I might be imagining it.
But now I know it's for real. About a week ago I thought I was being tailed. I kept seeing this black Toyota Camry everywhere I went.
Always driven by the same man, a little y who wears wire-rimmed specs.
Finally I decided I gu better check it out, so I jotted down his plate number. One of the members of my private club is a cop, and I slipped him five yards to have it traced. The Camry is registered to a shtarker I've heard about who's got a name so long that no one can pronounce it.
So he's called Teddy O and he works as an enforcer for Tomasino, a Miami shylock. From what I hear, Teddy O. is not a nice man."
"Why would he be following you?" I asked.
It was the first time I ever saw Willie lose his cool, and it scared me.
"Why?" he shouted. "Why? Use your goddamn head! I don't owe Tomasino, so Teddy O. must have come up from Miami on a special job for someone else. And who could that be but Big Bobby Gurk?
All these South Florida heavyweights are buddy-buddy."
"You think Gurk is keeping an eye on you?" Laura said.
"What else?" Willie said. "He thinks the ZAP Project is still alive, and there's a buck to be made. So he puts this Teddy O. on my tail, hoping I'll lead him to the Mcwhortle chemist.
Then Gurk moves in and takes over. I know how that fat slob works." ii So what do we do now, Willie?" I asked worriedly. "Call the whole thing off?"
He looked at me. "Not a chance. I'm just telling you ladies that it's suddenly become a lot hairier, and if you want to cut out, you're entitled. But I'm going to stick with the plan.
Gurk may have the muscle ve got the brain. If I can't out-finagle that stupe but, I might as well go back to pimping. No, I'm not giving up just because a hatchet man is on the scene. if push comes to shove, I'll figure a way to handle Gurk and Teddy O. Now what about you two?"