Silence.
Decker’s head was awhirl with options. “She’s fifteen, Donatti.”
“I know that.” He smiled. “That’s why you can’t tell anyone. I could go to prison. Having been in prison, I know that I don’t like it. It’s getting late-”
“You have other girls?”
Donatti stared at him. “You’re asking a lot of questions, Decker. The answers may put you in conflict. That won’t do either of us any good.”
“How many girls do you have, Donatti?”
Chris didn’t answer.
Decker needed Donatti’s trust to get information. He made a calculated choice. “It stays between you and me, I swear.”
Donatti sat back down and poured himself another drink. “Twenty at the moment. If I wanted, I could have a hundred. Most of them are sixteen plus, but I have a few who are younger.”
“Boys?”
“Yeah, I got some faggots, too. Like the birdies you saw helping me out. Those two were over eighteen, but not when I first met them. No straight boys: I used to take them in… nothing but problems. They’d pester the girls and get into dogfights with me over the alpha spot. You can imagine who won out. Pains in the ass-all of them.”
“You pimp them.”
Donatti looked up at the ceiling. “Pimp is a very loaded word, Decker. I do them favors. In return, they do me favors. Matter of fact, they’re so grateful to me that they can’t wait to do me favors. The way I look at it, I’m the final railway stop, a last-ditch effort to save their asses from the real cold characters. Sometimes I even buy them from the bad boys if they look good enough. I have places where I let them dry out. I give them food, a roof over their heads, clothes on their backs, and drugs if they need it. About twenty-five percent leave after a few days, another twenty-five leave after a week. Usually, if they stay more than two weeks, I’ve got ’em hooked.”
“Hooked?”
“No, not on drugs… on me. I’ve got them convinced that they can’t survive without my protection.” Donatti spoke patiently. “I’m practical, Decker. I don’t overwork the racehorse. The last thing I want is for them to be wasted sexually. I want them fresh and sassy-looking. A healthy-looking young nasty girl spreading her legs is a turn-on. A sexually abused waif cowering in the corner isn’t.”
“You use them for your magazine.”
“That’s the whole purpose, Decker. To get young pussy for my various enterprises. But to do that, I first gotta get them to eighteen. Ideally, I’d like to keep them without having to farm out their services, but right now I have a cash-flow problem because I’m on my own. See, with the Family, if you want something, there’s always money, but no savings plan. When Joey ran out, he simply took what he needed from whoever had it. Me? I’m looking for the long term.”
“Lots of adult magazines in the racks, Donatti.”
“Not to mention the videos and the interactive displays on the Internet. Which is why I’m going for the niche market. Not the hipsters, Decker, like in GQ or Esquire. Or the losers who gawk at silicone boobs in Playboy or Penthouse. Can you-as an older married straight male-relate to any of that shit?”
“I don’t buy those magazines, Donatti.”
“Because they don’t talk to you, Lieutenant. Who do I talk to? Committed married men in complacent but dull marriages. Those who don’t want to throw away everything by having a sleazy affair, but their sex lives have gone to seed. They’re a beleaguered lot. Maybe not in your case, Decker, but lots of middle-class guys can use a little empowering. Having been trapped in a hideous marriage for three and a half years, I know what I’m doing. I know all about the Internet and the Web pages and the self-directed on-line porno sites-I’ve got plans for those, too-but in the end, it’s inconvenient to take a laptop into the can to whack off. The wife might suspect something.”
Decker looked away and shook his head. “You’ve done some marketing research, Chris?”
“We’re living in sophisticated times. I’m in the experimental stage right now, from the advice columns to impregnating the pages with the right aromas. There is a load of money to be made doing young meat legally. By the time I reach thirty, I want to own half of Harlem. So yeah, my girls do me favors, but I’m not ruthless. And that’s the God’s honest truth because if I wanted to, I could work my bitches day in and day out, twenty-four/seven. After September eleventh, more than a few New Yorkers had midlife crises: guys who saw those motherfuckers crash into the WTC and felt that the end was at hand. But they survived along with their cocks, and getting pussy, especially fresh young twat, placed high on the to-do list.”
“Funny, Donatti,” Decker snarled. “I saw heroes, not degenerates.”
“We all see what we’re searching for,” Donatti countered. “And what I know is demand is high right now. In this economy, a quick lay is still a cheap thrill. So maybe my girls are doing me a few more favors than usual, but slavery is illegal in this country. None of my girls are forced.”
“That depends on your definition of forced.”
“The kids are free to leave. But if they leave, they can’t come back. If they feel equipped to take on that big bad world out there… well, more power to them.”
“Nothing a little intimidation won’t take care of.”
“It is a scary world out there, Decker. If some of my stories make them a little cautious, I can live with that.”
Decker smoothed his mustache. “And you’re not worried about loose lips?”
“My kids don’t talk. So far, I’ve got a one-hundred-percent compliance rate because I’m very persuasive.”
“And if they did talk?”
Donatti shook his head ever so slightly. “Don’t go there.”
Decker exhaled heavily and turned away. Abruptly, he slammed his fist down on the table.
“I know,” Donatti said. “You want to beat the shit out of me. You want to pound my good-looking, arrogant, motherfucking head into a bloody pulp, and lop my oversize cock off because I’m in the driver’s seat. There was a time when the tables were turned, and I felt the way you’re feeling now. But we’re both adults now. You’ve got to swallow, Decker, just like I swallowed for eight years. If you were honest with yourself, you’d realize that I’m being big about this. You ruined my life.”
Decker’s laugh was mirthless. “You recovered pretty quickly, Chris.”
“You don’t know dick.” Donatti turned ugly. “I had my uncle convinced. I had her convinced. I could have owned her-body and soul-if you hadn’t fucked it up.”
“Women aren’t chattel anymore, Donatti.”
“That’s what you think,” Donatti spat back. “I was this close!” He pinched off an area between his index finger and his thumb. Then he sat back and sighed. “You know how it is… always obsessed with the one who got away. And I was obsessed with her to begin with.”
“You’re better off,” Decker said.
“You mean, she’s better off.” Donatti took a gulp of scotch. “Fuck the past. I’m a big boy. So I don’t own her. But I’m sure as hell renting her. And believe me, I’ve got her on a long-term lease. Besides, Terry isn’t the issue here. So forget about Terry. You’ve got other problems. At the moment, your problem is camped out with me and very happy to be there.”
Decker felt his blood pressure rise, and that wasn’t doing anyone any good. “She’s in one piece?”
“Absolutely.”
“What’s her mental condition?”
“Very agitated. I found her that way. Right now, she won’t talk about it. That’s okay. I don’t need to know details.”
“What are you doing with her?”
“Just letting her chill. I don’t pimp, but if I did, I wouldn’t ever send anyone out like that. Way too unstable.”