"Just don't tell him I gave you his name."
"I don't even know yours. But I'll find you if this isn't true."
"It's true, man, it's true," the junkie said, grabbing Remo's arms. "Where's my high, man? You promised!"
"So I did," Remo said. He pulled his arms free of the man's frantic grip, reached around behind him, and touched him on the back of the neck. A euphoric look came over the junkie's face, and he leaned back against the door.
"Oh, wow," he breathed.
"Yeah," Remo said. "You don't know it, but you've just taken the cure. After this, you'll never find another high to match it."
"Oh, wow."
"Thanks for the info."
Remo left the junkie flying high in his doorway and started following the man's directions. The junkie had said it was close enough to walk.
When he reached the building he was looking for, he was surprised to find that it was a fairly decent-looking apartment house, located on the fringes of the ghetto. Close enough to his clientele to deal, but far enough away so that he could persuade himself that he didn't live with them, Remo said to himself.
Here I come, Danny the Man.
Danny "the Man" Lincoln had grown up in the ghetto, and somehow living on the edge of it gave him great satisfaction. He was living there because he wanted to, and he could leave anytime he wanted. He had enough money, and that was something his mother and father never had— enough money to get out.
Danny the Man wasn't expecting company. In fact, he already had company, a willowy black beauty who was stretched out on his bed, awaiting his pleasure and eager to fulfill it.
"Come to bed, Danny."
"What's your hurry, baby?" he asked from the doorway of his bedroom. Of course, he knew what her hurry was. The sooner she made him happy, the sooner she got some "candy," to make her happy. The kind of candy that mainlined you straight to heaven.
"I just want to make you happy, Danny," she said, batting her eyes and dropping the sheet so he could see her full, ripe breasts. "You know how I can make you happy."
"Oh, I know, all right," Danny said.
He was taking off his jacket when there was a knock at the door.
"Now who the hell—"
"Don't answer it," the girl on the bed said. If he answered it, she knew she wouldn't get her fix, and she couldn't wait any longer.
"Just be calm, Laura," he said. "I'll be right back."
He shrugged his jacket back on and walked to the door. There was another knock, and then he reached the door and opened it.
The man who opened the door was tall and black, in his late twenties, wearing a red smoking jacket.
"What can I do for you, my man?"
"Are you Danny the Man?" Remo asked.
"That's me."
"Somebody told me you're a pusher."
Danny laughed and said, "What are you, a cop? Is this a new approach? Get lost, man." The black man started to slam the door, but Remo moved his foot and kept it open.
"I'm not a cop," he said, "I just need to talk to a pusher."
"About what? You looking to get into the business? Everybody wants in on the act."
"That's what I want to talk about," Remo said. He pushed past Danny and entered the apartment.
"Hey, man—"
"You better shut the door, Danny boy, so we don't attract any unwanted attention."
"And how we gonna do that, slick?"
"I'm going to ask you some questions, and if I don't get some straight answers, I'm going to bounce you all over these walls."
"Huh," Danny said contemptuously. It was a demonstration of his contempt that he did shut the door and then folded his arms defiantly. "You're a tough dude, huh? Big man?"
Before Remo could answer, the girl came out of the bedroom, naked.
"Danny—"
"Get back inside, bitch!" Danny the Man snapped.
"Danny, I just need—"
"I got somebody here, stupid. What are you coming out here like that for?"
Looking as if she had just been slapped in the face, she said, "Gee, honey, I just wanted—"
"You just wanted your fix, huh, bitch?" He walked up to her and slapped her viciously across the face. "You don't come walking into a room buck naked when I got company, you dumb cow! Go back in the bedroom and get dressed, and then get the hell out. I don't ever want to see you again!"
"But Danny, I need—"
"I know what you need, and you can go get it from somebody else. But you better have plenty of cash because they might not take a mediocre piece for it like I did."
He gave her a push that propelled her all the way into the next room.
"You're a sweetheart, aren't you?" Remo said.
"She's just a dumb junkie bitch," Danny said. "In an hour she'll be sitting in some alley someplace sniffling and shaking. She'll give some john a good time for five bucks."
He turned on Remo then and said, "We got some business, huh? You wanna ask me some questions and get straight answers?"
"That's right."
"Well, let's get past that part, white boy, because I want to get to the part where you bounce me off the walls." The black pusher smiled and produced a switchblade from his pocket. He flicked out the blade. "That I gotta see."
The girl came out of the bedroom then, half in and half out of her clothes, crying, but somehow exhibiting a defiance of her own.
"Big man, Danny the Man," she said with contempt. "You ain't a man, Danny boy, you ain't even a good—"
Danny took one step and brought his hand up to deliver a smashing backhand blow that would have rattled the girl's teeth and dislodged some of them if it had landed.
It didn't.
Danny felt an iron grip wrap itself around his wrist, and then he couldn't move his arm at all.
"Not this time," Remo said.
"Let go of my hand," Danny said coldly. He looked as cool as could be, but inside he was wondering what the white man's grip was made of. The man was no bigger than he was, but he couldn't move his goddamn arm!
"Back away from the girl," Remo said, "and then we'll continue our conversation."
Danny the Man's eyes bored into Remo's, and then he took a step back. As Remo let go of his wrist, Danny backed up a couple more steps. The girl, who had flinched in anticipation of the blow, looked at Remo.
"Thanks, mister."
"You'd better leave, miss."
"But, I need—"
"You don't need anything that he can give you," Remo said. "Come on, I'll walk you to the door."
He kept an eye on Danny as he walked with her to the door, and without letting the black drug pusher see what he was doing, he touched the girl on her back, by the fifth vertabra. The girl almost staggered from the jolt of pleasure that shot through her, but he steadied her, opened the door, and guided her into the hall. He left her leaning against the wall, still reeling from her new experience, one she'd never be able to match with any drug.
He closed the door and turned to face Danny, who was staring down at his hands. He was wondering why he had totally forgotten the blade in his left hand when the white man grabbed his right wrist.
"Now, about those questions," Remo said.
"You can ask," Danny said, "but that ain't saying that I'll answer."
"Well, we'll try it the easy way first."
Danny studied Remo for a few moments in silence, then folded up his blade and tucked it away.
"You want a drink?"
"No, thanks. Just some answers."
"Well, go ahead and ask."
The black man walked to a small portable bar, and Remo waited until he had a drink in his hand.
"I want to know about the drug business, Danny," he said. "Specifically in this area."
Danny sipped his drink. "Business ain't exactly booming."
"Why not?"
"There's some new action in town, and it's cutting into business. Not just my business. Everybody's."
"Who are they?"