Joseph Wambaugh - Hollywood Crows

“I love you,” Margot said, ending the call.

Margot poured a cup of coffee and called the nanny in order to have Nicky picked up for an overnighter. The nanny was used to it and got well paid for overnighters. There was nothing for Margot to do now but to prepare herself mentally.

She decided that after a few months she’d kiss off Jasmine with a nice “severance package.” Margot figured that $100,000 would be enough for her. Of course, Jasmine would rage and threaten to expose Margot, but what could she really do? Admit to being a co-conspirator and accomplice? And what could she prove if she did make such an outrageous claim? No, Jasmine would take the money and fall in love with someone else. Just like the song, she fell in love too easily, but only if the lover was very rich. That reminded Margot to retrieve Jasmine’s go phone in the next few days and dispose of it. Just in case.

Sheer emotional exhaustion kept Leonard asleep for an hour. When he got up, he showered and even shaved. He put on a clean T-shirt and faded Levi’s jeans that weren’t too grungy and his best pair of sneaks. He smoked a cigarette and amped up on coffee and began a rehearsal. He had to strike the right ’tude going in, was how he figured it. He had to be ready to be just too cool when the fucking Ay-rab started waving the verbal dagger in his face.

The Leopard Lounge had enough dancers in the stable to keep the club crowded in late afternoon, and happy hour prices were not necessary. Leonard counted more than forty cars in the parking lot at 6:10 P.M., and it made him feel more justified than ever in making demands for a decent fee for services rendered.

He once again entered the office of Ali Aziz without knocking, and found Ali seated at his desk with a bottle of Jack and two glasses. Near the bottle were some letters and a blank envelope, along with a vial of magenta-and-turquoise capsules.

Ali, who had also been mentally rehearsing, had the toothiest smile that Leonard had ever seen on him.

“Leonard, my friend!” Ali said extravagantly. “I am very glad to see you. I have got back the important document, thanks to my friend Leonard. Everything is correct again!”

Leonard sat in the client chair and said, “Yeah, well, I’m happy you’re happy, because I think we got more business to discuss.”

“I wish to order some food for my friend. I feel like a new man. A nice steak, perhaps? T-bone? Rib eye?”

Leonard gave a head shake, not knowing what to make of the new Ali, and he said, “Naw, I ate at IHOP.”

“A drink?” Ali said, pouring two hefty shots of Jack Daniel’s.

“Okay,” Leonard said, picking up the nearest glass.

“You look like you are tired,” Ali said. “You are getting enough sleep, no?”

“I get enough,” Leonard said.

“I am getting good sleep,” Ali said. “I take sleep medicine that one of my dancers gave to me.”

“That’s good,” Leonard said, thinking he might try switching from smoking rock to booze if he could afford good stuff like this.

Ali said, “I am going home in one hour because I was awake at five o’clock this morning to do inventory. My bitch wife no longer does inventory for me, so I must do all things.”

“Yeah, life is tough,” Leonard said. “You shoulda been with me last night. Even your sleeping pills wouldn’t a helped.”

“Where you were last night?”

“In jail.”

“Oh, god!” Ali said. “What did you do wrong?”

“Nothing,” Leonard said. “Except that I did that job for you. And the cops found my tools and rousted me, and I spent the night in jail, even though they couldn’t prove nothing and had to kick me out this afternoon.”

“Oh, god!” Ali said. “You didn’t say nothing about-”

“Of course not,” Leonard said. “But I still got popped behind that business I did for you.”

“I am so sorry, my friend,” Ali said, pouring another double shot for Leonard. “That is why you look so sleepy.”

With two capsules full of powdered sugar concealed in his left hand, Ali reached for the vial of capsules on the desk. Ali unscrewed the top and appeared to shake out two capsules onto the desktop, dropping the two that he’d palmed. Then he screwed the top back on and put the vial near the bottle of Jack.

Ali made it very apparent that he was putting the capsules into his mouth and swallowing them down with a shot of the Scotch, saying, “This is very good sleep medicine. I shall be feeling very peaceful soon. And then, maybe one hour from now, I shall go to bed and sleep for ten, twelve hours. You only want eight hours, you swallow down one capsule. Wonderful sleeping.”

“Yeah, that’s nice, but maybe we oughtta talk,” Leonard said.

Still brimming with bonhomie, Ali said, “You try.” Then he unscrewed the top again.

“I ain’t ready to go to sleep,” Leonard said.

“No,” Ali said, “not for now. You try later. You shall thank me. If you like them, I get you all you want.”

Leonard had never been one to turn down drugs of any kind, and he gave a nod while Ali dumped the capsules onto the desktop and put the empty vial in the drawer. Then he pushed a plain envelope across to Leonard with his fingernail and, with a mirthless smile, said, “One hour before you wish to sleep, swallow down two.”

Leonard scooped the capsules into the envelope, folded it, and put it in his pocket. Then he said, “I been thinking that my pay for what I done for you is pathetic. You just said how much I helped you. But what happened to me? I went to the slam and spent the fucking night with maniacs and child molesters and gangbangers.”

Ali stopped smiling then. His brow wrinkled and he said, “I feel great sorrow for you, my friend.”

Leonard said, “Yeah, well, I ain’t looking for pity. I just want proper compensation.”

Ali knew he had guessed correctly. It was blackmail. He’d probably demand another two hundred. Maybe even five. And he’d be back in a few weeks. And a few weeks after that. Ali was glad he had decided to give Leonard the other deadly sister. It would be the only way to stop these petty demands that would eventually get expensive, and even dangerous.

Trying to maintain an attitude of sympathy mixed with puzzlement, Ali said, “How can I help you, Leonard?”

“I think ten thousand bucks will help a lot,” Leonard said.

Ali could not remember a time when he needed to control so much outrage. He sipped some Jack and, with a quiver in his voice, said, “You wish for me to pay you ten thousand? Am I hearing the correct words?”

“It’s only a loan,” Leonard said. “I got an idea for a small business. I need a stake.”

“A loan,” Ali said without intonation.

“Yeah,” Leonard said. “I’ll pay you back in maybe a year, eighteen months tops, with twenty percent interest. That’s fair, ain’t it?”

“But Leonard, ten thousand is very big money,” Ali said.

“Not to you,” Leonard said. “I seen your ex-house. I seen this club packed to the walls, with money laying all over the bar and the tables and even on the stage. How much did you make on a case of that hot liquor I used to supply you? Come on, Ali, ten grand ain’t much for you to lend to a friend.”

“I shall have to think,” Ali said. “You come back in three, four days. We are going to talk some more.”

Suddenly Leonard said, “What would your ex-old lady say if she knew you paid me to steal a folder from her desk?”

Ali knew that his voice might betray the rage welling up from his belly, so he took another sip of Jack Daniel’s and said, “My bitch wife? She would say no, Ali has no care about documents in this house. She would not be believing such a thing, Leonard.”