Микки Спиллейн - The Erection Set

With our glasses filled from a fresh bottle, Hunter toasted us all. “To a successful day,” he said. “It was a pleasure to see the Barrins outraged at the mere suggestion that they might have a moral flaw.”

“You’re a crafty bastard, Counselor. The old man was a shrewdie too.”

“Indeed he was. I hope you think more of him now.”

“Not more, just better.” I sipped my drink and put the glass down. “One thing went over my head, friend. You could have laid me out on that morals clause right then. Why didn’t you?”

Hunter finished half his glass before he answered me. “Had they not demanded the investigation of you, I would have. You see, that was another proviso of Cameron’s. I imagine he figured you wouldn’t have stood a chance otherwise, so he gave you one at their expense. If they wanted to be nasty about it, they had to put up with some discomfort at least. If they weren’t so simon-pure, they’d pay for their attempt to discredit you.”

I nodded and made wet circles with my finger on the tabletop. “Think much of my chances, buddy?”

“Frankly, I think it’s a lost cause. I told you, I have already made inquiries and your cousins are quite re-spectacle.”

“You’re too orderly, Hunter,” I said. “You didn’t get your nails dirty. If you want dirt, you dig where the dirt is. Something always turns up.”

“You think you have more experience at that sort of thing than I have?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, mighty Hunter.”

“No,” he said. He finished the rest of his drink. “Nor would I.” He snapped his fingers for the check, put it on his credit card and stood up. “Now,” he said, “I hate to be party to a possible immoral act, but tomorrow I have a session with the accountants at the factory. I have arranged to stay at the Gramercy Inn for the night, with separate accommodations already made for you two. In the meantime, you may have the use of the limousine, with or without the driver. I rather suspect Willis would be happy to be relieved. He has a room reserved for him too. If you wish, you can drive back to the city if you can pick me up again tomorrow. It’s your choice.”

Sharon started to laugh and gave him a look of faked anguish. “Mr. Hunter, you really are something. How can you even suggest a thing like that? Don’t you know anything about women at all? I have no change of clothes, no nightgown...”

“Hell, sleep in your drawers,” I said.

“Why, you...” She punched me in the arm and hurt her hand.

Hunter was watching us impishly. “I’ve provided for such a contingency,” he said. “The necessary apparel was purchased earlier by phone and has already been delivered to your room. I trust you’ll find my selections satisfactory. My legal mind also encompasses a fairly accurate estimate of female sizes and delicate necessities.”

“You know, Counselor,” I said, “I’m beginning to wonder if there aren’t a few things you could teach me.”

“In some areas only, Dog,” he replied.

For an hour after we dropped Hunter and Willis off at the hotel, we cruised around Linton. By full moonlight the town was a prettier place, the grime hidden, the gradual decay of the buildings unseen. No longer was there a night shift at the factory, so the streets were quiet, most of the windows in the residential area dark. A patrol car was parked outside an all-night diner and another drifted by idly with barely a glance at us.

The memories came back again, but with little impact... the old sandlot where I played softball with the Polacks was still there, littered with garbage now, but the wire backstop was still in place, rusted and sagging, a collection area for windblown papers.

We drove down Third Street and I said, “See that old building on the corner?”

Sharon nodded. “Looks like a haunted house.”

“Belonged to Lucy Longstreet. She was Madam Lucy then. Only whorehouse in town. That used to be a swinging joint on Saturday nights.”

“How would you know?”

I let out a laugh, remembering. “Hell, girl, kids know everything. There was a tree in the back we used to climb so we could watch the action. I’ll never forget that black-haired girl from Pittsburgh. One day she and Mel Puttichi were inside on that big brass bed sexing up a storm and got little Stash so damn excited he let go of his limb and fell down on top of me and knocked us both out of the tree. I felt like whamming him. Things were just getting good.”

“Dog!”

“So what’s wrong with watching? All kids are curious. It was first-class sex education.”

“And I suppose you were a steady customer at the place from then on?” she pouted.

“Hell no. Ran plenty of errands for Lucy, though. Always a buck tip and a chance to see one of the dames bare-ass when we brought in the package... if we were lucky. That black-haired dame never used to wear clothes ever. Quite a sight.”

“You’re terrible.”

“They had a double murder in there one night. That ended things for Lucy. It was never the same again. I think she took her suitcases of money and moved out to the coast.”

“What happened to the girls?”

“Probably all respectable married by now. You’d be surprised how much in demand they are.”

“After working...”

“Well, who wants a virgin anyway? Like the man said, if they’re not good enough for somebody else, they’re not good enough for me either.”

“Two words to you, Dog, and they’re not good night.”

“You really a virgin?” I asked her.

“If you promise to be gentle I could prove it to you.”

“That’s taking quite a chance.”

“Maybe.”

“Never mind, I’ll take your word for it.”

We drove past the outskirts of Linton and Sharon told me to take a left on a country road, then another left into a lane that ended a hundred yards away. I turned around the rutted dirt oval wondering what she wanted to see here, then the lights of the car swept over the remains of a small frame cottage set back in the trees. The windows were gone and a large oak had collapsed on top of the porch, one of the limbs taking out an attic dormer. A rubble of red bricks from the chimney made a mound at its base nearly hidden by weeds and grass.

Very softly, Sharon said, “That’s where I used to live. I was back here once before. My old bicycle is still out in back. It’s all rusted to pieces now.”

“Who owns it?”

I felt her shrug. “The bank, I guess. There used to be a For Sale sign in the front, but nobody ever wanted the place. I had a lot of good times here, Dog. Dad and me It wasn’t much, but he was happy. Neither one of us ever cared for pretentious living.”

“Then why sneak into Grand Sita?”

“Little girls are curious too. About different things, that is. You know what puzzled me about that big house you lived in?”

I shook my head.

“How you didn’t get lost in it. I used to try to figure out how you could find your way between ends. I could picture myself running upstairs and down and into all sorts of crazy empty rooms, yelling and screaming and never anybody to come get me out. I was always glad to get back home.”

“You’re silly,” I told her. I nodded toward the cottage. “Want to go in?”

“No. It would be too depressing. Don’t let’s spoil the evening.”

“We’re not going to find any night life in Linton, kid.”

“You know what I’d really like to do?”

“Just name it.”

“Drive out to Mondo Beach. For once I’d like to go through the main gate as a genuine guest.”

“You know, Sharon,” I said, “I think you’re a snob.”

“That’s me,” she said.

I found a hammer and screwdriver in the trunk of the car and knocked the lock off the hasp that held the gates shut. Wind-driven sand had piled up two feet deep along the bottom edge and we shoveled it away with our hands. When it was cleared I forced one section open, heard a hinge pry loose from the top, then I was inside. The roadway was too drifted over to try to get the car through, so Sharon took a blanket from the back seat and we started to walk toward the ocean.