William Bayer - Blind Side

Kim pointed to a restaurant behind.

"I waitress over there."

I turned, saw a sprawling low-roofed building with a glassed-in terrace set beside the water. it was long past the lunch hour but there were still cars parked in front. i,d heard of the place.

"I hear it's good," I said.

"Wouldn't it have been a hoot if you'd wandered in, and I'd been assigned to be your waitress?"

"Most definitely a hoot," I answered sourly.

She looked at'her watch. shift starts at five. I want to stay with you, clear things up. I'm going in now to find someone to cover for me tonight."

I nodded, watched her disappear into the restaurant, then turned back to the Krawls. A fortyish woman with the bright eyes of a true believer was showering the turtles with hunks of squid. I peered down into the mossygreen water, saw one old monster attack a mass of tentacles with his jaws.

I thought about Kim. was she lying? Fifty-fifty, I thought. But I hoped she was telling me the truth. After Kim arranged things at the restaurant, we walked into Old Town. She took my arm as she talked:

"Rakoubian came to me. That's how it started. He knew Shadow and I were broken up over Sonya, but he ew I wanted approached me alone because, he said, he kn vengeance. He said he could see that in my eyes.

" 'So what makes you such a big expert on my eyes?"

" I asked him.

" 'Years of experience. I'm a photographer, dearie. Girls your age, they're my stock-in-trade. I know girls and I know their eyes and I know vengeful eyes when I see them. And yours are vengeful. Am I right?'

"He was right. I did want vengeance. He smelled that out. He knew my type, So he said: 'Help me get pictures Of this guy and you'll get your vengeance." And since that didn't seem like such a bad idea, I agreed.

"We talked. After a while we got onto the subject of money. The Masked Man was rich-that much was obvious. He was a rich old man. 'Just the kind of man,' Rakoubian said, 'who can get away with murder.'

"I asked Adam what he meant. He said, you know, the usual stuff: the rich don't go to jail, they can afford the kind of lawyers who keep you out. they pay off the judge, or bribe the jury, or get a mistrial, whatever-he doubted even if we managed to get pictures, they'd amount to very much. Because what then, really, would we have? Just some pictures of some rich old guy putting on a mask. Big deal! So what? Who would care? And how would that tie him to a murder? Guys like the Masked Man, Adam said, they always get away with it.

"But then he became expansive. He said he had an idea. He asked me if it wouldn't be a much sweeter revenge if we used such photos, assuming he'd be able to take them, to make the Masked Man pay.

" 'See,' he said, 'that's what it's all about. In the end it's always money. That's the real revenge, dearie, because that's where it hurts them. The pocketbook-that's where they feel the pinch. Look, nothing's going to bring Sonya back. But we can hurt the guy for wasting her. What we have to do is get our pictures, then threaten him with exposure. Tell him we're going to turn him over to the cops. Unless he pays us a million bucks.'

"That's when the whole notion of blackmail first came up. And I liked it. I admit that, Geoffrey. I liked it very much. It appealed to me on all sorts of different levels. Yeah, I liked it. And Rakoubian could see I did. He had me figured right, didn't he? I was a tough little bitch. And he knew it. Yeah, he could see it in my eyes………

We wandered up and down Caroline, Eaton and Fleming streets and then through various lanes: Weaver, Finder, Love and Locust. As we walked the houses brooded over us; the sky began to darken, the great palms shivered and cast longer shadows. On one block we passed a porch where a parrot was tethered to a perch. It screeched at us: "Hi! Fucky-Ducky! Hi!" And then the crazy little bird cackled like a madman in the dusk.

"What's your name?" I asked her.

She looked at me.

"You know my goddamn name."

"Yeah, I know your 'goddamn name." It's your real name I want."

"Is it so important?"

"to me it is."

"What does 'real' mean?"

"Come off it, Kim. This isn't philosophy class."

"You know I'm no philosopher, Geoffrey. You know I'm just a blackmailing little bitch."

I stopped and peered at her.

"Is that how you define yourself?"

"That's how you define me now, isn't it?"

"Maybe," I said.

"But I want to know more. Your name, who your parents are, where you went to school, your past. I want to know all that. And I want to hear it straight."

She met my eyes straight on.

"Oh, I could give it to you straight," she said.

"We could go through all that crap, and then what would you know? And who's to say anyway what name is really real, the name you're born with or the name you give yourself? Is it 'Bob Dylan' or 'Robert Zimmerman'? 'Cary Grant' or 'Archie Leach." Or take Lauren Bacall-you say I remind you of her. Well, I read she was born 'Betty Perske." So is that her name? Or is her real name 'Lauren Bacall'?"

As we walked along Margaret Street a light tropical wind blew through Kimberly's hair. She looked good. Maybe too good, I thought. I decided to step up the interrogation:

"Why did you lie to Jess Harrison?"

"I don't know that I did."

"You told him you did tricks."

"That wasn't a lie."

"Rakoubian says you didn't."

"He's the biggest liar around."

"He said Mrs. Z never ran an escort service."

"She didn't. But some of us actresses made side arrangements with her clients."

"Jesus, Kimberly-do you know how hard you sound?"

"I never pretended I was soft."

"You did with me."

"No , Geoffrey. With you I didn't pretend."

Good, I wanted to believe her! "Why didn't you tell me you liked doing sex for money? ' My question came out almost like a wail. From the way she looked at me, I think she understood my pain.

"Because you never asked me, and I stopped doing it before I met you, and what I did with you wasn't for pay. She caught her breath. "There was another reason too.

"What was that?"

"I didn't think you'd understand."

I shook my head.

"I understand a lot of things. But not unnecessary lies."

"The only lies I told you were necessary ones."

"I see." I groaned.

"What about the Duquaynes?"

"What about them?"

"Did you make it with them?"

"Yes.

"In performance? Or privately?"

"Both."

"God damn you! Why didn't you tell me?" "Right … like: 'Gee, Geoffrey, I'm taking you to these people's home for dinner, and, by the way, I've had sex with the wife while the husband was tied up in a chair. ' "

"Whose idea was that?"

"Harold's. "Fun!"

"Actually it was."

"You like girls, don't you?" "Sometimes. Don't you?"

"You and Shadow were lovers." ,'We had been. Occasionally."

"Yet she knew nothing about the blackmail?" ,'That's right."

"So she suffered for what she didn't know?"

"Yes, Geoffrey, she did. She certainly did. And that's the reason I'm not done with this yet."

At the intersection of Angela Street and Passover Lane, the city cemetery spread out before us. The white graves, as in New Orleans, were set a 'bove the ground, and the bordering palms arched high against the clouds.

Kim was panting. I grabbed her. Then I pushed my mouth hard against hers and kissed her viciously. She took it from me, even when I cut her lip with my teeth.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, breaking away to spit out blood. "I felt like it."

"Good enough reason." She looked at me, smiled.

"I liked it. You knew I would."

"I didn't give a damn whether you'd like it or not."

"Why then, Geoffrey?"

"I wanted to see how tough a little bitch you really are. "