Sol Stein - Other people

"You threw one at him. He could have shot you."

"I didn't think, really. It just happened."

"You hit him,"

"Yes."

I thought of a guy getting a dart in the eye. Jesus!

"Is he hurt bad?"

"Quite bad, I'm afraid. Please help."

He sounded like a child, this doctor of the child in us, suddenly at sea.

"Who do you normally use for a lawyer?" I asked.

"An old friend from Vienna, who makes out my will. He will not know what to do in this… police station. Can you help me? We are…" He hesitated. "In this together, are we not?"

I was very tired. Manhattan was a long way away.

"Get the address from the cop," I said. "I'll be down."

Francine wanted to know what was going on. I buttoned my collar and shoved my tie back up in place and put my jacket on. "Mind the house while I'm gone," I said. "I'll probably be half the night."

"I'll come with you."

"You don't want to see your shrink in the lockup. It won't help your analysis. I've got to get going."

"Please let me come with you."

"It would embarrass him. He's embarrassed enough."

"What happened?"

"You happened." I didn't realize how awful that was until I said it. "An intruder in his apartment was after your file. Koch hit him in the eye with a dart."

As I raced the car down to Manhattan for the second time that day, I tried not to think of Francine or what she might be thinking. I read the road signs out loud. I pushed the station buttons on the radio. Nothing, nothing, and nothing. I had to stay awake. Just keep driving, I told myself, drive .

I don't give a fuck for Harry Koslak's freedom. I got him out on bail so that I can prepare him for trial. Jail is no environment for rehearsals. Because the incident took place in the apartment directly below Koslak's, I suggested we meet in his apartment so he could walk me around the incident, so to speak. His wife seemed scared of me. I told her to take a long walk with the kids. As for the story Koslak then told me, I'm sure I didn't get it as it happened exactly. Koslak makes it sound as if he controls his cock like a light cord. That man I have yet to meet.

So when he finished what he called his explanation, I sat him down in his living room in one of those armchairs with plastic covers, next to the fake fireplace that never fooled anybody.

"Harry," I said, "let's handle the rest of this conversation in the following way. If I ask a question, you answer truthfully. If a question makes you uncomfortable, instead of giving in to the temptation to lie a little, just say you'd rather not answer that one, okay?"

"I'll tell you the truth," he said. "Ain't I been telling you the truth?"

"How did the Widmer girl first come to your attention?"

"You mean when'd I notice her?"

"Sure."

"On the stairs. Going up and down. You know, I'm going to work, I'm coming home from work, she's going someplace, she's coming from someplace."

"Did she say hello to you?"

"Not so's I remember."

"Did she nod the way people do when you live in the same building?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Did you nod back?"

"Probably."

"Did you ever nod first at her?"

"I don't do that kind of thing."

"You mean she made the first overture, she nodded first."

"You might say so."

"Was there anything provocative in her manner?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did she act sexy in any way?"

"Well, when I come up the stairs after her, you know, she's got one ass going up while the other's going down, back and forth. That's sexy."

"Would you say she walked that way on purpose?"

"What do you mean?"

"Harry, you know damn well what I mean. Some women just walk as if it's transportation and some roll their melons when there's someone to watch."

"Well, I'd have to guess."

"Go ahead, guess."

"From the way she dresses, I'd say she's probably walking sexy."

"What about her dress?"

"She don't wear dresses."

"I mean the way she dresses, what she wears, Harry." I was getting impatient.

"She don't wear no brassiere."

"Sometimes or always?"

"I never seen her that she didn't wear nothing under her blouse or sweater or whatever, even going to work."

"Did you find that sexy?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Did you find that provocative?"

"How do you mean?"

"Did her lack of a brassiere make you think things or want to do things?"

"You bet."

"Do you find all women of that age make you think things or was there something special about Miss Widmer?"

"Look, she is a real special-looking dame. She's got class the way Grace Kelly has class, you know what I mean? Not cheap. Class."

"That attracts you."

"It makes me want to poke my thing in there to see if it's real."

"How do you think she thinks about you?"

"Now?"

"Before all this happened."

"I don't know she noticed me except to nod. I was embarrassed, to tell the truth."

"Embarrassed?"

"Yeah, well I was often wearing overalls, right? I mean if I was wearing a business suit and a tie I'd a felt better about what she might be thinking."

"Did you feel, Harry, that she was beyond your reach?"

"Yeah, in a way, but I tell you, any dame walks around with tits like that is looking to get them grabbed, right?"

"You said the second time, when you and the janitor paid her a visit, that she was more cooperative."

"Yeah, she took her top off. Wouldn't you call that cooperative?"

"Maybe she thought that would interest you both."

"It sure did."

"Maybe, Harry, she was stalling until help could come."

"Stalling? I'd say she was moving things along. Listen, I never met a dame that'd volunteer a strip that wasn't a whore. Anyway, I don't pay for pussy. I don't respect anybody has to."

"Let's stick to the subject, Harry." I could have caved in his skull. "Would you say the janitor instigated the second visit?"

"What?"

"Put you up to it."

"Jason? I was the one told him. Listen, I don't want to get old Jason into dutch."

"Not even if it helps your case?"

"I'm not that kind of guy."

"But you thought that by bringing him along, if he had a piece of it too, you'd be convincing everybody that Miss Widmer'd ball anyone who came along, right?"

"Right."

"So you were thinking of your defense?"

"Sure."

"Why did you think you'd need a defense?"

"Be prepared, I say. To tell you the truth, I was surprised as hell when she did something about it. Most dames don't say nothing."

"Harry, how many women did you rape before this?"

He was silent.

"That's it," I said. "If you're tempted to lie, just don't answer."

"I'm not lying. I never raped nobody. Listen, Mr. Brady, you ever meet a woman you weren't married to who just invited you in? They all need a little sales talk, a little pressure, some more than others."

"What do you mean by pressure?"

"You know, what they like, you threaten them a bit, you joke about it or maybe you don't joke about it, you twist an arm a little, just as a reminder."

"A normal part of the mating game."

"What's that?"

"Never mind. You've had women resist like Miss Widmer?"

"Sure."

"But never call the cops before?"

"That's right."

"How many women?"

"Exactly?"

"Estimate."

"A dozen?"

"You asking or telling?"

"About a dozen. Maybe two dozen."

"Harry, I don't know if I want you testifying in your own behalf. I'd have liked to have you tell the story the way we plan it together, understand? Let's go back. You said you were thinking of your defense. Does that mean you thought you had done something wrong?"

Harry laughed real nervous like. "Look, Mr. Brady," he said, "don't you think you're doing something wrong whenever you have sex? I mean with anybody?"