Andrew Vachss - Down in the Zero

"It works just like a regular one. Look, there's a videotape I want to look at…you got a VCR over at the house, right?"

"Sure, it's— "

"I'll find it," I told him.

I went through the house slowly, but there was just too damn much of it. I'd need days to do a decent search— it was a job for the Israelis. Cherry's bedroom looked the same— no patina of dust even though I'd never laid eyes on a housekeeper all the time I'd been hanging around. It wouldn't be the only safe drop she had anyway. The clock in her bedroom mocked me. Three hours ahead …what the hell was that all about?

"First run's at nine," the kid told me as I was moving back across the driveway to my apartment. "I'm gonna get there early, burn things in."

"I'll come by later," I told him. "You don't know what time you go off?"

"No, not really. They usually run the Open Class last, but…"

"I'll find you," I said.

I was at Fancy's before dark. "I tried the parents of Troy and Jennifer" she told me. "The kids who…did it together?"

"And?"

"I figured, they'd be…together too, you know? Seeing as how their kids loved each other so much. But, Jennifer's father, he jumped right on me. He said he'd heard about you. About checking things out. And he and his wife, they just wanted to be left alone. So I called Troy's house. His mother wanted to know if I spoke to Jennifer's parents. I told her, not yet, like it was going to happen, right? She said she thought Jennifer was pregnant, and her parents wouldn't let her have an abortion. They're Catholic. But she wouldn't let me make an appointment either."

"Could that be true…what she said?"

"I kind of…asked around. Don't be mad— I was careful. It wouldn't be true. First of all, her parents aren't Catholic. And besides, lots of girls get abortions around here— it's a common thing. And Jennifer wasn't underage— she wouldn't have needed anyone's permission. They could have even gotten married if they wanted."

"But they were both in Crystal Cove…"

"I know. That's the funny thing— I think that's where they met. They really didn't know each other all that long…to be doing something like that."

"How long does it take?"

"Don't make fun of me, Burke. It's such a serious thing, doing what they did, I just thought…"

"I wasn't making fun of you, girl. That's the thing about suicides— you can never ask them."

Fancy drove us to a Thai restaurant in town in her NSX. I ordered skewered beef, seared in hot oil in a fondue pot they brought to the table. Fancy asked for stir–fried vegetables over sesame noodles.

"What do you drink with Thai food?" she asked, looking over her menu.

"Beer," I said. "At least that's what everyone says."

"Could I have one?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Well…you don't drink. I thought maybe…"

"What?"

"Well, I don't know. Maybe you don't like the taste of liquor…on me. You know, how some people who don't smoke can smell it on you?"

"Is that a hint?"

"Oh no! Honest. I don't care. I just didn't want to do anything you— "

"You don't, Fancy. Have a beer."

She ordered a Bud Light. Knocked it back like she was used to it. Halfway through the meal, she held up her hand and the waiter came over. "One more?" she asked me.

"Go for it. I can always drive back if I have to."

"Oh, I'm not that bad," she giggled. "I've been drinking since I was little. Wine, mostly. We used to have it at dinner."

"Does Charm drink?" I asked her.

She gave me a shielded look. "She plays with a drink. Like at parties and stuff. But she doesn't really like it."

Sure.

The captain ushered a portly man in his fifties past our table. He was dressed to the teeth, a dark suit just this side of a tux. The woman with him was taller, bone–thin, with straight auburn hair that looked too stiff to touch. The captain seated them somewhere to my left, just out of my line of vision.

Fancy started fussing with her food, not talking. "Something wrong?" I asked her.

"Burke, could you…oh, never mind."

"What?"

"It's too complicated. I…"

"Fancy!" My tone was sharper than I intended. Her face came up, gray eyes widening. She pushed her seat back, got up. She walked around the little table to her right, bent over where I was sitting, her lips right against my ear. "I'm going to the Ladies' Room. When I come back, I'm going to give you something. Will you take it? Put it in your pocket without looking at it? Please?"

I nodded, looking straight ahead. She stayed where she was, bent over, her lips still against my ear, but not saying anything, just getting her breath under control. Then she straightened up and walked off in the direction I was facing, an exaggerated twitch in her stride.

The waiter cleared the plates. I lit a cigarette, feeling the eyes, not turning around. Fancy came back, a high flush on her face, walking more stiffly, eyes downcast. She took her seat.

"Here," she said, leaning forward, extending her right hand around the edge of the table. I reached out with my left, holding her eyes. Felt silk. Bunched it up, put it in the side pocket of my jacket.

I paid the check. Fancy got up to leave before I could move. She walked around behind me, slid the chair back for me like a maitre d'. As we walked out together, I saw the portly man watching. His face was blotched with patches of white.

I opened the door to the NSX and Fancy climbed into the passenger seat. I turned the key and drove out of the parking lot, feeling the turbine–smooth power of the engine just waiting for a tap on the gas pedal to kick in.

"What was all that about?" I finally asked her.

"Could you light a cigarette?"

"What?"

"Light a cigarette…so I could have a drag?"

I did it. Handed it to her. She put it in her mouth, played with it, not inhaling. Handed it back to me.

"Tell me," I said.

"Look in your pocket."

I put my hand in, pulled out a pair of red silk panties trimmed with black lace.

"They're mine," Fancy said. "I took them off in the Ladies' Room."

"I don't get it."

"Did you see that fat man? The one who came in with that skinny lady?"

"Yeah. I mean, I didn't get a real good look, but I saw him."

"He's one of my…clients."

"So? I mean, that has to happen a lot, right? It can't be the first time."

"It's the first time it happened when I was with someone. I don't…date. Not in public. I go out and everything, but not just a man and me."

"I still don't get it."

"It's like it was with Charm, Burke. I saw him looking. Like he knew something."

"Fancy, he does know something. So do you, right? Sounds even–up to me…why should you be embarrassed?"

"It's not me, it's you. He saw me with you. I saw the way he was looking. It's like he knows you, see? I never talk about a client. Never, never. That's why I never date them. This kind of thing…like before…it could happen."

"Huh?"

"Don't you get it? If one client saw me with another, the one I was with, he wouldn't know anything. But the other one, he'd k now. It's a real…advantage to know about someone like that."

"Are you talking about blackmail?"

"Kind of. That's one of the most disgusting things in the world, selling secrets. Nothing would make me do that."

"You worried about someone blackmailing me?"

"No. How could they? Even if they saw you, they'd have no proof. That's not what I mean. It's so much power, to know what a person needs. Charm knows it. She used to always ask me who I was…doing. You know."

"What about the videos?"

"That's different. That's professional, not personal. Charm was always like that— she had to know secrets. That's why she joined Rector's. If you come there, you have to be into it."