Andrew Vachss - Safe House

“Those books you gave me? The last time you was here? I gotta, like, memorize all that?”

“No. Not word for word. But you heard it all before, right?”

“I guess. . . .”

“Sure you did,” I encouraged him. “Inside. Plenty of guys were into that.”

“And I gotta cut my hair?”

“Why?”

“Look like one of them skinhead motherfuckers, right?”

“Nah. You go in the way you are, Herk. You look like a fucking Viking anyway—it’ll be perfect.”

“You’d be like . . . around?”

“Not in there with you. But I’d be like your . . . coach, okay? There’s stuff we have to find out first, but we don’t have much time, Herk. If you don’t wanna do it, that’s okay. I got some cash here. Right with me. Say the word and you’re in the wind.”

“Burke . . .”

“What?”

“You’re right, bro. Fuck it, I ain’t goin’ back Inside. Let’s do it.”

Iparked Herk in Mama’s. The Prof was already there. He’d handle the first round of coaching. Pryce was going to call Crystal Beth around midnight, so I fired up the Plymouth and headed over there.

But I didn’t go straight to the Lower East Side. First I had to stop in the South Bronx. At the Mole’s bunker, where I said the magic words to him—the only words absolutely guaranteed to ring his bell.

Nazis in the house.

Irapped on her back door at nine. She opened it immediately, like she’d been waiting.

“What happened?” she greeted me.

I just pointed to the staircase, then swept my arm like an usher to indicate she should go first.

She threw me a look over her shoulder, but she went up the stairs without another word.

Inside her room, she bent to light the candle. I stood there, watching, unzipped my jacket. She came over to where I was standing, put her arms around my neck. I reached behind her, grabbed her bottom through the loose cotton slacks and pinched with both hands, hard.

“Ow! What was that for?” she squeaked.

“I just wanted to see if you were sore,” I told her, leaving my hands where they were.

“I am now, ” she said, pulling her hands down from my neck and trying to rub her bottom. My hands stayed in the way, keeping her from doing it. I pinched her again for emphasis.

“Burke, stop it!” she yelped, trying to wiggle free. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought that fat butt of yours might be a bit tender,” I said in her ear. “Riding a motorcycle over that rough terrain in the middle of the night and all.”

She stopped struggling. “I was just—”

“Spying,” I said. “Or playing some game I’m not in on. You tell me.”

“I didn’t think you saw me following you,” she said, no repentance in her voice. “I ran the whole way without lights.”

“What’s the deal, Crystal Beth? You weren’t close enough to listen.”

“I wasn’t trying to listen. I was just . . . afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Not of anything. I was afraid for you.”

“So you were gonna protect me?”

“Yes!” she said defiantly.

“With what?”

“I don’t know, ” she almost moaned. “I just . . . He’s a very bad man. I thought, if he had other people there, I could ride up and . . .”

“What? Have me jump on the bike so we could make a getaway?”

“All right, I didn’t know. I didn’t have a plan. But I had a . . .”

“Purpose?”

“Yes. Go on, mock me. There wasn’t anything I could do . . . here. Just sitting and waiting. I got you into this and . . .”

“It’s okay,” I said, patting her where I’d pinched. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have let me go?”

“No.”

“That’s why,” she said, flashing her smile. “I know what men are like.”

“You don’t have a clue,” I told her.

“I know what my father was like,” she said. “He never would have let my—”

“I’m not your father, little girl.”

“I know. I didn’t mean—”

“Never mind.”

“Burke, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll—”

“I thought we had a deal,” I told her. “You were going to do what I told you.”

“I did. ”

“Not just in the damn restaurant, Crystal Beth. Until this is done. Until it’s over.”

“And then?”

“Then you can do what you want.”

“What ever I want?” She smiled.

“Don’t press your luck,” I said.

She put her nose in my chest and rubbed like she had before. It worked. I sat in the easy chair and she plopped herself in my lap. Then I told her a pretty close version of my conversation with Pryce. Everything but the money part.

“Are you really going to . . . put somebody in there? With Lothar?” she asked when I was done.

“Yeah.”

“When?”

“Pryce is going to call here tonight. He’s going to want another meet. I figure he’ll do it the same way. You know, he’ll already be in place. We’ll have to leave right away.”

“We? You mean you want me to—?”

“No. I mean me and the guy I’m putting in. He’s going be here later. Around eleven-thirty. And he’s got to stay here until we move him out.”

“Stay here? A man?”

“Yeah. Pryce won’t give me time to go and pick him up. And I already moved him out of where we had him staying. It’ll just be for a day or two.”

“I can’t let him. . . . There’s no men living here.”

“You got a basement, right?”

“Yes. But it’s not really set up for living. There’s no—”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s stayed in worse. We can fix it up easy enough. All right?”

She didn’t say anything, one fingernail idly scratching the back of my neck.

“All right?” I asked her again.

“All right,” she agreed.

She was quiet for a few minutes after that. Then she shifted her weight so her hips were resting on the arm of the easy chair. “I’ll bet I’m bruised,” she said on the wings of a soft breath. “From where you pinched me.”

“It wasn’t that hard,” I said.

“Yes it was,” she said. “There’s bruises. Big ones, I’m sure of it. You better take a look.”

We waited downstairs together. Eleven-thirty sharp, knuckles hit the outside door. I motioned Crystal Beth to one side and opened it. Herk and Clarence stood there. And the Mole, an indistinct blob in his dirt-colored jumpsuit, a toolbox in his right hand.

I waved them in. “This is Hercules,” I said to Crystal Beth.

“I’m glad to meet you,” she said, holding out her hand for him to shake.

“You’re goddamn gorgeous!” Herk said, staring. He can do that—say something like that to women without a trace of a leer or a sneer—I’ve seen him do it before.

Crystal Beth flushed, mumbled something under her breath.

“And this is Clarence,” I told her.

“I am honored to meet you,” the West Indian said in his formal voice.

“The honor is mine,” she replied, on safer ground now.

“That’s the basement?” I asked, pointing to my left.

“Yes.”

The Mole walked past us without a word and disappeared down the dark stairs, Clarence right behind him, trusting the Mole to see in the dark. Crystal Beth gave me a look. I ignored it. “Let’s talk upstairs,” I said.

She started up the steps. I elbowed Herk out of the way before he could tell her what a beautiful butt she had and fell in right behind her, leaving him to follow.

In her room, Crystal Beth hit a switch and three separate lamps snapped into light. The place looked different in artificial light. Colder, more efficient.

“It’s gonna be tonight,” I told Herk. “This guy, Pryce, he’ll call here. And we’ll go to the meet. You’ll stay here until he has it set up.”