Stark: A Novel (13 page)

“Chill, baby,” Stark cut in. “I don’t understand your kick or how you think or what you want. You’re in some kind of twilight zone all your own. One minute you act like I’m some kind of shit and you’re the Virgin Mary. The next minute you want to get as deep in the gutter with me as you can. I don’t understand, but it doesn’t matter one way or another. You’re here and I dig you. Love isn’t in this equation. Momo doesn’t know you’re with me, so you can stay. Just do what I tell you and stay out of sight for a few days until I can wrap this all up. Then we are out of here. Where’s your clothes?”

“I only had a few things. I left them. I just split when he wasn’t looking.”

Stark nodded, glanced at his watch on the nightstand. “It’s getting late. I’ve got a heavy day tomorrow. Come over here.” His voice thickened with meaning. Dorie understood his look and smiled. She unbuttoned the front of her white blouse and took off her bra. Her soft white breasts peeked teasingly from the open garment. Then she crawled along the bed until she was lying beside him. Their mouths met and her tongue explored his. When they ended the kiss she pressed his head down to her tits. He nibbled on them and felt the nipples rising to hard- ness against his teeth. She arched her back, combed her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer. She began to whimper and whisper, “Do me. Hurt me.”

When Stark awoke this morning it was not with the suddenness of other times. He felt logy and had to focus. His body hinted at the need for drugs, and his first thought was for a get-up shot. Then he became aware of the sleeping figure beside him, blankets drawn over her head. She was hell in bed, he thought, smiling faintly. Quietly disentangling himself, he picked up his shorts from where they had been discarded on the carpet, and moved toward the bathroom. He took half his morning fix, trying to cut back, and left enough capsules for Dorie to fix twice; she would need one when she woke and another later in the day. He would be gone until evening, would supply himself and bring some back while moving, but she would be alone. He hoped there was some food around. He was not comfortable with any responsibility for someone else. Through the window the sky was a grey shroud from the sea mist. It was a high overcast, but it kept him from guessing the time. It could be anytime between dawn and eleven-thirty. With sudden anxiety he found his wristwatch and checked it. It was only a few minutes after eight, earlier than he usually got up. His plans had caused him to come awake.

He shaved in the shower while the water pelted him. After deodorant and cologne the scent of her was gone. He slipped into doeskin slacks and hung a shirt and sweater from a doorknob. Dorie was still sleeping, and he decided to make the first telephone call before she got up. On tiptoe, he left the bedroom, making certain she hadn’t moved before gently closing the door.

There was a growing knot of tension in his belly as he dialed. This was the first cast of the dice, in a calculated parlay gamble.

“Talk smooth, Mr. Slick,” he muttered to himself as the receiver began its rhythmic buzzing.

“Oceanview Police,” a female operator answered.

“Let me have Lieutenant Crowley’s extension.”

“One moment, please.”

There was a click and another buzzing. Then Stark heard the receiver rise.

“Narcotics Division, Lieutenant Crowley.”

“Ernie Stark, boss…”

“Stark,” spluttered Crowley; Stark could visualize the blotchy reddening of the policeman’s face. “I know all about it,” Crowley seethed. “Wilson called me last night. I told him what a rat you are and advised him not to trust you. I want you to know that. But he insisted, so you’re free… for now. Are you happy, punk? Your info caused the death of a cop. Forget the bad guys you ratted out.”

“Look, lieutenant, it wasn’t like you think. It wasn’t a game. But you were too impatient, put too much pressure on me. I didn’t want you to put the heat on me. I know you’ve got the upper hand. I’m sorry about the dead cop.”

“I’ll bet you are. You’ll know it better when Wilson gets tired of your bullshit, and I get back in the act. You’re gonna know it from the jail ward in the hospital. When I think about you, I wish I could get my hands on you. You’re the rottenest excuse for a human being I ever met.”

Stark held the phone away from his ear and listened to the tirade of contempt with an expression of wry boredom on his face. When it began to subside, he brought up the mouthpiece.

“Let me say something,” he said forcefully, then dripped solemn sincerity into his voice. “I can understand why you despise me. I’m not much good —”

“Not any good.”

“Maybe I’m a junkie and a con man. I’ll probably always be a hustler. I’ve tried to quit, and I’m trying to cut back on the shit. You know how this shit drives a guy. It makes him do things that aren’t right. I’m not any good, but I’m better than the vultures who peddle it and suck my blood. I hate them as much as you do. I didn’t go to Wilson to duck out on you, but like I said, you weren’t using any discretion. You despise me so much that you were going to get me killed.”

He paused for a response. There was only a grunt. At least it was not ear-burning vilification.

“I’m still working on what you want, and I think I’ve got an angle.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“I’m pretty sure I can find out who the connection is, if you help me.”

“Help you?” Crowley was instantly wary. It edged the tone of his reply. “How’s that? Say it real slow, so I can think about it. You are such a slimy rat.”

“Momo’s shacking up with a young broad.”

“I know. Dorie Williams. Age twenty-seven. Good family. No arrest record, but she’s an addict. She’s a psych case, too. I checked on her with the hospital. See, I know a little about what’s going on.”

“That’s her. The thing is that she goes for me in a big way. She knows who the Man is.” He stopped, waiting.

After a few seconds of silence, Crowley snapped, “So pump her. What’s that got to do with me? You think I should pick her up and rough her up, or something? They’d have my badge.”

“No, not that. I wanna work on her, but I don’t get more than a few minutes at a time. Momo’s always bird dogging the scene. He don’t give her no air. He’s the problem. If you could jerk him in for a few hours -” Stark heard the bedroom door click open and broke off. He was on the sofa and cupped the receiver and looked over his shoulder at the girl. She looked curiously at him, but he could tell that she hadn’t heard anything. His first impulse was to order her back to the bedroom, but it might create a situation. He decided the conversation could be fogged up at this point so she would not understand the gist of it. He motioned her to go into the kitchen and make him some coffee, holding out his empty hand as if it held a mug he kept sipping.

“Stark… Stark, what the hell,” Crowley was angrily shouting.

“Yeah, I’m here.” “Where the hell did you go?”

“A cigarette fell out of the ashtray on the carpet.”

“So finish,” Crowley pressed.

“If you do what I said, I can make that move and help you. I’m working on that other for Wilson, too.”

Crowley sucked his teeth, considering. “All of a sudden you’re co-operative as hell.”

“You got it wrong. All of a sudden there’s something I can do without getting killed. This is good, you might get a promotion out of it.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Crowley said dubiously. “It might be the truth, and it might be some kind of game.” Crowley hesitated, reflected. Stark waited. Finally the cop said, “If it is a game, I can’t figure out your angle. But I don’t know, you probably have one. I don’t have anything to lose, so I’ll go for it. When do you want me to take him in? Maybe he’ll spill about the connection, then I won’t need you.”

“Not likely, or you would have done it a long time ago. Do it at noon today, give or take an hour. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

“No, I can find him by his smell. How long do you want me to hold him?”

“Three or four hours. You can tell him the girl gave up his connection.”

“And while he’s gone you’re gonna lay her.”

“That’s part of the game… the fun part.”

“Will she tell you who the Man is?” asked the cop.

“I know I can get it out of her.” “Oh, Christ! I don’t know why I’m a cop. I get dirty just from being around people like you.”

“So quit.”

“Nope. It’s stale, but somebody’s got to do it. I got a stronger stomach than most.”

“So, I can count on you doing that?”

“Yes. Call me later and tell me what you find out. It better be good, or you’re dead meat.”

“Sure. Sure. Don’t worry.”

“Watch out for Dummy. I don’t want you dead before I can squeeze you.”

“Some joke, Pat,” he said and hung up laughing before Crowley could curse him.

There was a grin on his lean face as he turned to Dorie. The girl was still standing near the bedroom door. She was barefoot, wearing only lace panties and the shirt he had discarded the night before. The ensemble accentuated her full, long legs, smooth and firm. Coupled with the lack of makeup and sleep-tousled hair, her appearance was of both extreme youth and lush sensuality. She had a burning cigarette in her mouth and blinked from the rise of smoke. She understood Stark’s stare of appraisal and smiled softly. The Veronica Lake look.

“Uh uh,” he said. “I’ve got business this morning.”

Dorie shrugged. “Who’s Pat? Another girlfriend?”

“Nah, some booster… a deal about some hot merchandise for junk. The guy I was talking to is representing some other sucker. We might burn him. It ain’t nothing.” He stood up and came around the sofa toward the bedroom. Passing Dorie, he patted her on a bare, warm thigh. “Looking good, baby.”

“That’ll cost you a fix,” she said, “or maybe you want a fuck, too.”

“I always like more of you, but I left some shit in the john for you. There’s enough for a couple of jolts. I’m trying to cut back. Save some for later. I’ll be gone all day.”

She nodded, but did not go to the bathroom. For a moment she watched as he began to brush the shoes he was going to wear.

“I’ll fix in a few minutes,” she said. “I’ll make you some coffee if you want.”

He nodded absently. “There’s a jar of instant in the cupboard. The faucet isn’t quite hot enough. Fill a pan and stick it on the stove ‘til it boils.”

“Jesus, you think I don’t know how to make instant coffee?”

Dorie went toward the kitchen. Stark slipped the alligator shoes on and reached for the soft shirt and jacket. He combed his hair into perfect casualness and checked his appearance in the full length mirror on the back of the closet door. He was satisfied. The clothes were expensive and had flair without being flashy. Nobody would guess he was a thief and a con artist. He looked like a husband in suburbia with a ten thousand a year income, and good taste in clothes. Starting to leave, he had an impulse. He took the small automatic and slipped it into his front pocket. It weighed slightly against his leg, but did not bulge his jacket. He went out to the kitchen. Dorie had not only made the coffee but was just about scrambling bacon and eggs. They sizzled on the small stove. She was crouching down, checking the oven, when he arrived.

“If you wait for this to heat up you can have toast.”

“I haven’t got time.”

“The other stuff will be ready in two minutes.”

He grunted, but flickered a smile. He was anxious to get moving and felt strange at this display of thoughtful-ness.

“Go sit at the table,” she ordered. “I’ll bring you the coffee.”

He complied, sipped the steamy black liquid, and watched her semi-nude figure swish barefooted back to the stove, “You’re too much, Dorie. You blow as many ways as the wind.”

“I only feel like this once in a while. Sometimes I go the other way and don’t do anything for weeks except lay in bed and wipe out everything with junk.”

He sensed something of an appeal on its way, and cut her off. “Just bring my breakfast. Save the history for later,” he said somewhat abruptly.

She brought the bacon and eggs. “The refrigerator is empty. The milk’s sour and the oranges are green. We should have something to eat if you don’t want me to go into town.”

“I’ll take care of it. You won’t starve.” He began to eat. She watched for a moment, then indicated she was going to shoot up. Stark gulped down the meal and kept track of the time. It was five to ten. His show had to get on the road. He went to the bedroom door and leaned inside. Dorie was still in the bathroom.

“I’m leaving, baby,” he called. “It’ll be a long day. You could go for a swim in the afternoon. It’ll get hot later.”

Laughter erupted from the bedroom.

“In my bra and panties? They’d arrest me for indecent exposure.”

“They might arrest you, but you wouldn’t show them anything indecent… not naked. I forgot you didn’t bring any clothes.” He started to add this to his other problems, but caught himself, and pushed it away. Dorie’s lack of clothes could wait. “Goodbye, baby.”

“What time are you coming back?”

“Not sure. Maybe five. Don’t clock me.”

“I’ll clean the house today. There’s a layer of dust on everything.”

“Don’t bother. I like it the way it is.” Now she wants to set up house? Forget it. He wasn’t at all comfortable with this domestic scene. She was moving in too fast for him.