They spotted him the moment they came back into the bar. Annie knew he was their man. So did Eileen. They headed immediately for the ladies' room.
A black hooker wearing a blonde wig was standing at the sink, looking into the mirror over it, touching up her lipstick. She was a woman in her early forties, Eileen guessed, wearing a black dress and a short, fake fur jacket, going a bit thick in the middle and around the ankles. Eileen was certain she had just come in off the meat rack on the street outside.
"Getting chilly out there, ain't it?" the woman said.
"Yeah," Annie said.
"I'd park in here a while, but Larry gets twenty percent."
"I know."
"My man take a fit I give away twenty percent of the store."
There was a knife scar across the bridge of her nose.
She must have been pretty once, Eileen thought.
"One last pee," she said, and went into one of the stalls.
Annie lighted a cigarette. They chatted idly about how cold it was. The black hooker chimed in from behind the closed door of the stall, reporting on the really cold weather in Buffalo, New York, where she used to work years ago. They waited for her to flush the toilet. They waited while she washed her hands at the sink.
"Have a nice night," she said, and was gone.
"He's our man, isn't he?" Eileen said at once.
"Looks like him."
"Hitting on the wrong hooker."
"You'd better move in," Annie said.
"Sheryl won't like it."
"She'll like a slab even less."
"Will Shanahan know he's here?" Eileen asked.
"He'll know, don't worry."
Eileen nodded.
"You ready for this?" Annie asked.
"I'm ready."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
Annie searched her face.
"Because if you…"
"I'm ready," Eileen said.
Annie kept searching her face. Then she said, "Let's go then," and tossed her cigarette into one of the toilet bowls.
The cigarette expired with a short tired hiss.
He was telling another joke when Eileen took the stool on his right.
Blond. Six-two, six-three. Two hundred and ten easy. Eyeglasses. A tattoo near his right thumb, a blue heart lined in red, nothing in it.
"… so he says to the old man, 'What's the matter? Why are you crying?' The old man just keeps sitting there on the park bench, crying his eyes out. Finally he says, 'A year ago, I married this beautiful twenty-six-year-old girl. I've never been happier in my life. Before breakfast each morning, she wakes me up and blows me, and then she serves me bacon and eggs and toasted English muffins and piping hot coffee, and I go back to bed and rest till lunchtime. Then she blows me again before lunch, and she serves me a hot, delicious lunch, and I go back to bed again and rest till dinnertime. And she blows me again before dinner and serves me another terrific meal, and I fall asleep until morning when she wakes me up again with another blowjob. She's the most wonderful woman I've ever met in my life.' The guy looks at him. 'Then why are you crying?' he asks. And the old man says, 'I forgot where I
Sheryl burst out laughing.
Eileen was thinking about the dead hookers he'd had in stitches.
"This guy's marvelous," Sheryl said, still laughing, leaning over to talk across him. "Linda, say hello to Bobby, he's marvelous."
"Hello, Bobby," Eileen said.
Terrific name for a slasher, she thought.
"Well, well, well, hello, Linda," he said, turning to her.
"Me and Bobby's running a tab," Sheryl said. "Which by the way, time's almost up."
"That right?" Eileen said.
"Just having a little fun here," Bobby said.
"The real fun comes later, honey," Sheryl said. "This is just the warm-up."
"I hear redheads are a lot of fun," Bobby said. "Is that true?"
"I haven't had any complaints," Eileen said.
She was wondering how she could get rid of Sheryl. If they were running a bar tab…
"But they burn in the sun," Bobby said.
"Yeah, I have to watch that."
"Just don't go out except at night, that's all," Sheryl said. "Listen, Bobby, I hate to be pushy, but your time's running out. You said twenty bucks for twenty minutes, remember?"
"Uh-huh."
"So take a look at the clock. You got about a minute left."
"I see that."
"So what do you say? We're having fun here, am I right?"
"Lots of fun."
"So how about another twenty, take us into Saturday?"
"Sounds like a good idea," he said, but he made no move for his wallet. Sheryl figured she was losing him.
"Matter of fact," she said, "whyn't you put Linda on the tab, too?"
"Thanks, no, I've been drinking too much tonight," Eileen said.
"This ain't a booze tab," Sheryl said. "This is accounts receivable. What do you say, Bobby? Lay a couple of twenties on the bar there, you buy both of us till a quarter past. Double your pleasure, double your fun. And later on, you still interested, we do a triad."
"What's a triad?" he asked.
"I read it in a book. It's like a two-on-one. A triad."
"I'm not sure I could handle two of you," he said.
