I parted the drapes on the window. Under the drapes the window was secured with thick wire mesh. I let the drapes drop back in place. I looked over the rest of the room. There was no other way out. I didn't see any signs of a bug, though that didn't mean there wasn't one. On the top of the mahogany dresser was a radio. I turned it on. Loud.
On the bed April was naked except for her knee socks. There were dark bruises on her buttocks that had begun to yellow, her wrists were chafed red. I remembered the time when a girl her age would have excited me. But it was a long time ago-when I was her age. Now it was like looking at a naked child.
I lay down on the bed beside her and put my arm around her and held her close against me and whispered, "My name is not Alley Oop, it's Spenser, and your parents hired me to find you." Her body went rigid and she tried to pull away. I held her against me. I said, "You won't have to do anything you don't want to do. But if you want out of here, I'll take you out."
April was perfectly rigid and silent. I had my mouth against her ear. "I don't know if there's a bug in here, but there could be, so we'll whisper and leave the radio up loud."
"A bug'?" "A microphone for listening to us," I whispered.
"I don't know."
"Now, you want out of here?"
She was silent.
"I think you do," I said. "It couldn't have been fun getting those bruises on your backside."
"Don't you want to fuck me?" she said.
"Nothing personal, but no, I don't. I want to take you out of here and buy you dinner someplace and see what our next step is."
She was still.
"Get dressed," I said, my mouth still against her ear, my arms around her, holding her against me.
"They won't let me go," she said.
"I'll take care of that," I said. I let her go and sat up on the edge of the bed.
"Angelo," she said, still whispering.
"That the disco prince downstairs?"
"Yes."
"He the bouncer?"
"Yes," she said. "He has a gun."
"But is he pure of heart?" I said.
She had slipped her blouse on. She stopped, half dressed. "They won't let me."
"Any other bouncers?" I said.
"During the day just Angelo. He gets off at seven and Monte and Dave come on for the night."
I looked at my watch. Five past five. "Good," I said, "we got them outnumbered."
She had her jumper on now, and her knee socks. She slipped her feet into the penny loafers. "What are you going to do with me after''"
"Buy you dinner, maybe some underwear. First we'll depart."
"Angelo's got a gun," she said again. Always she spoke in a whisper and never did she sound like anything much mattered. Angelo and his gun were a source of anxiety, maybe. But not much.
"I got one too," I said. "Let's go."
We went out her door and down the corridor to the stairs. We were on the landing where they turned when Angelo appeared at the foot. Mrs. Ross was with him. April stopped.
"Come on, babe," I said. "Nobody with blow-dried hair ever gave me trouble." We went down.
At the foot of the stairs Mrs. Ross said, "Through so quickly, sir?"
Angelo stood in front of the door, looking at me carefully. He was obviously a body builder and he was big, but I was bothering him a little. He frowned.
"Ms. Kyle and I are going to dinner," I said. "You know-wine, candles, a little romance. Things are too commercial nowadays, I say."
"I'm sorry," Mrs. Ross said briskly, "the girls are not allowed to date customers. April, go upstairs."
April took a half-step back and I put my hand behind me and stopped her.
"Let's not dick around here," I said. "April's coming out with me and Angelo isn't good enough to stop us."
I hadn't bothered Angelo enough. He underestimated me. He put his left hand flat against my chest and shoved, the way he would have some guy in town for a convention. I took his wrist in my left hand and yanked his arm straight out across my body. I put my right hand against his elbow and levered him sprawling against the stairs. I kept hold of his wrist as he fell and turned his arm up behind him. Then I got hold of his hair with my right hand and dragged him back up to his feet and held him with his arm bent up and his head pulled back.
"Open the door, April," I said.
"No," Mrs. Ross said, and April froze.
I took a deep breath. "Always the hard way," I said. I shoved Angelo away from me and into Mrs. Ross. They both went down, Mrs. Ross backward, Angelo on top of her. By the time they got straightened out, I had my gun pointing at them and the door open for April.
Angelo's breath was rasping in and out.
Mrs. Ross said, "You dumb cocksucker, you've gotten yourself in really big trouble. You don't know who owns this place, but you'll find out." Her voice was hissing as she spoke.
I gestured at the door with my head. "Come on, babe, let's go."
April didn't look at Mrs. Ross. She walked straight out the door without looking at anything.
I said, "If anybody sticks a nose out this door, I will put a bullet into his or her sinuses."
Mrs. Ross was working on her theme. "Dumb motherfucker," she hissed.
I backed out, closed the door, took April by the arm, and dragging her with me, ran like hell up Angell Street.
Chapter 16
It took about a half hour for us to walk back to the Biltmore Plaza. It was cold and April had no coat. We couldn't find a cab, so I had to give her my jacket. That left the .38 in its hip holster out in the open air and several people looked at me askance as we went by. When we got to the lobby I retrieved my coat and covered the gun.
It took me a half hour to pack, check out, get my car, and head for home. In that time April had said not a word, but she stuck close to me. When we were heading up Route 95, I said "Dinner in Boston, okay?"
"Okay,'.
"Ever been to the Warren Tavern?"
"No."
"It's in Charlestown, good place. Old. Food's good." She didn't say anything. I wasn't too worried about Mrs. Ross and the friendly folks who owned the sheep ranch. It was probably connected, and Angelo was probably a mob watchdog. But they didn't know who I was, and they probably had a good supply of teenage whores. I checked the rearview mirror occasionally, but no one had followed us, and no one was following now.
"You going to take me home?" Her voice was louder than it had been in her room but not more animated.
"If you want me to."
"What if I don't?"
"I won't."
"They hired you to make me come home."
"Actually, to find you."
"You'll make me go home."
"hope.'
"I won't stay."
It was dark now. We crossed the state line into Massachusetts at Attleboro. "That bad at home?" I said.
She was quiet.
"Worse than the sheep ranch?"
Out of the corner of my eye I could see her shrug.
"How'd you get those chafe marks on your wrists?" I said.
"Lots of guys like to tie you up when they do it," she said in her small monotone.
"And the bruises on your butt?"
"Some guys like to paddle you."
Route 95 had a wide dividing strip. The cars heading south were barely noticeable and not many cars were heading north. There was just the two of us in the small car, talking in the dark.
"And home's worse than that?"
"When you're not working, they leave you alone."
"Except you couldn't leave," I said.
"They left you alone. And…" Her voice stopped. "You like the life?"
"Sure. Nobody hassles you. Nobody tells you what to do."
"Except occasionally some stranger ties you up and hits you with a 'stick."
"Yeah. They do other stuff too."
"I imagine," I said.
"You want to hear about it?"
"If you want to tell me."
She struggled again. "Some guys like to hear about it."
"I'm not one of them," I said. "If you want to talk about it, I don't mind hearing."