"We'll check the publishing houses," Janek said to Aaron.
Carlson's response was touchingly grateful. "I was hoping you'd say that. The other guy, Stiegel-that didn't seem to occur to him."
"You're in good hands now, Mr. Carlson," Aaron assured him.
But Carlson seemed obsessed with the girclass="underline"
"She came out of the rain like a phantom. I remember thinking, as we walked back to my place: ', say what you like about New York, life here sure can be sweet." See, there I was, sitting in my pub, in my usual depressed state, staring at the door, hoping something interesting might happen and knowing in my heart that nothing would, when this blond creature suddenly waltzes in out of the sorrowful, soggy night. Slim, gorgeous, the girl I'd been waiting for… oh, probably the last five years. There she was at last, the prowling '-wolf type' I keep reading about in magazines but never seem to meet. And if that wasn't enough, she lets me pick her up. And after an hour or so of gab she starts talking about taking off our pants. It was unbelievable, like something out of a movie, or a dream… "You liked her?"
"I was crazy about her! She seemed like a really great girl. The kind you dream about, maybe even fall in love with." Carlson paused. "Notice I say ' kind." When I think back I keep coming up with the idea that she was a certain kind of girl, a certain type. And, of course, that was the core of her act-she was much too good to be true."
Carlson closed his eyes. "Something incredibly frightening about being put to sleep by a stranger. I'd picked her up a couple of hours before.
Actually she picked me up; I understand that now. The stuff she told me-the lines were so good I could have written them myself So, anyway, I lured her up to my apartment. At first she pretended she wasn't all that eager. I had to talk her into it. Then she made that remark about taking off our pants, so casually, so naturally, I couldn't believe my ears. It was so damn sexual. Soon as she said it I got incredibly turned on.
Common sense-forget it! I just wanted to get her up to my place and make crazy love to her for hours. So there we were a few minutes later, sitting opposite one another in my living room. She starts touching herself, her hair, her breasts. Then she sticks out her legs. By this time I'm going nuts. Then, suddenly, I start to drift off. Then I notice she's staring at me, her eyes just the way they are in the sketch here, looking at me like I'm some kind of pinned-down bug. That's what struck me-the way she watched me, curious, very curious, like she was waiting to see how I'd react. That's when I knew she'd spiked my drink. But it was too late to fight it-I was going under fast. I knew in a few seconds I'd be in her power. I knew, too, there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I didn't know what her game was or what she was capable of doing. All I knew was that I was going to belong to her. I was utterly, totally terrified." it was strange, Janek thought, the way Carlson described the girl's eyes in the sketch. He himself could see no evil in them. He could see only fragility and hurt.
Carlson shook his head. "I remember I tried to strike out at her. My arms felt like lead. I tried to stand but it was like I was wearing… cement boots. All I remember of those last few seconds is the way she was peering at me. So curious, so very curious… " Carlson smiled to break the spell. "Well, I woke up. Thank God!
Believe me, I was grateful. Even when I found myself in that strange position on my couch, pants down, shirt open, watch gone, credit cards and IDs spread out neatly on the coffee table. Then, on my way to the bathroom, I noticed the way she had my stuff arranged on the bed. She'd made a design out of my things, and she'd cut away the pouches on my jocks. There was a nasty message conveyed by that: ' could have castrated you." That's how I took it. Then I saw all my personal stuff-letters, family w photos-spread around in this strange, orderly way. From that I got her second message: ' know all about you, but you don't know shit about me." So, okay, I stumbled on into my bathroom, and then, when I looked at myself in the mirror, I got her final message, the big one she wrote directly on my skin.
"At first I was scared. She'd used red ink. I thought: '! She carved me up. That's my blood!" Then I saw what she wrote, and, of course, every word of it was true. ' are a total jerk." Like, yeah!
I was! She knew it and she wanted me to know she knew it, too. So, okay, that was her major message. A warning: ' acted like an asshole, you got what an asshole gets. But, you better believe this, it could have been a lot worse!" I remember I smiled. I was very ashamed but also extremely grateful she'd spared my life. I figured I got off easy. I could chalk the incident up to experience. Why bother with the cops? You guys have enough to do. I could afford the loss. I'd learned my lesson. So why pursue it, right?"
"But you did pursue it, Mr. Carlson," Janek said.
Carlson nodded. "You bet I did! Over the next few days I thought a lot about what she'd done, how deep she'd gotten into me and how much worse it could have been. What if she'd given me an overdose? I could've died."
Janek studied Carlson. "There's more to it, isn't there?"
Carlson nodded again. "It was the writing. I couldn't get over the way she handled that, like she knew exactly what I was going to do. Wake up, stumble into the bathroom, look at myself in the mirror. So, very thoughtfully she wrote the message in mirror-writing. Think about that.
It's pretty amazing. It establishes total control. It also told me that it was important to her that I see myself through her eyes.
I was a jerk, a sucker-so she put a dunce's cap on my head. It's like she knew exactly what to do, played her game to a fault. She was… I don't know, almost superhuman. That's why I think she's dangerous, Lieutenant. Why I think she's got to be stopped."
"We'll stop her," Aaron said.
"Stiegel told me there's a ring of these girls. ' girls,' he called them. ' to guys all the time."
" Carlson's smile turned ironic, but Janek saw a haunted bitterness in his eyes. "What're you going to do? The city's falling apart. It's the new Calcutta, the new Beirut. Who cares if some magazine writer got rolled and it freaked him out? I mean, shit! The bridges are crumbling, the tunnels are corroding, the subway's a nightmare, the infrastructure's shot. In the parks, gangs go on wildings. Kids shoot each other in the schools. So, what's the big deal? I wasn't wounded. No blood was spilled. I've just got a little anxiety, that's all. But, I'll tell you something"-Carlson lowered his voice-"I'm planning to leave this place soon as I can. I'll probably end up in the suburbs doing corporate writing, annual reports, boring stuff I wouldn't have touched before." He laughed. "Who'll care, right?
I'm alive. A guy gets mugged and decides to leave-why should anyone care about that?"
Janek studied Carlson. The man had been deeply injured. "We care," he said softly.
"Yes, thank you. I can see you do. You're very kind." Carlson paused. "I don't sleep too well these days. I figure I was this close." He held his thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch apart. "Just this close to death..
Descending in the elevator, Aaron glanced at Janek. "To hear him tell it, we're looking for the most evil woman that ever lived."
"That sure is the way he sees her," Janek agreed. Out on the street he told Aaron he wanted to know everything there was to know about the "bad girls."
"How ' a briefing from Stiegel?"
"Do you know him?"
"I met him couple of times. Typical low-end detective."
"Have Sue get in touch with him, line up a meeting for me around six."