“Recreation.”
She smiled. “Yeah. Being close to the action meant they could make their speeches in the morning, drop by for a lunchtime party, and go back to their speeches with a smile on their faces.”
“They,” said Milo. “How many others besides Massengil?”
“Lots, chief. It’s a company town. Not that fearless leaders was all I did. You had your doctors and your bankers, like any other place. But being there in that place, you did see lots of political types- aides, lobbyists, administrative assistants, all that shit. You learn to talk like them after a while.”
“Fun bunch?”
She grimaced. “Not hardly. I mean, they were free with the buck- expense accounts. But as a group, they had inclinations. If you know what I’m saying.”
“I don’t.”
“Kinky,” she said, as if talking to an idiot. “Mostly for tying-up. Bondage. Always wanting to be tied up or tying me up. Nearly every one of them. Got so when I took one on that I knew was political, I had the neckties and the ropes all ready. A few of them even wanted to be… embarrassed. Dirty stuff. Never seen so many people wanting to tie or to be tied. All horny about who was in charge. Then you’d turn on the TV, see those same faces you just saw all wrinkled up or wearing a leather mask, crying and pleading not to spank ’em, even though that’s what they really wanted- you’d see ’em giving speeches on the TV, going on about law and order, the American way, all that shit. Meanwhile, you’re knowing their idea of law and order is being hog-trussed.”
She laughed, filled her lungs with smoke. “Don’t it just make you want to run out and vote?”
Milo smiled. “Massengil a tyer or a tyee?”
“Tyee. Liked to have his arms and legs all bound up, so tight the blood was cut off. Then he’d stretch out and make me do all the work. Then afterwards, which was quick- with most of them it’s real quick”- she snapped her fingers-“I had to snuggle next to him like I was his mama and he’d latch onto my bubbies and talk like some little kid. Baby talk. Oogum snoogums for Mr. Law and Order.”
She laughed again, but looked uneasy.
“Real disillusioning,” she said, “isn’t it. High and mighty types running things, and what they really are is whining, bubby-sucking babies. Then, of course, there’s cops-”
“He ever get racial?”
“What do you mean?”
“Make racist comments? Want to set up some racist fantasy?”
“Nope,” she said. “Just the tying and the oogum talk.”
“How’d you meet him?”
“Through the other one?”
“Dobbs?”
“Uh-huh. He’s a doctor- psychiatrist. Liked to pretend this was all medical. Sex therapy. I should think of myself as his therapy assistant.”
“When’d you first meet Dobbs?”
“My last year in Frisco.”
“How?”
“Had this girlfriend of mine who got into the therapy thing- took a course or something and got this piece of paper saying she was legal. A surrogate. Dobbs taught the course, offered her a job. Used to send her people- patients- have her kick back some of the money to him. She made good, but he made better. Then when she moved out of town because her ex was threatening her, she gave him my name. I moved down to Sacramento and he started sending the people to me.”
“Even though you’re not legal.”
She smiled, “But I’m good, chief. I can be real patient- real therapeutic when I have to.”
“I’ll just bet you can, Cheri. What other politicians did Dobbs send you besides Assemblyman Massengil?”
“Just him,” she said. “It’s like they were special buddies.”
“What kind of special buddies?”
“Not fags or anything. Sometimes a couple of closet fags will use me to get into theirselves- doing a double and then accidentally one of their things brushes up against the other thing and we got a brand-new picture. But not them. They just used to show up, together. Like Sam needed Fatso to lead the way, and Fatso got off on setting things up.”
“He never sent anyone else to you?”
“Not down here.”
“What about Sacramento?”
“Okay, a couple. But after I did a little business with him, I didn’t want to do any more.”
“Why not?”
“He was a pig is why not. With Lorraine he’d taken fifty-five percent. With me he was wanting sixty. Finder’s fee. He said I needed him- his being involved made it legal. Threatening me.” She shook her head and rubbed one knee. “I went indy to get greedy pigs off my back. Told him bullshit, my being involved made it illegal for him and he had a lot more to lose than I did if the shit hit the fan. So we settled on twenty percent. Couple of months later, I had enough of my own business going, anyway. Taking a hundred percent. Didn’t want none of his, even with twenty percent, and told him so.”
“How’d he react to that?”
“Made a face but didn’t argue. And kept seeing me. With Sam. Sam had a thing for me.”
“Was he ever a client himself?”
“Once in a while.”
“Tyer or tyee?”
She shook her head. “All he wanted was wham-bam, Oh Jesus, oh Jesus!, roll his fat butt off, and fall asleep. Mostly he was a watcher- couple of times I caught him peeking through the door when I was with Sam. That gave me the creeps, but I didn’t say a thing. Didn’t cost me anything.”
“Where’s your trick book?”
“No trick book.” She tapped her coiffure. “Everything’s in here.”
“How about your calendar?”
“No calendar either. Each day passes I tear it up in little pieces and flush it down.”
“We’re gonna tear the place apart, Cheri.”
“Tear all you want. There’s no book. And don’t ask me to give you names- otherwise I will go downtown and suck AIDS breath.”
“Who knew Massengil was coming here?”
“No one knew. No one knew about anybody. That’s my specialty- discreetness. And with him I was extra-careful, ’cause he was so nervous about being caught, wouldn’t even leave his car out on the street. When he had an appointment, I cleared my calendar all day so they wouldn’t be running into anyone.”
“Considerate.”
“Fuck considerate,” she said. “I charged ’em for time lost.”
“Speaking of that, what kind of tariff are we talking about?”
“Four hundred an hour.” Wide smile. “More than my lawyer makes and I didn’t have to pass any bar tests.”
“Cash?”
“Nothing but.”
“How often did Massengil see you?”
“Three or four times a month.”
“What was the schedule?”
“What I told you- tying up, nuzzling bubbies, sometimes I’d feed them dinner. Then they’d leave and I had the whole night to myself, watch Johnny Carson.”
Milo said, “That’s not what I meant by schedule, Cheri. Which days of the week did they show up? What routine?”
“No routine. I’d get a call from Sam- or from Fatso- day or two before. Clear the calendar and they’d come by and we’d have a little party.”
“Always the two of them?”
“Always.” She turned thoughtful. “Maybe they were fags, really wanting to do a little dick-rubbing… I don’t know. I just know they never got into that here.”
“No schedule,” said Milo.
“No.”
“So how’d anyone know they were here?”
“Beats me. Maybe somebody followed ’em.”
“Followed ’em here and just waited, huh?”
She shrugged.
Milo said, “How’d the shooter know to wait for them to come out- know that the two of them wouldn’t be spending the night?”
“Not my thing,” she said, “spending the night. No one spends the night.”
“Who’d know that, besides you and your tricks?”
She was silent.
He said, “You’re gonna have to give us that book, Cheri.”