"Yes. Hookers."
"All three?"
"One of them only sixteen years old."
Eileen nodded.
"What'd he use?" she asked.
Annie hesitated.
"A knife," she said.
And suddenly it all played back again in Eileen's head…
Her hand going for the Browning .380 automatic tucked into her boot, Don't force me to cut you, the pistol coming free of its holster, moving into firing position—and he slashed her face. Sudden fire blazed a trail across her cheek. She dropped the gun at once. Good girl, he said. And slashed her pantyhose and the panties underneath…
And…
And thrust the cold flat side of the knife against her… against her…
"Want me to cut you here, too?"
She shook her head.
No, please, she thought.
And mumbled the words incoherently, No, please, and said them aloud at last, "No, please. Please. Don't… cut me again. Please."
"Want me to fuck you instead?"
"Don't cut me again."
Annie was watching her intently.
"Slit their throats with a knife," she said.
Eileen was covered with cold sweat.
"So… I… I guess they want me to play hooker, is that it?" she said.
"That's it."
"New girl in town, huh?"
"You've got it."
"Cruising? Or have they set up… ?"
"They're planting you in a place called Larry's Bar. On Fairview and East Fourth."
Eileen nodded.
"Tonight, huh?"
"Starting around eight."
"That's early, isn't it?"
"They want to give him enough rope."
"Where do I check in?"
"The Seven-Two. You can change there."
"Into what? The hookers today look like college girls."
"Not the ones working the Canal Zone."
Eileen nodded again.
"Has Alvarez picked my backups?"
"One. A big beefy guy named…"
"I want at least two," Eileen said.
"I'm your other one," Annie said.
Eileen looked at her.
"If you want me."
Eileen said nothing.
"I'm not afraid of using the piece," Annie said.
"I know you're not."
"But if you'd feel better with another man…"
"Nothing's going to make me feel better," Eileen said. "I'm scared shitless. You could back me with the Russian army, and I'd still be scared."
"Then don't do it," Annie said.
"Then when do I stop being scared?" Eileen asked.
The room went silent.
"Homicide asked me to get the best decoy I knew," Annie said softly. "I picked you."
"Thanks a lot," Eileen said.
But she smiled.
"You are, you know."
"I was."
"Are," Annie said.
"Sweet talker," Eileen said.
And smiled again.
"So… it's up to you," Annie said, and looked up at the clock. "But you've got to let me know right away. They want everything in place by eight tonight."
"Who's this big beefy guy?"
"His name's Shanahan. Irish as Paddy's underwear, six-feet tall, weighs at least two hundred pounds. I wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley, believe me."
"I would," Eileen said. "I'd like an hour with him before I hit the street. Can he be in the squadroom by seven?"
"You'll do it then?"
"Only 'cause you're the other backup," Eileen said, and smiled again.
But she was trembling inside.
"This guy who killed them," she said. "Do they have any idea what he looks like?"
"Alvarez says he's got some statements that seem to jibe. But who knows what he'll look like tonight? If he comes in at all."
"Terrific," Eileen said.
"One thing for sure, though."
"Yeah?"
"He's passing himself off as a trick."
The saw ripped through wood, ripped through flesh and bone along the middle of the wooden box and the middle of the woman. Blood gushed from the track the saw made, following the sharp teeth. The saw itself was bloody when at last he withdrew it from box and woman. He looked up at the wall clock. 5:05 p.m. He nodded in grim satisfaction.
And lifted the lids on both sides of the box.
And the woman stepped out in one piece, grinning, and held her arms over her head, and the audience began to applaud and cheer.
"Thank you, thank you very much," the man said, bowing.
The audience was composed mostly of boys and girls between the ages of thirteen and eighteen because the performance was being held at the high school on North Eleventh. The principal of the school, Mr. Ellington, beamed contentedly. Hiring the magician had been his idea. A way to keep these restless teenagers happy and occupied for an hour or so before they hit the streets. He would make a little speech after the performance was over, which should be any minute now. He would tell them all to go home and have a good dinner and then put on their costumes and go out for a safe and sane Halloween in the secure knowledge that among the rights granted in a democracy was freedom of assembly—like the assembly they'd had this evening—and also freedom of assembly in the streets, but not the freedom to perform malicious mischief, definitely not. That would be his pitch. The kids, grateful for an hour's entertainment, would—he hoped—follow his directives. No one from Herman Raucher High would become involved in vandalism tonight. Nossir.
He watched now as the magician's assistant rolled the wooden box off the stage. She was a good-looking blonde, in her late twenties Ellington guessed, wearing a sequined costume that exposed to good advantage her long, long legs and her exuberant breasts. Ellington noticed that most of the boys in the auditorium could not take their eyes off the assistant's long legs and the popping tops of her creamy white breasts. He himself was having a little difficulty doing that. She was back on stage now, wheeling a tall box. A vertical one this time. The magician—whose name was Sebastian the Great—was wearing tails and a top hat. Ellington looked up at the clock. This was probably the closing number of the act. He hoped so because he wanted to make his little speech and get the kids the hell out of here. He had promised Estelle he would stop by on the way home from school. Estelle was the lady he stopped by to see every Wednesday and Friday afternoon, when his wife thought he had meetings with the staff. Estelle's legs weren't as long, nor were her breasts as opulent as those on the magician's assistant, but then again Estelle was forty-seven years old.
"Thank you, kids," Sebastian the Great said, "thank you. Now I know you're all anxious to get out there in the streets for a safe and sane Halloween, and so I won't keep you much longer. Ah, thank you, Marie," he said to his assistant.
Her name's Marie, Ellington thought, and wondered what her last name was, and wondered if she was listed in the phone book.
"You see here a little box—well, not so little because I'm a pretty tall fellow—which I'm going to step into in just a moment… thank you, Marie, you can go now, you've been very helpful, let's have a nice round of applause for Marie, kids."
Marie held her hands up over her head, legs widespread, big smile on her mouth, and the kids applauded and yelled, especially the boys, and then she did a cute little sexy turn and went strutting off the stage in her high heels.
"That's the last you'll see of Marie tonight," Sebastian said.
Shit, Ellington thought.
"And in just a few minutes, you'll see the last of me, too. What I'm going to do, kids, I'm going to step inside this box…"
He opened the door on the face of the box.
"And I'm going to ask you all to count to ten… out loud… one, two, three, four, and so on—you all know how to count to ten, don't you?"