Down in the Zero

I walked around the barrel, facing her. She looked up, craning her neck, tendons standing out, psycho eyes dry iced.

'Did that hurt?' I asked her.

'Yes!'

'The pain's not over,' I told her, holding up the hypodermic needle so she could see it.

'What…what is that?'

'Don't you recognize it, Charm? It's your serum. Your special little suicide drug. Time to find out if it works.'

'You …!' she snarled, her body rigid with strain as she fought against the straps.

'Forget it,' I told her. 'It's too late. You got ninety days, Charm. That's the way you set it up, right? Ninety days. To find out the truth. Maybe it works, maybe it doesn't. If it works on you, it'll work on anybody, wouldn't it? You never even thought about killing yourself.'

'I'll kill you,' she said. No emotion— a viper's promise.

'No, you won't do that. See, the same scientist who cracked your code, he's working on an antidote. Maybe he'll get it done in time, maybe he won't. You can't take that chance, can you? Here's the deal. The last deal you'll ever make. I'm walking out of here now. When I get the antidote, I'll call you. And it'll cost you. I figure you can scrape up some serious money pretty quick, especially if you're motivated. How's about two million bucks, you miserable blackmailing bitch? Two million bucks, for your life?'

'I can get it,' she said, calm.

'I know. My man says he's close. Couple of weeks, at the outside.'

'How would I know— ?'

'You won't. You never fucking will. What I want is the money. It's up to you.

'But what if I— ?'

'I'll stay with you,' Fancy said. 'I'll stay with you, Charm. Every minute. I won't let you…kill yourself, I promise.'

'I love you, Fancy,' Charm said.

'I know,' Fancy told her, stroking her sister's face.

It only took me a few minutes to pack the next morning. Sonny was standing outside, patting the Plymouth like he was saying goodbye to it. I gave the command and Pansy jumped inside.

'This came for you. Yesterday, by messenger,' he said, handing me a heavy buff envelope, sealed tight.

'Thanks,' I said, slipping it into my pocket.

'Burke, I can never— '

'Shut up, kid,' I told him. 'I'll be watching for your name in the Grand Prix.'

'Or Daytona, I haven't made up my mind yet.'

'It doesn't matter, Sonny. You found yours, that's what counts.'

He grabbed me in a bear hug, almost cracked my ribs.

I didn't look back. Neither did Pansy.

Back in my office, Pansy prowled her old haunts as I slit open the envelope Sonny had given me. A short note, on thermal fax paper.

Jubal told me. Everything. You did what I asked you to do. I don't know what you think of me, but I love my boy. I know he's safe now. I didn't mean for things to happen like they did. It was just business. We're all square, you and me. No hard feelings.

It was signed 'Cherry.'

Ten days later, a knock at the door of the motel room I was renting in New Rochelle, just south of the Connecticut border.

Fancy stepped in, wearing a severe black business suit, low–heeled pumps, a black pillbox hat on her head. An alligator briefcase was in one hand, as thick as a book bag. She gave me a chaste kiss, walked over and sat on the bed.

'Here it is,' I said, handing her a hypo–ready bottle of blue liquid. 'Draw five cc's, give it to her in the butt.'

'Will it really work?'

'That's what the man says,' I told her.

She nodded, handed me the briefcase. I opened it. Stacks of neatly banded bills, all hundreds. I'd already told them— no sequential serial numbers, used bills. I didn't count it.

'I have to get back soon,' Fancy said. 'I left her tied up. There's no way she could kill herself, but it could get real uncomfortable after a while.'

'That's okay.'

'Well, I guess this is— '

'Not quite yet,' I told her. 'There's one more thing.' She looked a question at me with her deep gray eyes. 'I'd