Footsteps of the Hawk

'No way, Jose' The Prof slammed the door on that one. 'We got nothin' but time, boy. Just lay in the cut, stay out the rut, okay?'

'Yeah, okay,' Frankie said. 'But if I'm gonna get paid, I should— '

'Do what the boss says,' the Prof finished for him.

We watched the end of the fight. Half of what the Prof was rapping didn't make sense to me, but Max seemed to follow it easily. Maybe having no audio was a help.

When the tape was finished, I pulled Frankie aside. 'I could use some help on something,' I said, keeping my voice neutral.

'Sure! I mean, if it's okay with the Prof.'

'Let's ask him,' I said, putting a hand on Frankie's shoulder, walking him into a quiet corner.

'How's this?' Frankie asked me, a wide grin spreading across his face. He was at the wheel of a white Cadillac Eldorado coupe, parked in the open area on West Street, south of Fourteenth, just off the Hudson.

'An El D. is all right with me,' the Prof endorsed, offering the kid a high–five.

I didn't ask him where he got the car— right about then, I didn't want to know.

'You sure the ho' will show?' the Prof asked me.

'She's a Hoosier, brother,' I told him. 'Never passed Hooking 101— she won't even look in the back seat. Take my car,' I told him. 'If Morales makes a move, you're clean, okay?'

'Let's play,' the little man said.

Max and I folded down the back seat so it was flat— a nice feature to have in your car if you wanted to carry a set of skis. We climbed in, then lay down with our feet toward the back of the trunk, Max behind the passenger seat, me behind Frankie.

'This is gonna be just fine,' I said to the kid, pulling a light army blanket over me and Max. If you looked into the back seat, all you'd see would be a big empty space. 'Keep the windows up,' I said. 'We got to do at least one drive–by, so I can be sure you pick out the right one.'

'Got it,' the kid said, pulling away surprisingly smoothly for an unlicensed amateur.

On Tenth Avenue, I leaned close to Frankie's ear. 'Look, kid,' I told him, 'the way these girls work, it's always from the passenger side of the street. They'll come over, lean into the window, see what's happening, all right?'

'Yeah.'

'It's almost impossible to see into these windows with all that tint they got on them. I'm gonna just slide up…here! Okay, now, slow and steady. You're a man looking for a piece of ass, checking out the merchandise, okay?'

'I got it,' the kid said, a little tightness in his voice.

We made her on the second pass. Roxanne, still working the same block. Couple–three weeks, she was probably the veteran girl on that stroll by now.

'You got her?' I asked Frankie. 'The white chick in the red shorts, white top?'

'Yeah.'

'Okay, one more spin, you make the swoop. I'm going under the blanket now. We hear the car door close, we know you got her. Head for West Street, downtown— we'll make our move soon as we hear you say 'hotel,' right?'

'Right.'

I slid back, lay next to Max. Felt the Caddy make a couple of turns, then slow to a crawl. Then stop. Faint hissing sound as the passenger window zipped down.

'Hi, honey. You lookin' to party?' Roxanne's voice? No way to tell— after a while, they even sound alike.

'That's exactly what I'm looking for,' Frankie said.

'Where'd you like to go?'

'Around the world,' Frankie told her, his voice deeply laced with the self–important ego of a mid–level Guido. 'And I got the cash for the ticket.'

'Ummmm,' the whore purred. 'That costs a little bit, honey. Would a C–note bother you?'

'Nothin' bothers me,' Frankie bragged. 'Except wasting time. You comin' along or what?'

I heard the door open, heard it slam shut. Felt the Caddy move off. Heard the snap of the central locking system. Okay.

'I know a good place, honey,' Roxanne said. 'It's just over on— '

'Yeah, well, fuck a whole bunch of that outdoor shit,' Frankie said. 'I got a nice place. All fixed up. You're gonna love it.' The Caddy made a left turn, heading downtown.

'I dunno, honey,' the whore said. 'I mean, I'm supposed to call my man if I go off the block. Maybe we could just pull over and— '

'Your 'man,'' Frankie said, his voice dripping sarcasm. 'You mean your pimp, right? You got a nigger pimp, bitch?'

'Hey! Be nice,' Roxanne purred. 'I got rules, just like you. And I really gotta— '

'When you see my hotel room, you won't be— ' Frankie started. I tapped Max's left shoulder and the warrior slid out of his hiding place so smooth and quick I almost didn't see it. By the time I pulled myself out of the back, Max had his right hand completely over the whore's nose and mouth, his left resting on her collarbone. Frankie was driving straight ahead with his good hand on the steering wheel, calm as a rhino watching a jackal.

I pulled myself up so my lips were close to her ear. 'Roxanne,' I whispered, 'it's okay. Nobody's gonna hurt you, all right? All we need are some answers. You give us the answers, we let you out, with a hundred bucks for your trouble. My man is gonna take his hand away from your mouth. Slowly, now…okay? Just be nice and calm. The doors're already locked. Nobody can see into the windows. You act stupid, you scream— anything like that— your neck's gonna get broken. Okay?'

She nodded her head vigorously.

I tapped Max's shoulder again. When he turned, I held up one finger. His big hand came off the whore's mouth. Slowly, like I had promised.

'Don't turn around, Roxanne,' I said quietly. 'This'll only take a minute. You okay?'

'Yes,' she said. Her voice was steady, her breathing shaky. Close enough.

'You know my voice, don't you?' I asked.

'No!' she said quickly. 'I swear I don't— '

'It's all right,' I told her gently. 'Nobody's mad at you. A while back, you asked me to do a job of work for you, remember? You got word to me through Mojo Mary?'

'Yes. But I— '

'Shhhh,' I soothed her. 'Like I said, nobody's mad at you. You used to be an actress, didn't you? That story of yours, about wanting someone to dust your man, that was pretty slick. Very believable. You have a lot of talent, girl.'

'Thanks,' she said, turning around despite the warning, looking me full in the face. No longer afraid, now that I'd recognized her talent. The left side of her face was bruised, the whole eye socket discolored. 'I did act, you know. In school. When I first came here, I— '

'I know,' I told her. 'But right now, we're working on something. You were hired to do a job, that's all. The same as me. The woman who hired you— '

'She told me— '

'The one with the blond wig?'

'Yes! Rhonda. She said all I had to do was tell you, that's all. There wasn't anything else.'

'I know. This man of yours, the one that was supposed to be in jail? What was his name? What was the name the blonde bitch told you to tell me?'

'Hector,' the whore said. 'She told me to say Hector. On Riker's Island. I wasn't really gonna— '

'That's all right, girl,' I said, handing over a hundred–dollar bill. 'Here, take this. Your man treats you like that,' I said, touching my face where hers was bruised, 'maybe you should get on a bus instead.'