‘It’s Disney World, Sea World, and Jungle World, all wrapped up in one,’ The Nosh said with delight. ‘I could let the kids loose in here for hours.’
‘The table in there by the bed has some first-rate machine rolled Colombian grass, Quaaludes, poppers, and some coke that must’ve cost a bill-and-a-half on the street.’
‘You ever get the feeling we’re in the wrong business?’ The Nosh said.
‘Only when I’m awake,’ said Sharky. ‘Let’s get it on.’
‘The plants are perfect,’ The Nosh said. He took one of the button-mikes and slipped the pin into the stem of a broad-leafed calathea plant in a corner of the room. The mike faced the massage table. He ran the wire down along the stem of the plant, securing it with a roll of green tape. Then he pushed the aerial down into the soft earth and brushed loose dirt over it. He opened one drawer of the tool chest and took a small tube of green paint from among many multi-coloured vials and dabbed the mike until it blended into the plant. He stood up and smiled.
‘That’s it. This room is fixed.’
‘What if she waters the plants?’ Sharky asked. ‘Won’t It hurt that equipment?’
‘Nope. All the stuff is coated with silicone, It’s waterproof. Let’s hit the living room.’
He stood in the centre of the room and snapped his fingers several times, checking the ambient sound. ‘Not bad,’ he said, ‘not bad at all. All the furniture, plants, that shit, deadens the room. We won’t get too much bounce. But we gotta keep away from those speakers in the ceiling.’ This time he chose a ficus tree and jabbed the mike into the trunk, close to the dirt. He dabbed it with brown paint, whistling softly to himself as he buried the amplifier. Sharky stood on the balcony, trying to look down at the parking lot, but he could barely see it.
‘Hey, Shark,’ The Nosh said, ‘you remember the time I bugged the teachers’ lounge at Grady and we caught old man Dettman screwin’ the phys. ed. teacher?’
‘Are you kidding? That’s how I passed geometry.’
‘I was just thinkin’ how at the time we thought they were such degenerates. She was a real hunk, Shark. A real hunk.’ He smoothed dirt over the amplifier. ‘Lookin’ back, I can’t say 1 blame old Dettman.’
‘Maybe we should’ve worked out a trade-out with her. Who ever uses geometry anyway?’
‘What was her name?’
‘Old Torpedo Tits.’
‘No, her real name?’
‘Jesus, I don’t remember.’
There was no way to see into the parking lot. He went back into the living room. ‘Old Torpedo Tits,’ The Nosh said, heading into the master bedroom.
Down below, a blue Mercedes 450SL drifted into the complex and stopped in front of the east tower. Sharky’s walkie-talkie came to life.
‘Zebra One, this is Zebra Three,’ Livingston said. ‘You got company.’
‘Okay Nosh, she’s back,’ Sharky said. He pressed the button on his box. ‘Zebra Two, this is Zebra Three. We need a little time.’
‘You got it,’ Papa said.
A porter came out of the building, running through the rain, and held the door for her. She got out, a long silk- sheathed leg preceding her. She stood an inch taller than the porter as she slipped him a dollar.
‘She’s heading for the lobby,’ Livingston said. The Nosh was on his knees, dabbing paint on the mike. ‘I’m wrapping it up,’ he said.
Sharky started to leave the room, then went back to the night table. He opened the drawer, took one of the joints from the cigarette case, and dropped it in his pocket.
‘Let’s hustle, brother.’ The Nosh was checking out his case.
‘I’m missing a paintbrush,’ he said. ‘It’s gotta be right around these plants somewhere.’
‘Shit,’ Sharky said.
Papa had seen the blue Mercedes pull up in front of the apartment, watched as she got out carrying a large Courreges bag, tipped the porter, and then walked through the rain. He pressed several buttons on one elevator and sent it up, then waited in the other one. She entered the building, smiling at the security guard, walking with her chin slightly raised, looking straight ahead with azure eyes that glittered with life. She was taller than he remembered and very straight and as she approached the elevator she looked straight at Papa, but her gaze seemed to go through him, past him, off someplace beyond him. Papa was suddenly embarrassed, not from tension, but because she was prob.. ably the most stunning creature he had ever seen.
Jesus, he thought, no wonder she gels six bills a pop.
She stopped, hesitating a moment at the elevator that was already going up. ‘Going up,’ Papa said. ‘We’re just checking this one out.’
‘Thank you.’
A voice like down feathers.
She stood beside him.
The back of Papa’s neck got very warm. ‘What floor?’
‘Ten, please.’
He pressed the button and the doors closed. The elevator started up. Papa shifted slightly so his body shielded the control buttons and, reaching out very cautiously, he pressed the stop button. The elevator glided to a
