'Tony Marcus,' I said.
'Don't know nothing 'bout no Tony Marcus,' Chuckie said.
'Ain't gonna tell you again. Hit the road.'
Chuckie had a gun on the right side of his belt, forward of his hip. I could see the hint of it under his jacket. I was trying to figure out how to push him hard enough to talk without pushing him so hard he went for the gun. Chuckie helped me figure it out.
He put his left hand on my chest and gave me a shove.
'Move it,' he said.
He was grand-standing a little in front of his whores, it was to be expected. But I hate being pushed. I hit Chuckie a left hook and turned my shoulder in and stepped in under his left arm and hit him a right uppercut, under his chin, close to the neck, where I was less likely to hurt my hand. He fell over on his back and I stepped beside him with my gun out and pointing straight down at the bridge of his nose. The whores were giggling nervously.
One of them said, 'Whoa, Mister Chuckie.'
Chuckie lay there, his bell still ringing, trying to get his eyes to focus. I waited. When he could hear me, I spoke to him pleasantly.
'There's a gun on your belt, right side. Take it out with the first two fingers of your right hand. Two fingers only. I see more than two and your brains will make a very small mess on the sidewalk.'
Chuckie hesitated. I thumbed the hammer back. He twitched slightly. Had he been standing it would probably have been a jump, then he took the gun out.
'Slide it toward the gutter,' I said.
'Two fingers only.'
He did and I stepped away from him and picked it up, and put it in my coat pocket. I uncocked my own gun and put it away.
'Now,' I said, 'what I was wondering was, who runs prostitution in town since Tony went to the house of blue lights?'
From flat on the sidewalk, Chuckie gave me an expressionless I'll-get-you-for-this stare. I gave him a gentle kick in the ribs.
'Tony still runs it,' he said.
'From the place.'
'And who helps him on the outside?' I said.
'Tarone.'
'Give me a full name.'
'Tarone Jessup.'
'Thank you.'
I turned to the whores giggling in the doorway.
'Ladies,' I said.
They giggled some more. Nervously, trying not to. Chuckie would probably beat them up if he thought they were laughing at him. I smiled at them.
Chuckie was sitting up now.
'Hey, man,' he said.
'You going to gimme back my gun?'
'No,' I said.
'Piece cost me five hundred dollars, man,' Chuckie said.
'Think of it as rent,' I said, and kept on going.
CHAPTER 35
Hawk located Tarone Jessup the next day and we went to see him in the back room of a video arcade on Ruggles Street. The front room was full of black teenaged boys who stared at me as Hawk and I walked through the room. Tarone's door was open and we went in. There were three men in the room. One at the desk with his feet up, two sitting against the right-hand wall.
'You Tarone Jessup?' Hawk said to the guy at the desk.
'Un huh.'
He was a thin jittery-looking guy with a sharp nose and oval black eyes like a bull terrier.
'I'm Hawk.'
'Knew you were,' Tarone said.
'Who that with you, Casper the friendly ghost?'
The two guys against the wall laughed more loudly than the remark required.
