there, but I spotted Buddy Elder playing pool a split-second before he noticed me. He held his cue stick up threateningly as I walked toward him.
I didn’t care for the gesture and grabbed the thing with both hands. I swung him around like a rag-doll, letting him think I wanted to rip it out of his hands.
When he was moving pretty fast, I simply released my grip. Buddy tripped over a chair and fell back against the wall. His head smacked prettily into the plaster, and he slid down to a seated position. Two men grabbed me from behind. I wrestled free of their hold because they weren’t even in Buddy’s league, and I was just about to get back to Buddy when the doorman stormed into me.
The doorman outweighed me by a hundred pounds.
This turned out to be a good thing, because he simply lifted me up and walked me toward the door with my arms pinned at my side. There was no kindness in this, though I had some hope up to the point that he threw me across the sidewalk.
I had enough presence of mind or beer ingested to roll instead of skid, but it didn’t do me much good, because he came out after me. He didn’t take much of a swing, but his meaty fist got buried in my gut.
After that he walked me back to the building, where he slammed me face-first into the wall. He patted me down, then swung me around and took a long look at my face. ‘You come back in there again and I’ll really hurt you.’
I think the fact that he wasn’t even breathing hard bothered me the most. I nodded my head to let him see that I understood. And I did. As soon as I could breathe again, I fully intended to go back to Buddy Elder’s apartment and wait for him to show up there.
I had done a lot better with Buddy.
I didn’t get the chance though. I was still working on breathing when three men came outside. I had the impression Buddy was one of them, but I wasn’t sure at first. The Slipper faced a fairly busy street. When they took me away from the building I thought they just might throw me into the traffic. Instead, they took me to the side of the building and back into the shadows. I ended up on the ground without much trouble on their part. The first kick was the worst. It landed just under my ribs and paralyzed me. I heard a voice over me. ‘Look at me.’ I expect he repeated himself a few times before I could actually focus enough to do as he asked. I looked up. I could see nothing but a mass of shadow where his face should be. ‘You come after me again, Dave, and I’m going to have to kill you.’ It was Buddy Elder’s voice, nicely punctuated with a kick in the face. His friends kicked my thighs and buttocks, a genuine ass kicking.
When I was about the texture of meatloaf I heard Buddy tell them, ‘I’ll take it from here.’ I was half- conscious, but I did not particularly relish the thought of being left alone with Buddy. Buddy squatted next to my face and pushed a cold piece of metal against my jaw. His voice had the sweetness of a lover. ‘This here gun is cold, Dave. I could say you pulled it on me, and I was fighting to get it away from you when it went off. There’s nothing the cops would do to me either. You want to know why I don’t pull the trigger?’
I didn’t answer. I recall thinking he wouldn’t kill me, but I knew even then that was exactly what he intended to do, in his own good time.
‘I said, “Do you want to know why I don’t pull the trigger?’’’
This was my cue to say something clever or brave.
I said, ‘Why?’ Even wasting that much breath hurt.
‘Because I’ve got plans for you, Dave. You and me… we’re going to have some fun before I’m finished with your ass.’
With that he stood up and pissed on me.
I tried to roll over, but I only managed to give him a better target. I lay there after he left and I felt more profoundly discouraged than at any time in my life. I don’t know if I got to my feet two or three minutes later or if I blinked out for a quarter of an hour. I do know that I came out of the alley just as the police pulled up to the kerb. I was pretty well softened up, and after they had patted me down and cuffed me they got me into the back of their car without breaking a sweat.
I saw the doorman talking to them, and when I looked again, apparently having passed out for a few seconds or what seemed like seconds, they were gone.
I assume they were inside taking statements. At the time I was so entirely disoriented I tried to reach for the ignition of my truck. The handcuffs promptly brought me back to reality.
The booking process was delayed long enough for me to be stripped of my clothes and given a shower.
One of the jailers was a former student of mine, a pretty good writer, actually. He checked my bruises and told me he didn’t think anything was broken. I got a clean jail uniform and a cell with four other drunks. They weren’t bad sorts, as it turned out, and we ended up telling stories until dawn.
Chapter 9
I had been given the chance to make a phone call sometime around midnight. I dialled our home number and got the answering machine. Arrested, I said. City jail. Call Gail Etheridge first thing tomorrow morning. As an afterthought I added, ‘…please.’
The following morning I shuffled in chains through an underground tunnel to the county courthouse, a nineteenth century relic full of various courtrooms and offices. Gail Etheridge met me outside the circuit court.
The sight of her reassured me. She didn’t really smile.
It was more like a smirk. ‘Rough night?’
She was talking about my face, which still had an imprint of Buddy Elder’s boot. ‘I’ve had worse,’ I lied.
‘What happened?’
‘Denise Conway’s boyfriend.’
Gail made a face. I expect she was calculating the effect on my case at the university. When it was my turn, we went up before the bar and sat at a small table. At that point an investigator for the prosecutor gave a reasonably accurate summation of my actions at The Glass Slipper. The judge, an old grey-haired dog in robes, listened to the narrative with some interest, asked for some clarification, specifically on the condition of my intended victim and the amount of property damage. Finally, he turned his attention to me.
He was a man in his late fifties with the indelible signs of a man worn out by routine. I was therefore a rather interesting exception to his day. ‘Dr Albo,’ he said with something akin to a sigh, ‘my impression is that last night was a bit out of character for you. Would you say that is the case?’ I looked at Gail. Her expression indicated I should answer the judge.
I tried to assure him that it was, but my voice cracked, and it took a couple of tries.
He looked down at his notes. ‘Joseph Elder, Buddy, is one of your students?’ I said that he was. The judge considered this fact for a moment. ‘You have any idea how the two of you can avoid another incident of this nature?’
‘I’d be surprised if he didn’t drop my class.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
‘We’re not going to have any problems, Your Honour.’
‘Make sure you don’t, Dr Albo. You come into my court with another incident involving that young man and I’m going to feel like I made a mistake this morning.’
I felt a flutter of hope.
‘I don’t like to make mistakes. What is more, the voters don’t like it when I make mistakes. Are we clear on that?’
‘Yes, Your Honour.’
‘I’m going to ask you to make two promises to me this morning. First, that you’ll stay out of The Glass Slipper for as long as I sit on this bench. Second, that you’ll avoid any sort of confrontation with Mr Elder.
Can you do that?’
‘I can.’
‘Can you promise it?’
‘I promise, Your Honour.’
