“Like I told you on the phone, we cater to the NAMBLA crowd-man-boy discipline, that sort of thing.”
“In what capacity?” Bernie said.
“We’re producers,” I said. “We specialize in the type of product you specialize in, on the distribution end.”
“And how do you know of me?”
“The network,” I said mysteriously, and with a wink.
“But we ain’t no punks, now,” Donny said.
“It hurts him to fart,” McGinnes said, giving a quick head jerk toward Donny.
Bernie Tobias looked oddly at Donny, and then the phone rang on his desk. He excused himself, got up to answer it. LaDuke and I simultaneously shot killer looks at Donny and McGinnes. Tobias raised his voice into the phone, hung it up, and returned to his seat.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really don’t have much time today. There’s a lot going on.”
“We won’t keep you,” I said. “But I just wanted to let you in on what we’re doing. As far as production values go, we’re doing the highest-quality videos for the broadest customer base of anyone else on this coast.”
“But I’m very satisfied with what I have,” Bernie said. “I deal with only a couple of suppliers. They’re local, so there’s never any problem in getting merchandise quickly. And they know just what I want-this discipline th dihey knowing is really taking off for me right now, I’m telling you. It’s legal, too-no penetration shots, no actors who are obviously underage.”
“Not obviously underage,” LaDuke said.
“Well, you have to know how to straddle that line, don’t you?”
“Of course,” LaDuke said, struggling to form a smile.
“Your suppliers,” I said, “they wouldn’t be the Brontman Brothers, out of Northwest, would they?” I had seen a sign for Brontman Bakers on a storefront on the way downtown.
“No,” Bernie said, distracted by Donny, who had gotten out of his chair and picked up one of Tobias’s trophies off the shelf. “I don’t even know them. Look, Mr.-”
“Jefferson,” Donny said.
“Mr. Jefferson, please put that down, it’s my son’s-”
“Mr. Tobias,” McGinnes said, warming to it now, “you sure you’re not getting your product from the Brontmans? Because I know-I know — that our product has ten times the value-”
“Sir,” Bernie said, “I’m getting most of my product out of Southeast right now, the Buzzard Point area. Some of my stuff comes out of an apartment house in Silver Spring. I mean, I know where my product’s coming from.”
“We wouldn’t suggest otherwise,” LaDuke said. “But aside from the fact that we offer the best value for the money, we also offer a steady supply of product. New titles every two weeks.”
“I’ve even got you there,” Bernie said. “My suppliers, they shoot one night a week, deliver me new product each Saturday. I couldn’t be happier with the situation I’ve got.”
“They shoot on what night?” I said, and saw from the exasperated look on Tobias’s face that I had pushed it too far.
He breathed out slowly, let his composure creep back in. “Gentlemen, I know what you’re trying to do here. You’re trying to pump me for information, gain some kind of competitive advantage so you can come back to me with a program. But that’s not the way I do business.” Tobias smiled genially. “Listen, the next time you’re in town, bring some samples of your product. We’ll have a look, sit down, work on some pricing. If I like what I see, who knows, maybe we’ll make a deal. In the meantime, I’ve really got to get back to work.”
“Fair enough,” I said, and pushed myself up from my chair. My associates followed suit. I shook Tobias’s hand.
“Thanks for your time, Mr. Tobias,” I said. “We’ll be in touch.”
“I’m sure you will,” Bernie said. “You fellows have an unusual style, by the way.”
“We try,” I said. “Thanks again.”
LaDuke went to shake Tobias’s hand. I heard a bone crack, and Tobias jerked his hand back.
“You’ve got a hell of a grip,” Bernie said with a nervous chuckle. “That’s my golf hand, you know.”
“Sorry,” LaDuke said. “I’m stronger than I look, I guess.” He smiled, his teeth bared like a dog’s. We walked from the room, leaving Tobias staring at his hand.
DARNELL DROVE US BACK to the lot of Goode’s White Goods. Donny and McGinnes got out of the car, and I got out with them. The heat rose off the black asphalt of the lot. I put fire to a smoke.
“How’d I do?” Donny said. He looked shrunken in his clothes, his mouth screwed up to one side.
“You did good,” I said. “When I get paid on this one, I’ll send you and Johnny a little piece of it.”
“At your service.” Donny looked at Darnell through the open window of the Ford and said, “My brother.” Darnell smiled, and Donny stepped across the parking lot, toward the double glass doors.
McGinnes said, “Told you he was all right.”
“Thanks, man. Thanks for everything.”
“Hey, you and me…” McGinnes shuffled his feet. “Nothing to it.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “By the way, No Damn Good’s got an opening on the floor. Any interest? You can’t keep doing this sideline thing of yours forever.”
“It’s not a sideline,” I said. “It’s what I do.”
“Right,” McGinnes said, unconvinced. “Just thought I’d ask.”
“You wouldn’t want me to take the food out of your mouth, would you?”
“Wouldn’t want that.”
“Take it easy, Johnny.”
“You too, Jim.” McGinnes grinned. “Better get my ass back inside. The little bastard’s probably in there stealing all my ups.”
He put his hands in his pockets and walked away, whistling through his teeth. I hit my cigarette, dropped it, and ground it under my shoe.
We dropped Darnell back at the Spot, and afterward LaDuke took me back to my place. We sat out front, the Ford idling at the curb.
“Wish we could have gotten more out of Tobias,” LaDuke said.
“We got everything we could,” I said. “And anyway, I think we got plenty.”
“Like?”
“Just a feeling. This thing’s getting ready to bust.”
“You think?”
“Yeah.” I put my hand on the door latch and lightly tapped his arm. “You did all right back there, you know it?”
“I’m catching on.”
“I’ll call you in the morning,” I said. “We’ll put it in gear.”
“Why not tonight?”
“ ’Cause I got to go see somebody right now.”
“On the case?”
“No.”
“What, then?”
“Look, LaDuke, you don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna leave you behind. We’re partners, right?”
LaDuke smiled, sat a little straighter behind the wheel. I got out of the car, rapped the roof with my knuckles, and walked toward my apartment as he pulled out from the curb. Some electric guitar and a screaming vocal cut the quiet of the early-evening air. If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn LaDuke had turned his car radio on, and was playing it loud as he drove away.
FIFTEEN
My uncle Costa is not my uncle. He is not my father’s brother, or my grandfather’s, or a distant cousin, and
