'Does she usually go dark or red?'
'She takes turns. I've seen her as a blonde too.'
'When did you last see her?'
'Maybe three weeks ago.'
'Who runs her?'
'Whoever wants to-she's an idiot.'
The Chinaman sensed that he meant it literally. 'Retarded?'
'Or close to it. It's not obvious-she looks fine, very! adorable. But talk to her and you can see there's nothing] upstairs.'
'Does she make up stories?'
'I don't know her that well, Lee. She connected to thej Butcher?'
The Butcher. Fucking press.
'Little Hook says he'd been running her.'
'Little Hook says all sorts of shit.'
'Could he be?'
'Sure. I told you she's an idiot.'
'Where does she come from?'
'Hell if I know.'
The Chinaman placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder.
'Where's she from, Charlie?'
'Go ahead, beat me, Lee,' said Charlie wearily. 'Why the hell would I hold back? I want this thing cleared up more than you do.'
The Chinaman took hold of Charlie's shirt, rubbed the synthetic fabric between his thumb and forefinger, half expecting it to throw off sparks. When he spoke, his voice was knotted with tension.
'I doubt that, asshole.'
'I didn't mean-' Charlie sputtered, but the big man released him and walked away, heading back toward the Damascus Gate in a long, loose, predator's stride.
'What's so interesting down there?' the girl called from bed.
'The view,' said Avi. 'There's a beautiful moon out tonight.' But he didn't invite her to share it.
He wore skintight red briefs and nothing else, stood on the balcony and stretched, knowing he looked great.
'Come on in, Avraham,' said the girl, in her best sultry voice. She sat up, let the covers fall to her waist. Put a hand under each healthy breast and said, 'The babies are waiting.'
Avi ignored her, took another look across the courtyard at the ground-floor apartment. Malkovsky had gone in three hours ago. It was doubtful he'd be out again. But something kept drawing him back to the balcony, making him think magically, the way he had as a child: An explosion would occur the moment he withdrew his attention.
'Av-ra-ham!'
Spoiled kid. Why was she rushing? He'd already satisfied her twice.
The door to the apartment remained closed. The
Malkovskys had finished their meal by eight, singing Shabbat songs,in an off-key chorus. Fat Sender had come waddling but once at eight-thirty, loosening his belt. For a moment Avi thought he was going to see something, but the big pig had simply eaten too much, needed air, a few extra centimeters around the waist. Now it was eleven-he was probably in bed, maybe mauling his wife, maybe worse. But in for the night.
Still, it was nice out on the balcony.
'Avi, if you don't come here real soon, I'm going to sleep!'
He waited a few moments, just to make sure she knew she couldn't push him around. Gave one last look at the apartment and walked inside.
'Okay, honey,' he said, standing at the side of the bed. He put his hands on his hips and showed off his body. 'Ready.'
She pouted, folded her arms across her chest, the breast tops swelling with sweet promise. 'Well, I don't know if I am.'
Avi peeled off his briefs, showed himself to her, and touched her under the covers. 'I think you are, my darling.'
'Oh, yes, Avi.'
Friday, at ten-thirty in the morning, Daniel called Beit Gvura. Though the settlement was near-midway between Jerusalem and Hebron-phone connections were poor. A chronic thing-Kagan had protested it on the Knesset floor, claimed it was all part of a government conspiracy. Daniel had to dial nine times before getting through.
