The Grifters

She heard a sound, something between a laugh and a snort, anger and admiration. Then, he lit the cigarette and placed it between her lips.

As they rode on, she could sense the looks he slanted at her, almost see the workings of his mind. She was a problem to him. A very special and valued employee, one whom he actually liked, had yet erred badly. It was unintentional, her one serious mistake in more than twenty years of faithful service. So there was strong argument for forgiveness. On the other hand, he was showing unusual forbearance in allowing her to live, and more hardly seemed to be indicated.

Obviously, there was much to be said for both sides of the debate. Having forgiven so much, he could forgive completely. Or having forgiven so much, he need forgive no more.

They were almost at the hotel before he reached his decision.

'I got a lot of people working for me, Lilly. I can't have things like this happening.'

'It never happened before, Bo.' She fought to keep her voice level, free of any hint of begging. 'It won't happen again.'

'It happened once,' he said. 'With me, that's practically making a habit of it.'

'All right,' she said. 'You're calling the shots.'

'You got any kind of long coat in the car? Anything you can wear home over your clothes?'

'No.' A dull ache came into her stomach.

He hesitated, then said it didn't matter. He'd lend her his raincoat. 'Ought to be right in style out here. Goddamnedest sloppiest- looking women I ever seen.'

She stopped the car at the hotel entrance, and an attendant took charge of it. Bobo handed her out to the steps, then courteously gave her his arm as they entered the building. They crossed the lobby, Bobo holding himself very erect, and entered the elevator.

He had a suite on the fourth floor. Unlocking the door, he motioned for her to precede him. She did so, letting her body go limp, preparing herself for what she knew was coming. But you could never prepare for a thing like that-not fully. The sudden shoveblow sent her hurtling into the room, stumbling and tripping over her own feet. And finally landing in a skidding sprawl on the floor.

As she slowly picked herself up, he locked the door, drew the shades, and entered the bathroom, emerging immediately with a large towel. Crossing to the sideboard, he took a number of oranges from a bowl of fruit, dropped them in the towel and pulled up its ends to form a bag. He came toward her, swinging it loosely. Again, Lilly tried to brace herself with limpness.

She knew the oranges. She knew all such gimmicks, though never before had she been the victim of any. The oranges was an item from the dummy- chuckers' workbag, a frammis of the professional accident fakers.

Beaten with the fruit, a person sustained bruises far out of proportion to his actual injuries. He looked badly hurt when he was hardly hurt at all.

But he could be hurt. If he was hit hard enough and in certain areas of his body. Without feeling much pain at the time, he could have his internal organs smashed. Used in just the right way (or the wrong way), the oranges produced much the same effect as an enema or douche of plaster-of-paris.

Bobo drew closer. He stopped in front of her. He moved to one side and little behind her.

He gripped the towel with both hands. And swung.

And let the oranges spill harmlessly to the floor.

He gestured.

She bent to pick up the fruit. And then again she was sprawling. And his knees were in her back and his hand was against her head. And she was pinned, spreadeagled, against the carpet.

A couple passed in the hallway, laughing and talking. A couple from another planet. From the dining room-from another world- came the faint sound of music.

There was the click of a cigarette lighter, the smell of smoke. Then, the smell of burning flesh as he held the glowing coal against the back of her right hand. He held it with measured firmness,just enough to keep it burning without crushing it out.

His knees worked with expert cruelty.

The cigarette burned into her hand, and his knees probed the sensitive nerves of her spine.

It was a timeless world, an endless hell. There was no escape from it. There was no relief in it. She couldn't cry out. It was impossible even to squirm. The world was at once to be endured and unendurable. And the one possible relief was within her own small body.

Scalding urine spurted from her loins. It seemed to pour from her in a flood.

And Bobo stood up, releasing her, and she got up and went into the bathroom.

She held her hand under the ice-water tap, then patted it with a towel and examined it. The burn was ugly, but it didn't appear to be serious. None of the large veins were affected. She lowered her slacks and swabbed herself with a slightly moistened towel. That was about as much as could be done here. The raincoat would cover up her stained clothes.

She left the bathroom, crossed to the lounge where Bobo was seated, and accepted the drink he gave her. He took out his wallet, and extended a thick sheaf of new bills.

'Your five grand, Lilly. I almost forgot.'

'Thanks, Bo.'

'How you making out these days, anyway? Stealing much from me?'

'Not much. My folks didn't raise any stupid kids,' Lilly said. 'I just clip a buck here and a buck there. It mounts up, but nobody gets hurt.'

'That's right,' Justus nodded approvingly. 'Take a little, leave a little.'

'I look on it this way,' Lilly said, shrewdly enunciating his own philosophy. 'A person that don't look out for himself is too dumb to look out for anyone else. He's a liability, right, Bo?'

'Absolutely! You're a thousand percent right, Lil!'

'Or else he's working an angle. If he doesn't steal a little, he's stealing big.'

'Right!'

'I like that suit, Bo. I don't know what there is about it, but somehow it makes you look so much taller.'

'Yeah?' He beamed at her. 'You really think so? You know a lot of people been telling me the same thing.'

Their amiable talk continued as twilight slid into the room. And Lilly's hand ached, and the wet clothes burned and chafed her flesh. She had to leave him feeling good about her. She had to make sure that the score between them was settled, and that he was actually letting her off so lightly.

They discussed several business matters she had handled for him in Detroit and the Twin Cities on her circuitous way to the coast. Bobo revealed that he was only in town for the day. Tomorrow he was heading back east via Vegas, Galveston, and Miami.

'Another drink, Lilly?'

'Well, just a short one. I've got to be running along pretty soon.'

'What's the hurry?! thought maybe we could have dinner together.'

'I'd like to, but…'

It was best not to stay, best to quit while she was ahead. She'd been very, very lucky apparently, but luck could run out on you.

'I've got a son living here, Bo. A salesman. I don't get to see him very often, so…'

'Well, sure, sure,' he nodded. 'How's he making out?'

'He's in the hospital. Some kind of stomach trouble. I usually visit him every night.'

'Sure, naturally,' he frowned. 'Gettin' everything he needs? Anything I can do?'

Lilly thanked him, shaking her head. 'He's doing fine. I think he'll be getting out in a day or two.'

'Well, you'd better run along,' Bobo said. 'A boy's sick, he wants his mother.'