“Piss off,” Freda said. “Try someone else.”
The fat man grimaced, then walked down the long street to where other girls were waiting.
Freda leaned against the wall, trying to rest her aching feet. It was now two months since Johnny had died. The money he had given her had run out. She knew she had been extravagant, but she had to have some decent clothes. Nov she was back on the game but Brunswick wasn’t profitable. It was a town full of kinky, elderly men and she had promised herself she would never pander to perverts. But, she told herself, she would now have to save enough money to go either south where the men would appreciate her talents and looks or go north and get into the call girl racket again.
As she leaned against the wall she thought of Johnny: a sweet guy. She could have married him. He and his dream boat! Well, everyone had to have their dreams. All that money… so near… so far!
It began to rain. The street now was deserted. The other girls had called it a night. She opened her shabby purse and checked her money… thirteen dollars.
Well, money was money. She snapped her purse shut and started down the long street towards the tiny room she now called her home.
Toni Capello, who had been watching her for the past half hour, moved after her. His hand slid into his coat pocket and his fingers closed around the bottle of acid.
It was while Freda was undressing that she heard a knock on her door.
Wearily, she pulled on a wrap.
“Who’s there?” she called.
The knock sounded again.
Without thinking, she crossed the room and opened the door.
