Authors: Polly Iyer
A
n ominous feeling settled on Linc as he and Dennis drove back to the city. The description of the black man standing around Rick Martell’s office didn’t ring a bell, it gonged. “Dennis, when you were running down the people who worked for Cooper, didn’t you mentioned the Cockney who worked in Cooper’s office, Colin what’s his name, had a black boyfriend?”
“Yeah. Big guy, ex-boxer. Reggie Cart’s his name. Has a record for assault with a deadly weapon.” Dennis took his hands off the wheel and put up his fists. “His hands. He attacked someone while he was still boxing professionally. You think…”
“Yeah, I do. Now why would he be at Martell’s?”
“I don’t know, but the description sure fits. Why do you think Tawny was there?”
Linc remembered what Harry said. “Tawny knows Russo. Martell worked for Russo. Maybe Martell handled her money, even set up the off-shore account.”
“Plausible,” Dennis said.
Linc got on his cell and called the captain, explained the situation and why he wanted to keep the murder of Rick Martell quiet, at least for a few hours. The captain listened and agreed. Said he’d do what he could to smother the news. Then Linc called Harry. The call went to voicemail.
“Harry, call me back ASAP.” Linc closed his phone. “What bothers me is Tawny’s
at Cooper’s tonight. If Cart saw her at Martell’s, it means she saw him and can identify him as a possible suspect in Martell’s murder.”
“Unless she’s the shooter.”
Linc shrugged that off. “No way. I bet she went there to find out how much she’ll have to pay the IRS.”
“Well, my man, if Colin’s boyfriend killed Martell and Dell saw him, she’s in big trouble.”
As Linc tried Harry again, he noticed brake lights ahead. “Went to voicemail.”
“Uh-oh. Something’s going on up there.” Dennis radioed in to find out. “Four cars.”
“What rotten timing.” All three lanes were at a dead stop.
“If you agree she’s in trouble,” Dennis said, “call for the raid now.”
“If she can pin the murder on this Cart guy, what’s to stop him from silencing her the minute we bust in? I’ll call to warn her.”
“What if she’s in the middle―” Dennis looked sheepishly at him.
“Let’s hope not.” Linc didn’t want to think of that, couldn’t think of it. He’d programmed Tawny’s number to speed-dial. The call went to voicemail. “Doesn’t anyone answer their phones?”
“This traffic is a
mess, Linc. I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck here. I’d put on the siren, but it wouldn’t do any good. We’re too far back.”
Linc tried Harry again. Nothing. He tried Tawny. Same. He wanted to make sure she was all right.
“You’re sweet on her, aren’t you?” Dennis asked.
Linc rubbed his temple. “I must be out of my fucking mind.”
“Happens,” Dennis said.
“What? Falling for a hooker or being out of my mind?”
“Both.”
* * * * *
T
awny knew she should have broken from Benny’s grasp and run for the door. “What are you doing?”
“I’m paying for your services. Does it really matter who pays you? My money’s as good as anyone’s.” He nuzzled into her neck and whispered, “Let me tell you what I like.”
He did, and Tawny said, “I feel like you tricked me. But you’re right. You’re paying, and you should get your money’s worth.”
A moment of guilt struck her like a clap of thunder, and Walsh was the reason. She had the information he wanted. Sarah Marshall worked here. It still didn’t make the man in front of her, breathing like he’d completed a marathon, guilty of murder. And now she was about to engage in a sexual encounter she’d rather avoid.
Because of you, Walsh.
Then why was she feeling like she was betraying him? Betraying herself?
Benny’s voice brought her back. “Let me help you with your dress.”
Once he took it off, she was committed. She pictured Walsh shrugging, his voice clear in her head.
It’s what you do, Tawny.
Did.
Do, Walsh. Thanks to you.
She turned around and Benny unzipped the back of her dress. It fell to the floor. Facing him again, she noticed Benny’s gaze riveted on her like a hunter locks on a ten-point buck. Tawny let him ogle. She wore a lacy black bra and black thong. Nothing else except black sling-backs. Men liked women naked with high heels—it was a dominatrix thing—and Benny possessed all the characteristics of a submissive, or at least a switch. She stepped out of her dress, unsnapped the front clasp of her strapless bra, and let it fall to the floor. Crossing her arms in front of her, she circled her nipples with her index fingers, hardening them so they peaked to attention. Benny watched,
mesmerized.
She’d done this hundreds of times before. Fifteen years’ worth, and yet tonight seemed surreal, as if it were the first time. Nerves. Who’d have thought she’d have them? She didn’t want to do Benny. She wanted out of this room and out of this life.
“My God, you’re beautiful,” he said.
Oh, boy
. “You like what you see?”
Benny gulped. “Like? I’m getting hard looking at you.” He started to move toward her, but she put her hand, palm out, on his chest.
“Not yet, Benny. You’re my slave. Now stand there. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Hmm, slave.” His voice trembled. “I like that.”
Yup, submissive, Tawny thought. When she started to take off his jacket, he stopped her. Fishing in his pocket, he took out nipple clamps.
Tawny plucked them from his fingers and tossed them on the sofa. “Very nice, but I never use toys unless I have to.” She glanced at the swelling protrusion in his crotch. “And unless that’s a dildo in your pants, I doubt you’ll need artificial incentives.”
“That’s because two of the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen are staring me in the face.” He leaned down, pursed his mouth like a goldfish.
“Patience, Benny. Now keep your hands and mouth out of my way for a while, okay? You’ll have your turn.”
“Whatever you say, Tawny. I’m your slave. Ooh, I love the sound of that.”
I can do this one more time.
Just one more time
.
Benny practically drooled in anticipation when she unbuttoned his shirt, one button at a time, and pinched his nipples. “Isn’t my touch better than nipple clips?”
“Oh, God, yes, yes. You have glorious fingers, like flower petals brushing my skin.”
She leaned down and pulled the front panels of his shirt around her head, not
unlike a photographer hiding under the black cover, and sucked hard. Benny moaned.
“We have a ways to go before you should be moaning. A long way.” She played a little longer, then peeled off his shirt.
He wasn’t in bad shape, a little hairy for her tastes, but acceptable for a man of fifty. She unbuckled his belt. He moaned again when she dropped his pants.
“I like them hung up,” he said.
“Servant work costs extra. I don’t do servant work.”
Benny’s breathing ratcheted up a notch. “Okay. I can live with that.” He stepped out of his pants. His erection shot through the opening of his boxers. “I spilled burning coffee on my cock. There’s a blister, so you have to be careful.”
“I’m not heavy into S&M, not that I’d classify bursting a blister on a man’s member S&M.” She took his hand and led him to the bedroom. “Why don’t you relax? Here, sit down on the bed.” When he did, she lifted his legs onto the mattress and stuffed a pillow beneath his knees. “Do you like it rough or easy?”
“Easy to start. Then I like it rough. But don’t forget the blister.”
“I promise, I won’t.” She tweaked her nipples again. Benny gawked, licking his lips. “Oh, Benny, it feels so good. But it’ll feel better when you do it.”
Benny rose and reached for her, but she signaled him off. “What’s the rush? Don’t you enjoy looking at me?”
“I could look at you all day. You’re a Goddess. I’ve always wanted you, but try as I might, I could never get you. This is a dream come true. The ultimate. I’ll pay double for another hour. Triple.”
“You won’t want another hour when I finish with you. You’ll be so exhausted you’ll need to check into rehab to get some rest.”
Benny’s hand went to his dick. “My cock is ready to explode, and you haven’t even touched it yet.”
She perched on the edge of the bed. He reached for her breasts. This time, she let him fondle her. She had to admit he had a nice touch, but he was too eager, and at the rate Benny was panting, he wouldn’t last long. Then she could get the hell out of there.
She slipped off his shorts. “My, my, you’re circumcised. That makes you much more sensitive.”
“I’m Jewish.”
“I’ve only had a few Jewish clients over the years, usually single. Most of the married ones are good family men. They don’t do whores.”
“That’s because their wives would cut off their balls.”
Tawny smothered a smile. “Is that the reason? Figures. So married Jewish men don’t do whores, huh? That’s what I am, aren’t I, Benny? And you love fucking whores, don’t you?” She bit his nipple, and he yelped. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I bite too hard, or don’t you like dirty talk?”
“No, not too hard.” Benny’s breathing moved from panting to the precipice of hyperventilating. “And I love fucking whores who talk dirty. It gets me hot.”
If he got any hotter, he’d burn off Tawny’s fingerprints. She pinched Benny’s nipples with one hand and tickled down his leg with the other, teasing near his member but never touching it.
“Your wife’s a whore, too, isn’t she?”
“Not any more. She only does me.”
“Really. How lucky you are to be such a cheat and have a faithful wife.” Tawny believed the part about the faithful wife like she believed Chicken Little’s warning that the sky was falling.
“Eileen understands me.”
“Yes, she would have to.” Tawny sat up, and zeroed in on Benny’s dick. “Oh, I see the blister now. It must hurt terribly.”
“It does. Maybe you could kiss it.”
“I’m afraid that’s all I can do. If you entered me, that bubble would burst open, and the pain would be excruciating.”
“Jeez, I never thought of that. Do you give rain checks?”
Tawny almost laughed. Who but Benny would think of a rain check? “If you’re not satisfied when I finish with you, we’ll discuss it. For now, I’ll be gentle, work around it with my tongue. I guarantee the pleasure will erase all pain.”
Benny gasped. “The thought of your tongue on my cock is sending shivers all through my body.”
As she was leaning down, the door to the apartment burst open. Tawny got up and turned, unsure what to expect. Eileen Cooper, Colin, and the big black man with the shaved head moved into the bedroom.
Benny took one look at Eileen, jumped up, turned to hide himself, and banged his blistered pecker on the bedside table. His scream could be heard in Greenwich Village.
W
ith her thong and sling-backs the only items between her and total nudity, Tawny squared her shoulders, threw back her head, and returned Eileen’s penetrating glare―a perfect translation of the old adage,
if looks could kill
. The men, though never having shown interest in her before, stared in either appreciation or shock. Or maybe it was disgust. She couldn’t determine which.
Benny was dancing around the room, almost in tears, coddling his wounded penis. Sweat poured off his naked body.
“Oh, my God. My blister ruptured. Listen to my voice. It’s higher. I’ve been emasculated.” He flopped on the bed. “Help me, Eileen. Get some salve or something to ease my pain.”
“Fuck you, Benny,” Eileen said. “You couldn’t wait to get in her pants. Why her, of all women? I hope that overworked prick shrivels and falls off, you son of a bitch.”
“Eileen, baby, please.” When she didn’t answer, Benny screamed, “Colin, you do this sort of thing. Get something. I’m losing consciousness.”
Tawny heard Colin mumble something under his breath about a drama queen.
“‘Do this sort of thing?’ I don’t do
that sort of thing
with anyone other than Reggie. Least of all to you, Benny. Your knob has seen too much action. There’s a limit to working for you.”
“Eileen, please. It feels like someone jabbed me with a hot poker.”
Eileen sneered at him. “Would that I had one. Why don’t you get your whore
du jour
to finish what she was about to do. That ought to soothe your pitiful-looking appendage.”
Benny turned his pleading to Tawny. “Tawny, please. There’s Vaseline in the bathroom cabinet. I can’t walk or I’d get it myself.”
Benny was pathetic. Tawny almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but not quite. “Of course, Benny, but I can’t believe the mother of your children would let you writhe in pain over a little extra-curricular activity.”
“A little—Why you…you—”
Eileen sputtered.
Tawny felt no embarrassment as she walked naked past Eileen to retrieve Benny’s lubricant in the bathroom. In a sideways glance, she noticed the woman’s poisonous scowl and Colin’s restraining her from a likely physical attack. When Tawny returned, she scooped a blob of jelly onto her pinky finger and rubbed it over Bennie’s inflamed blister.
Benny moaned and offered Tawny a grateful smile. “Thank you. I’ll remember this.”
It was past time for Tawny to get the hell out of there. She picked up her bra, intending to drop it in her satchel, and stepped into her dress with as much dignity as she could muster. But instead of heading to the closet to gather her tote, she turned toward the door. Eileen blocked her way.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Eileen said.
“I don’t work with an audience. I’m leaving.”
“I’m afraid we can’t let you leave.”
Tawny squared her shoulders and stretched to her full height to look down on
Eileen. “I’d like to see you stop me.”
“Reggie?” Eileen said, summoning the massive hulk to stand sentry at the door like a giant redwood.
Tawny wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but she didn’t like it. “So that’s your name. Well, Reggie, would you move aside, please?”
“Sorry, ma’am. I’m afraid not. You see, you saw me at Mr. Martell’s.”
“And you saw me. What’s the big deal?”
“Mr. Martell had a little accident. After you left, he fell and crushed his rib cage. It was a very bad fall. Broke every bone in his chest. That was for poor Cindi. Then he shot himself. I imagine someone found him by now. He left a note and everything. You’d probably have heard it on the news when you got home.”
Tawny’s stomach did a major cartwheel, and her brain made a crucial calculation. The reason they wouldn’t let her leave was because she could identify Rick Martell’s murderer, a big problem from Reggie’s point of view. Her supposition was confirmed when Colin spoke up.
“So you see now, Ms. Dell, why we can’t let you go.”
“Colin, I thought you didn’t tell anyone about Martell,” Benny said. “How come Eileen knows?”
“Sorry, Benny, but she pays me more than you do.”
“Huh?” Confused, Benny asked, “What the fuck does that mean? Eileen? I don’t understand.”
Eileen walked over to the side of the bed and flicked the flaming red head of Benny’s penis. Tawny hoped Benny’s howl would summon the police, but New Yorkers were famous for ignoring screams and anything else they didn’t want to get involved in, and she doubted Benny’s voice carried far enough anyway. She tried to slip around
Reggie, but it was no use.
“What
did you do that for?” Benny said.
Eileen made another move for Benny’s dick, but he caught her hand. “I’m pissed, Benny. You betrayed me. And with her.” She snapped her head in Tawny’s direction. “Let me explain something. You see, I like what we have. I like my two houses, my tennis club on the island, the Lexus SUV, and I like all the money I spend on restaurants and clothes and shoes and jewelry and all the things that keep me beautiful. And I only have to fuck you to get them. So if you think I’d let some little whore like Serena Marshall screw up all that because she heard Colin blackmailing a client over the phone, you’re nuttier than I think you are.”
“You…you killed Serena?”
“She came to me, like she would her own mother. You remember, don’t you, honey? I trained her. She trusted me. She wanted to turn Colin in to the cops. She didn’t realize if she turned Colin in, she was turning us in too. I couldn’t let that happen now, could I?”
“Jesus.”
“Please, sweetheart,” Eileen said. “I told you. The Lord’s name? It offends me.”
“You killed that poor girl, and you’re not offended?”
Now it dawned on Tawny what she couldn’t remember Monday night. Tessa started to ask Tawny if she’d read the newspaper, but she didn’t finish because Darlene stopped her. Was it about Sarah Marshall’s investigation? She’d been so nervous, she couldn’t think straight. It could have been the proof she needed with a little more coaxing, only now it was too late. Benny was prattling on, acting
as though he’d been a harmless bystander when, in fact, he enabled everything that happened by being purposely ignorant.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Eileen? I could have talked to her―
right after I fired Colin
.”
“You didn’t fire me after you found out about Martell,” Colin said. “And you know why? Because this place would go under without me.”
“I should have fired you, and it looks like this place is going under anyway, doesn’t it?”
“Stop it, you two,” Eileen said. “Don’t you see, Benny, we didn’t want you to know what Colin was doing.”
“You knew?”
“Of course. It’s a very lucrative deal, especially when we target men who go to all the clubs. I’ve kept up with some of the girls who tell me things. Kind of a Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Business was off, Benny. The bad economy hurt, and Versace is expensive.” Eileen got up, wriggled in her tight dress, and flipped her mane of bleached hair at Tawny. “Besides, those guys never knew who was turning the screws, but they wouldn’t talk anyway because they didn’t want their wives to know. ’Course, most of them kept their peckers in their pants after they paid up. A few didn’t, and they were fair game for another phone call. But there are always others. We were careful who we chose.” She glowered at Colin. “Except when shit-for-brains over there decided to go after Martell without consulting me. I could have told him the fat man wasn’t a good choice.”
Colin appeared visibly ashamed.
“But we took care of that,” Eileen continued. “Actually, it was brilliant. We pinned both Cindi’s and Serena’s murders on Martell. Two birdies with one big stone. Should have done Melody, too, but the woman disappeared. Locked her apartment and took off. That’s a pity. She’s the one who could put us all in prison.”
“I don’t believe this,” Benny said, apparently forgetting his sore dick. “You’re all crazy. You can’t kill off people, Eileen. You just can’t.”
“I did it for us, Benny.”
Tawny listened as Eileen unloaded everything, sealing Tawny’s fate. She’d be one more prostitute, dead at the hands of some nutcase avenging his twisted history. But at least now, she couldn’t be lumped in with the other two women.
A chime sounded from the closet. Tawny’s phone.
“Whose is that?” Colin said.
Tawny acted like she didn’t hear because she knew who it was.
“It’s coming from the closet,” Colin said. He opened the door and removed Tawny’s satchel and dug the phone out of an inner pocket. He checked the readout. “Private number. Who is it, Ms. Dell?”
“How do I know? You’ve got the phone.”
“Answer it,” Eileen said.
“No.”
Eileen thrust the phone at her. “Answer it. If you don’t, I will.”
Perfect
! “Go ahead.”
“Reggie,” Eileen said, her gaze never leaving Tawny.
Reggie put two fingers on either side of Tawny’s neck and pressed. She thought she was going to pass out.
“Answer the phone,” Reggie said.
Eileen was right at her ear. Tawny took the phone and opened it. “Hello.”
“Are you all right?”
Eileen nodded at Reggie, and he increased the pressure on Tawny’s neck. His fingers felt like ice picks sticking in her. She gasped. “Yes, I’m…I’m all right.”
“Martell was murdered yesterday, and witnesses put you at the scene. But that’s
not what I’m worried about. There’s a black guy—”
“I’m all right. Don’t worry. Gotta go.” And she snapped the phone shut.
“Bitch,” Eileen said. “She cut him off. Who was that?”
“A friend.”
“He sounded like a cop.” Eileen said.
“A cop! Your friend is a cop? What did I ever do to you? I paid you more money than I ever paid anyone, and you called the cops?” Benny was pulling on his boxers
, and he shrieked, “Ouch!” when they touched the raw blister. “Jesus. I’m ruined forever, out of commission.”
“Enough with your cock,” Colin said. “Knowing you, it’ll be back in action by tomorrow.”
“More money?” Eileen said. “You paid this scrawny bitch more money than anyone?”
Tawny was getting pissed. They weren’t going to let her go, so what difference did it make. “Because I’m worth it, Eileen. Like Dane Phillips preferred me over you. That’s just a fact. There were others who said the same thing. Good thing you lassoed Benny when you did, because your days were numbered. Why, even your boobs are falling. That’s the end, when a girl’s boobs forsake her. Poor Eileen. And what did you wind up with? That.” She pointed at Benny, limping and moaning. “He’s probably had more women than the two of us together have had men. Pitiful.”
Eileen went rigid and Tawny thought for the third time she was going to hit her. Then, Eileen deflated, and her eyes filled with tears. “That’s not true. I had plenty of good years left. And my tits are still where they always were, isn’t that right, Benny?”
“Right now I don’t give a shit about your tits. And, Colin, Eileen paid you with my money. And this is what you both do for me? Kill my girls?”
Eileen put on a little girl voice and puckered her lips. “Only Serena, baby. I was protecting you.”
“And what about Dirk Hansen? Did you give Reggie the order to
do
him, too?”
“If they ever found Cindi’s body, the police would have zeroed in on him.
And he would have told them all about Upper Eighties. He was another loose end we couldn’t let unravel.”
Benny collapsed on the bed, grimacing as he grabbed his crotch. The whole scenario reminded Tawny of a screwball black comedy, only it wasn’t funny because she was the next hooker the cops would find in the harbor. Did Walsh have any idea what was going on? Is that what he was trying to tell her? If so, then where the hell was he?
“Anyone scheduled for later, Colin?” Benny asked.
“No. You were our last customer.”
Benny’s evil eye at Colin would have stopped a charging bull at Pamplona. Tawny was beginning to wonder how Upper Eighties could be so successful with this bunch of dingbats at the helm. But so far no one had been able to pin anything on them, so they must be doing something right.
“What do you want to do with her?” Colin said, switching his questions from Eileen to Benny and back to Eileen. “She can identify Reggie at Martell’s. We can’t let her go.”
“Sure you can,” Tawny said. “Why would I talk? Do you think I want the police to know that Rick Martell was my accountant? They might delve deeper into my finances and find my offshore account.”
“Should we ask Mr. Russo?” Reggie said. “He should know what to do.”
At the mention of Mario Russo’s name, Tawny stiffened. Why would Mario know anything about this? Reggie killed his accountant. Unless…
“You mean Mario Russo, the mobster?” Tawny asked.
Eileen turned to Colin. “When are you going to teach Reggie to keep his mouth shut?” A smile curled her lips as she transferred her gaze to Tawny. “Now we have to get rid of her, not that it will break my heart.”