Pulp (9 page)

The phone rang. I picked it up. “Belane, here.”

“You haven’t seen the last of me,” the Lady said. It was Lady Death.

“Look, baby, can’t we cut a deal?”

“It’s never been done, Belane.”

“Let’s break precedent, let’s give it a shot, Lady.”

“No dice, Belane.”

“Well, O.k., but how about giving me a date, you know, a D.O.D.?”

“What’s that?”

“Date of Demise.”

“What good would that do?”

“Lady, I could prepare myself.”

“Every human should anyhow, Belane.”

“Lady, they don’t, they forget it, they ignore it or they’re just too stupid to think about it.”

“That doesn’t concern me, Belane.”

“What concerns you, Lady?”

“My job.”

“Me too, Lady, my job concerns me.”

“Well, good for you, fat boy. This call was just to let you know that I haven’t forgotten you…”

“Ah, thanks so much, Lady, you’ve really cheered up my day.”

“See you later, Belane…”

She hung up.

There’s always somebody about to ruin your day, if not your life. I put out my cigar, put on my derby, went to the door, locked it, walked to the elevator and took it down. Out on the street I just stood there watching them walk around. My gut began to turn and I walked half a block down to a bar, The Eclipse, walked in, took a stool. I had to think. I had cases to solve and I didn’t know where to begin. I ordered a whiskey sour with beer chaser. Actually, I felt like laying down somewhere and sleeping for a couple of weeks. The game was getting to me. At one time there had been some excitement. Not much, but some. You don’t want to hear it. Married three times, divorced three times.

Born and ready to die. Nothing to do but try to solve cases nobody else would touch. Not for my fee.

Guy at the end of the bar kept looking at me. I could feel him looking. The place was empty except for me, him, the barkeep. I finished my drink and called the bartender over for another. All he had was a lot of hair on his face.

“Same thing, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, “only stronger.”

“For the same price?” he asked.

“Whatever is possible,” I answered.

“What’s that mean?”

“You don’t know, barkeep?”

“Naw…”

“Well, while you’re making my drink, think about it.”

He walked off.

The guy at the end caught my eye, waved, yelled, “How ya doin’, Eddie?”

“I’m not Eddie,” I told him.

“You look like Eddie,” he said.

“I don’t give a fuck if I look like Eddie or not,” I answered.

“You lookin’ for trouble?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, “you gonna bring it?”

The barkeep brought my drink, took some of the money I’d left on the bar, said, “I don’t think you’re a nice man.”

“Who told you you could think?” I asked.

“I don’t have to serve you,” he said.

“You don’t want the money, I’ll keep it.”

“I don’t want it
that
bad….”

“How bad do you want it, tell me…”

“DON’T SERVE HIM NO MORE!” yelled the guy at the end of the bar.

“One more word out of you and I’m gonna stick my foot up your ass! They’ll be sucking red bubbles out of your cheeks with a rubber tube.”

The guy just smiled a weak smile. The bartender was still standing there.

“Look,” I said to him, “I just walked in here for a quiet, peaceful drink and everybody starts to give me a lot of crap! By the way, have you seen the Red Sparrow?”

“The Red Sparrow? What’s that?”

“You’ll know it when you see it. Hell, never mind…”

I finished my drink and got out of there. It was better on the street.

I just walked along. Something had to give and it wasn’t going to be me. I began counting each fool that passed me. I got up to 50 in two-and-one-half-minutes, then stepped into the next bar.

I walked in and took a stool. The barkeep walked up.

“Hi, Eddie,” he said.

“I’m not Eddie,” I told him.

“I’m Eddie,” he said.

“You don’t want to play with me,” I told him.

“No, you do it,” he said.

“Look, barkeep, I’m a peaceful man. Fairly normal. I don’t sniff armpits or wear ladies’ underwear. But everywhere I go, somebody is pushing shots at me, they give me no rest. Why is this?”

“I think you got it comin’, somehow.”

“Well, Eddie, you stop thinking and see if you can fix me a double vodka and tonic, touch of lime.”

“We don’t got no lime.”

“Yeah, you have. I can see it from here.”

“That lime’s not for you.”

“Yeah? Who’s it for? Elizabeth Taylor? Now, if you want to sleep in your own bed tonight, I’ll have that lime. In my drink. Pronto.”

“Yeah? What ya gonna do? You and whose army?”

“One more word out of you, boy, and you’re gonna have a breathing problem.”

He stood there looking at me, deciding whether to call my card or not. He blinked, then sensibly moved off and began working on my drink. I watched him carefully. No tricks. He brought the drink back.

“I was kidding, mister, can’t you take a joke?”

“Depends upon how it’s told.”

Eddie walked off again, stood down at the far end of the bar.

I lifted the drink, slammed it down. Then I pulled out a bill. I took the lime, squeezed it onto the bill. Then I rolled the bill around it, then rolled it down the bar toward the barkeep. It stopped in front of him. He looked down at it. I slowly stood up, did a little neck exercise, turned and walked out. I decided to go back to the office.

I had work to do. My eyes were blue and nobody loved me but myself. I walked along humming my favorite bit from “Carmen.”

I unlocked the door to my office, swung it open, and there she was: Jeannie Nitro, sitting on my desk, legs crossed, kicking her heels.

“Belane, you pitiful drunk, how ya doing?” she smiled.

She looked great. I could see where Grovers was in trouble. What did it matter if she was a space alien? The way she looked you wanted more of them around. But Grovers was my client. I had to do this one in, off her, move her out of the picture. I never got any rest. I was always on the hustle for somebody.

I swung around my desk, flopped on my chair, tossed my derby onto the hat rack, lit a cigar and sighed. Jeannie just sat on the desk, kicking her legs.

“To answer your question, Jeannie, I’m doin’ all right.”

“I’ve come to make a deal with you, Belane.”

“I’d rather hear a Scarlatti sonata.”

“How long since you had a woman?”

“Who cares?”

“You should.”

“Suppose I don’t?”

“Suppose you do?”

“You offering me your bod, Jeannie?”

“Maybe.”

“What’s the maybe? Either you do or you don’t.”

“The bod is part of the deal.”

“Which is?”

Jeannie popped off the desk and began walking the rug. She looked good walking the rug.

“Belane,” she said while still walking, “I’m the first wave of an invasion force from Space. We are going to take over the earth.”

“Why?”

“I’m from the planet Zaros. We are overpopulated. We need the earth for our excess people.”

“Well, why in the hell don’t you come on in? You look just like humans. Nobody would ever know.”

Jeannie stopped walking and faced me.

“Belane, we don’t look like this. What you are seeing is only a mirage.”

Jeannie came over and sat down on my desk again.

“What do you really look like?” I asked.

“This,” she said.

There was a flash of purple light. I looked down on my desk. There was this
thing
. It looked like an above average size snake, only it was covered with coarse hair and at its center was a round, moist glob with a single eye. The head had no eyes, only a thin mouth. It was truly a hideous looking thing. I grabbed the telephone, raised it high and brought it down hard. I missed. The thing had slithered to one side. It crawled down along the rug. I ran after it to crush it with my shoe. There was another flash of purple light and then Jeannie stood there again.

“You fool,” she said, “you tried to kill me. Don’t anger me or I’ll take you out!”

Her eyes were blazing.

“O.k., baby, o.k., I just got kind of confused. Sorry.”

“All right, forget it. Now, we are an advance force sent to scout the earth for our excess population. But we feel it would only be sensible to align some of you humans to our Cause. Like you.”

“Why me?”

“You’re the perfect type, you’re gullible, self-centered and have no character.”

“What’s with Grovers? Why him? Why the dead bodies? How does he fit?”

Jeannie laughed.

“He doesn’t. We just
landed
there. I became somewhat attached to him, just a mild flirtation, something to do….”

“And me? You got the hots for me, baby?”

“You’re usable for the Cause.”

She moved toward me. I was totally entranced. Her body was against mine, we pressed together. We embraced and our mouths joined. Her tongue darted into my mouth, it was hot and wiggled like a small snake.

I pushed her away.

“No,” I said, “I’m sorry, I can’t!”

She looked at me.

“What is it, Belane? You too old?”

“It’s not that, baby…”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings…”

“Tell me, Belane…”

“Well, you might turn into that ugly thing again with the bump in the middle and that one eye…”

“Why you fat fuck, Zaronians are beautiful!”

“I didn’t think you’d understand…”

I walked back around my desk, sat down, pulled open the drawer, found the pint of vodka, unscrewed the cap, had a hit.

“How’d ya land?” I asked Jeannie.

“Space tube.”

“Space tube, huh? How many of you?”

“6.”

“I don’t know if I can help you, baby…”

“You’ll help me, Belane.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You’re dead.”

“Christ, first Lady Death. Now you. All you ladies do is threaten me with death. Well, maybe I’ll have something to say about that!”

I reached into the drawer for the luger. I had it in my hand. I pulled off the safety catch and leveled the gat at her.

“I’ll blow you all the way back to Zaros, baby!”

“Go ahead, pull the trigger!”

“What?”

“I said, pull the trigger, Belane!”

“You think I won’t?”

I could already feel some sweat at my temples.

“You think I won’t?” I repeated.

Jeannie just smiled at me.

“Pull the damned trigger, Belane!”

My whole face was a mass of sweat.

“Please go back to Zaros, sweetheart!”

“NO!”

I pulled the trigger. There was a roar of sound and the gun kicked back in my hand. I rubbed the sweat away from my eyes and looked.

Jeannie was standing there smiling at me. I looked closer. She had something in her mouth. It was the bullet. She had caught the bullet with her teeth. She walked toward the desk, stopped. Then she spat the bullet out into my ashtray.

“Baby,” I said, “we can make a lot of money with that trick! We can team up! We can be rich! Think of it!”

“I wouldn’t think of it, Belane. That would be a misuse of my powers.”

I took another hit of my vodka. I had a real problem here with Jeannie.

“Now,” said Jeannie, “I am enlisting you for our Cause, the Cause of the Zaros, whether you like it or not. We are still revising our plan to inhabit the earth. You’ll be contacted and advised at our discre-tion.”

“Look, Jeannie, can’t you get anybody else for this goddamned thing?”

She smiled.

“Belane, you have been Selected!”

There was a flash of purple light and she was gone.

I got Grovers on the phone. He was in.

“How’s business, Grovers?”

“Steady,” he said, “no recession here.”

“Your case with Jeannie Nitro, it’s closed. She won’t be bothering you any more. I’ll mail you a bill for final charges.”

“Final charges? You trying to stiff me?”

“Grovers, I got this alien babe off you. Now you pay up.”

“All right, all right…but how’d you do it?”

“Trade secret, baby.”

“All right, I suppose I should be grateful.”

“Don’t suppose, just be. And pay your bill unless you want to be using one of your pine boxes. Or, do you prefer walnut?”

“Well, let’s see…” he began.

I sighed and hung up.

I put my feet up on the desk. I was making progress. Now all I had to do was to nail Cindy Bass’s ass and locate the Red Sparrow.

Of course, Jeannie Nitro was now
my
problem. I was my own client.

But Celine and Grovers were history. In a sense I was beginning to feel truly professional.

But before I could relax, Lady Death entered my mind again. She was still there.

The phone rang, I picked it up. It was Lady Death.

“I’m still here, Belane.”

“Why don’t you take a vacation, babe?”

“I can’t. I enjoy my work too much.”

“Listen, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you just work the earth?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, does your work include, say, uh…space aliens?”

“Of course. Space aliens, worms, dogs, fleas, lions, spiders, you name it.”

“That’s nice to know.”

“What’s nice to know?”

“That you work space aliens.”

“You bore me, Belane.”

“I’m glad of that, baby.”

“Listen, I’ve got some work to do…”

“Just answer me one question…”

“Maybe. What is it?”

“How do you kill a space alien?”

“No problem.”

“A bullet won’t do it. What do you use?”

“That’s a secret of the trade, Belane.”

“You can tell me, baby, my lips will be forever sealed.”

“Fat boy,” she said just before hanging up, “I might take care of that for you.”

I put the phone down and put my feet back on the desk. Christ, 6 space aliens on the prowl and enlisting me for the Cause. I should notify the authorities. Sure, lot of good that would do. I had to solve it myself. Seemed damned tough. Maybe I ought to sit on it for a while. I uncapped the vodka and had a little nip.