only so many scams in the world, and the top ones are still drugs and flesh peddling. The family's got their fingers in those pies, same as every other outfit.”
“You know anybody who's Romanian?”
“You working with them now?” Deuce asked. “They're goddamn rough. They've been through genocide, those people, the real thing with death camps, you know. Secret police, assassination- squadshit. There's not much that fuckin’ spooks them anymore.”
“I'm seeing that. So you know anyone?”
“Mobbed up?”
“No. Just somebody who can speak the language. Help an immigrant girl and her baby get settled in the States and out of the life.”
“Most of them do porn,” the Deuce said. “It's a hot item, guys banging these chicks who can barely speak English but got that nice pale look to them. They're so goddamn happy to be out of a freezing country and in Southern California, they do double anals, the whole gonzo shebang. Or they do the Web site thing. You go in a chat room and tell them what you want and they do it right there, live on the webcams. You say, ‘Lift your legs wider, I want to see beaver’ and they do it. Mooks ordering them around from a safe distance, their wives in the other room bitching about the broken dishwasher. Guys like that.” It took him a couple seconds to add, “So they tell me.”
“Uh huh. So anybody who can help?”
“These Romanian people I know, they live down the block from my mother. Good folks, been here in Jersey a long time, but they still got ties. I used to cut their lawn when I was a kid. In ’79 they got a Pontiac LeMans that I nabbed for a night. Took my girlfriend to the drive- in. She gave me a blowjob while Kirk and Spock and some bald chick tracked down the Voyager module.”
Chase said, “I'm hoping these people nevercaught wise to the stains on their leather interior and they'd still be willing to help you.”
“Yeah, sure, they'll do what they can, they've set up relatives before. But the old man's retired and they live on his pension. They're not going to be able to pay her freight.”
“I've got twenty- five hundred to give them to get a head start until she finds a job and a place to live.”
“That'll help a little. You're giving money away now?”
“Give me the address then call them.”
Deucie gave him the address and said, “Who is this girl?”
“I don't know. Just somebody in trouble.”
“Since when is that your problem? Aren't you supposed to be robbing the family instead?”
“I've got time to do both,” Chase said.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, see if you can find Jonah.”
“I thought you'd split with him after what happened.”
“Just see if you can track him down.”
“Scoring the Langans, dealing with your grandfather again, it's not good business, kid. Listen to me, you don't have to do any of this. Come on in, I can give you a nice safe job, something that won't be so rough for you. I can use another good man with your skills.”
“I think I want to see this thing through.”
“It's all about being on the edge, right? You think your wife would want this for you? You think—”
Chase hung up.
Mara had started to nod off. She'd snap her chin up and murmur in Romanian and tremble as she became aware of her surroundings. Her body jerked as if being pricked with needles. She caught Chase's gaze in the rearview and gave him a true death glare. There it was, the real thing. No anger, no wanting, just bottomless human emptiness.
The baby hiccuped. The woman unbuttoned her blouse and began to breast- feed her child, who sucked greedily. She looked out the window with stagnant eyes, and every so often she'd run her hand over the sleeping baby's hair, plucking at it, curling it around her fingers the way Lila used to do with Chase's after they'd made love.
The dead owned him.
The dead would always find a way to make him listen. The threefold hook twisted deep. Blood mattered, even if it wasn't his own.
Lila
“You know anybody who's Romanian?”
“You working with them now?” Deuce asked. “They're goddamn rough. They've been through genocide, those people, the real thing with death camps, you know. Secret police, assassination- squadshit. There's not much that fuckin’ spooks them anymore.”
“I'm seeing that. So you know anyone?”
“Mobbed up?”
“No. Just somebody who can speak the language. Help an immigrant girl and her baby get settled in the States and out of the life.”
“Most of them do porn,” the Deuce said. “It's a hot item, guys banging these chicks who can barely speak English but got that nice pale look to them. They're so goddamn happy to be out of a freezing country and in Southern California, they do double anals, the whole gonzo shebang. Or they do the Web site thing. You go in a chat room and tell them what you want and they do it right there, live on the webcams. You say, ‘Lift your legs wider, I want to see beaver’ and they do it. Mooks ordering them around from a safe distance, their wives in the other room bitching about the broken dishwasher. Guys like that.” It took him a couple seconds to add, “So they tell me.”
“Uh huh. So anybody who can help?”
“These Romanian people I know, they live down the block from my mother. Good folks, been here in Jersey a long time, but they still got ties. I used to cut their lawn when I was a kid. In ’79 they got a Pontiac LeMans that I nabbed for a night. Took my girlfriend to the drive- in. She gave me a blowjob while Kirk and Spock and some bald chick tracked down the Voyager module.”
Chase said, “I'm hoping these people nevercaught wise to the stains on their leather interior and they'd still be willing to help you.”
“Yeah, sure, they'll do what they can, they've set up relatives before. But the old man's retired and they live on his pension. They're not going to be able to pay her freight.”
“I've got twenty- five hundred to give them to get a head start until she finds a job and a place to live.”
“That'll help a little. You're giving money away now?”
“Give me the address then call them.”
Deucie gave him the address and said, “Who is this girl?”
“I don't know. Just somebody in trouble.”
“Since when is that your problem? Aren't you supposed to be robbing the family instead?”
“I've got time to do both,” Chase said.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, see if you can find Jonah.”
“I thought you'd split with him after what happened.”
“Just see if you can track him down.”
“Scoring the Langans, dealing with your grandfather again, it's not good business, kid. Listen to me, you don't have to do any of this. Come on in, I can give you a nice safe job, something that won't be so rough for you. I can use another good man with your skills.”
“I think I want to see this thing through.”
“It's all about being on the edge, right? You think your wife would want this for you? You think—”
Chase hung up.
Mara had started to nod off. She'd snap her chin up and murmur in Romanian and tremble as she became aware of her surroundings. Her body jerked as if being pricked with needles. She caught Chase's gaze in the rearview and gave him a true death glare. There it was, the real thing. No anger, no wanting, just bottomless human emptiness.
The baby hiccuped. The woman unbuttoned her blouse and began to breast- feed her child, who sucked greedily. She looked out the window with stagnant eyes, and every so often she'd run her hand over the sleeping baby's hair, plucking at it, curling it around her fingers the way Lila used to do with Chase's after they'd made love.
The dead owned him.
The dead would always find a way to make him listen. The threefold hook twisted deep. Blood mattered, even if it wasn't his own.
Lila
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