Read Online Vermilion by Nathan Aldyne - Free Book Online Page A

opened it onto his lap.
    â€œIt’s on page three, lower right,” called Clarisse from the kitchen.
    A small headline above a short column read, NEW CLUE IN HUSTLER DEATH. Valentine read the first sentence, lost the sense of it, and brushed the newspaper off his lap onto the floor.
    â€œNot ready for the gory details this early?” said Clarisse.
    â€œNot awake.”
    â€œThen don’t read the Letters to the Editor either. Some imbecilic woman from Jamaica Plain wrote in, talking about Billy G., saying he was one down and seventy-five thousand to go—”
    â€œNot a bad estimate for a bigot,” remarked Valentine. “That is, if she was talking about just Boston.”
    â€œâ€”and that she thought it was a good sign that he had been dumped on Scarpetti’s lawn, except that his grass probably wouldn’t ever grow there again, and that she hoped someone was seeing to it that the boy wasn’t buried in consecrated ground.”
    â€œThat’s great. Find out her address, and later we’ll ride by and fire-bomb her house. That’ll be one bigot down, and two hundred million to go.”
    Clarisse tossed the bakery bag into Valentine’s lap. He opened it, handed Clarisse an enormous sweet bun filled with honey and covered with crushed walnuts. He took a second one out for himself.
    â€œThis snow could get on my nerves if it keeps up,” said Clarisse. “Maybe you and I ought to go away somewhere.”
    â€œSure,” said Valentine, “let’s go back to Bermuda. We can stay in that hotel where we met—relive our first happy days together—”
    â€œYes,” said Clarisse. “Those happy days when I fell in love with you by the pool, those happy nights in my cabana, and those happy mornings that you spent in bed with the assistant manager—”
    â€œI didn’t know quite how to break it to you…”
    â€œI thought your impotence was my fault—but by the time you got around to me in the evening, you were just worn out. God was I upset when I found out!”
    â€œI would have been impotent without the assistant manager,” smiled Valentine, consolingly.
    â€œSo why did you even try?”
    â€œBecause you were in love with me, and I was in love with your tits. I still am.”
    â€œLet’s go to Rio instead,” said Clarisse. “Rio’s great this time of year.”
    â€œI can’t afford Rio,” said Valentine.
    â€œYou could if you didn’t spend half your salary on a maid for this three-room apartment.”
    â€œI have to have someone to clean. Housecleaning depresses me. That’s something else that makes me impotent. I don’t even like to watch other people cleaning. That’s why Joyce comes in at night, when I’m at Bonaparte’s.”
    â€œYou’ve got the only maid in town who comes in three times a week to watch the late movie!”
    â€œClarisse, I’m not paying her for the work she does, but for the work that I don’t have to do.”
    â€œAnyway, if you weren’t supporting Joyce and her two husbands, you’d have enough money to go to Rio.”
    â€œProbably.” Valentine shrugged.
    They finished the buns in silence, watching the snow blowing against the bay window.
    Clarisse pushed the last bit of pastry into her mouth, licked her fingers, and sat up. “Nearly forgot. Guess who called this morning?”
    From the tone of her voice he knew. He closed his eyes, dropped his head against the back of the sofa, and groaned. He lifted his head, opened his eyes, and said, “Mark.”
    â€œHe called at seven-thirty. Seven-thirty in the morning, can you imagine? To chat?!”
    â€œClarisse, he works at a logging camp. He was probably already on his second morning coffee break. Why did he call?”
    â€œBecause your number is unlisted. He fell in love with you and you wouldn’t even give him your