woman said, showing a brilliant set of perfectly aligned teeth. “In this place? Standard equipment, hunneh.”
They helped him up and took him back to the kitchen and performed first aid at the sink. Valentine embraced the sting of the iodine. It proved he was alive.
When he had stopped the flow of blood from face and lip, he looked around the homey kitchen. Baskets of onions and potatoes lined the floor, rows of preserved vegetables filled racks in the kitchen, and bulbs of garlic and twisted gingerroot hung from the ceiling, fall’s bounty ready for winter.
The madam introduced herself as Ladyfair, though whether this was a first name, a last name, a stage name, or a title, she didn’t say.
“There’s a little washroom just off the back door, next to the laundry room and past the hanging unmentionables,” the madam said as Valentine rubbed his free wrist. “You just make use of it. There’s a flexible shower hose. Just the thing for a fast cleanup.”
Valentine, feeling a little more human, realized he stank. An unpleasant presence was making itself felt in his underwear.
It’s not just an expression. They really kicked the shit out of me, Valentine thought.
When he came out, a towel around his waist, he glanced into the front parlor and noticed that the porch light had been turned off. A thick head of hair looked through the heavy curtains from the edge of a window.
Valentine rubbed his sore neck. The attempted hanging wasn’t so bad; the pain was from the hard jerks from the rope during the fight. He wondered if he had whiplash.
They presented him an old pair of generously cut khaki trousers and some serviceable briefs. “We have a little of just about everything hanging in the basement,” Ladyfair said. “You’d think we were a community theater. We do everything but produce Shakespeare.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t. The Bard had his bawdy side.”
“You just come back now when you’re up to it. You seem like a better quality than that rabble, and a smart business is always looking to improve the clientele. Seeing as that disgrace took place right on my front lawn, I’ll offer you a freebie when you’re feeling more recovered.”
“I appreciate you taking me into your house.”
“Oh, it’s not my house. We’re a limited liability partnership, young man. Quite a few make that mistake, though. I suppose I’m the old lead mare of the house, though I’m still very much involved on the cash generation side of things. There are some that have learned to appreciate a woman without teeth.”
She winked.
Bordello co-ops. What will they thing of next ? Valentine thought.
“Then I’m grateful to the whole partnership. Novel idea.”
“Not really. I’m surprised. Your necktie party insisted you were a fan of professional gentlemen’s entertainment. Said you used to visit a place called the Blue Dome. They said it was only fitting that you get hung up on the doorstep of a whorehouse, so to speak.”
Valentine shrugged. “I don’t suppose you could give me their names,” Valentine said.
“You’ll remember we haven’t even asked yours.”
“David will do,” Valentine said.
“Well, David, if you want names, nobody gives a real name here. You should really hurry on. Mr. C, our banker and lawyer, is removing the rope from the tree, but if they come back . . .”
“Were they Southern Command?”
“They were in civilian attire but had fabric belts with those clever little buckles our heroes in uniform wear. One of them was drinking and kept talking about General Martinez and about how things are going to change for the better once he gets in, so I suspect at least some of them were.”
A prettyish young “entertainer” came into the kitchen with the placard that had been hung about his neck. “You want this as evidence?” she asked with a strong Texas accent.
It was an ordinary wood bar tray, much ringed and weathered though carefully cleaned, with black letters
They helped him up and took him back to the kitchen and performed first aid at the sink. Valentine embraced the sting of the iodine. It proved he was alive.
When he had stopped the flow of blood from face and lip, he looked around the homey kitchen. Baskets of onions and potatoes lined the floor, rows of preserved vegetables filled racks in the kitchen, and bulbs of garlic and twisted gingerroot hung from the ceiling, fall’s bounty ready for winter.
The madam introduced herself as Ladyfair, though whether this was a first name, a last name, a stage name, or a title, she didn’t say.
“There’s a little washroom just off the back door, next to the laundry room and past the hanging unmentionables,” the madam said as Valentine rubbed his free wrist. “You just make use of it. There’s a flexible shower hose. Just the thing for a fast cleanup.”
Valentine, feeling a little more human, realized he stank. An unpleasant presence was making itself felt in his underwear.
It’s not just an expression. They really kicked the shit out of me, Valentine thought.
When he came out, a towel around his waist, he glanced into the front parlor and noticed that the porch light had been turned off. A thick head of hair looked through the heavy curtains from the edge of a window.
Valentine rubbed his sore neck. The attempted hanging wasn’t so bad; the pain was from the hard jerks from the rope during the fight. He wondered if he had whiplash.
They presented him an old pair of generously cut khaki trousers and some serviceable briefs. “We have a little of just about everything hanging in the basement,” Ladyfair said. “You’d think we were a community theater. We do everything but produce Shakespeare.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t. The Bard had his bawdy side.”
“You just come back now when you’re up to it. You seem like a better quality than that rabble, and a smart business is always looking to improve the clientele. Seeing as that disgrace took place right on my front lawn, I’ll offer you a freebie when you’re feeling more recovered.”
“I appreciate you taking me into your house.”
“Oh, it’s not my house. We’re a limited liability partnership, young man. Quite a few make that mistake, though. I suppose I’m the old lead mare of the house, though I’m still very much involved on the cash generation side of things. There are some that have learned to appreciate a woman without teeth.”
She winked.
Bordello co-ops. What will they thing of next ? Valentine thought.
“Then I’m grateful to the whole partnership. Novel idea.”
“Not really. I’m surprised. Your necktie party insisted you were a fan of professional gentlemen’s entertainment. Said you used to visit a place called the Blue Dome. They said it was only fitting that you get hung up on the doorstep of a whorehouse, so to speak.”
Valentine shrugged. “I don’t suppose you could give me their names,” Valentine said.
“You’ll remember we haven’t even asked yours.”
“David will do,” Valentine said.
“Well, David, if you want names, nobody gives a real name here. You should really hurry on. Mr. C, our banker and lawyer, is removing the rope from the tree, but if they come back . . .”
“Were they Southern Command?”
“They were in civilian attire but had fabric belts with those clever little buckles our heroes in uniform wear. One of them was drinking and kept talking about General Martinez and about how things are going to change for the better once he gets in, so I suspect at least some of them were.”
A prettyish young “entertainer” came into the kitchen with the placard that had been hung about his neck. “You want this as evidence?” she asked with a strong Texas accent.
It was an ordinary wood bar tray, much ringed and weathered though carefully cleaned, with black letters
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