Wrong Ways Down

CHAPTER SIX

SHARP-EYE BEN WEREN'T answering he door, but Terrible knew he were inside; he’d been watching for over an hour, and he’d seen Ben go in not two minutes afore. Couldn’t wait longer than that, causen Ben probably scored while he were out, and iffen Terrible gave him long enough to shoot up he’d be too juiced to be any use at all.

He gave one more knock, banging the door hard. No answer. Right, then. Ben’s own fucking fault. He stepped back and kicked the door, hard, so it bulged and splintered at the frame. “Ben! Open the fuck up.”

No answer. He kicked the door again. This time a couple shards of wood broke off; the door cracked down the middle but ain’t split. “Last chance, Ben. I gotta break you door, I ain’t be happy, dig?”

After a second Ben’s voice came thin through the destroyed wood. “Aye, just a—just gimme one, aye, just a hold-on one minute.”

Was Ben tryna climb out a window, or get that spike in his arm before he had to talk? Fuck that. Terrible gave the door a final kick; it broke down and across, the parts with hinges falling open and the bottom falling to the floor.

Ben shrieked. Tryna get the needle in, he were; already had heself tied off. Terrible crossed the floor in three steps, used his open right hand to smack Ben’s face while yanking the needle away with his left. He held it over his head. “Where the money?”

Ben held his cheek. Fucking drama queen; Terrible barely hit him. “Got it. I got it. Swearing I do. Got me some knowledge too, got it, asked like you said. Gimme my spike, aye? Just gimme it, I give you—”

“Lashers an knowledge,” Terrible said, shaking his head. “Then you get yon spike back. Dig? Not before. Give it over.”

He tried not to look at Ben’s arm, the ugly tracks up and down the inside of it. Made him sad, iffen he were honest. The needle … the needle were the last place, the place where they admitted they weren’t even trying no more. And as always when he saw those, on anybody, he thought of Chess, hoped she never got there. Wondered what he’d do iffen she did.

Nothing, probably, causen it weren’t his fucking business, and he oughta stop thinking like it were. She weren’t his woman. Just his friend, and he had no right telling her what she oughta do or not do. Hell, even were she his woman he wouldn’t have that right. Specially when it weren’t like he were perfect, and specially when he knew—he’d come to know—that she had some serious shit to forget, and who the fuck was he to say she took the wrong way on forgetting it? Some might say he were just as bad, beating on people to forget whatany bothered him.

Some might say he were worse. They’d be right.

Ben’s head dipped. “Lemme get it, aye? Inna kitchen, see? Onna counter. See it?”

The money were on the counter, a fold of crisp new lashers layin there. Looked like all of Ben’s owes. Guess that new dame he said he had really were gone on him, iffen he ain’t been lying on where it came from.

Were Ben’s apartment too quiet? Like somebody waiting for him to turn he back? Or were he just jumpy, or maybe just itchy causen of the thoughts on Chess and needles, causen how fucking depressing Ben’s place were?

He jerked his head, took a step back so he were angled to keep a better eye on the broken door and the entrance to the hallway. Just in case. “Go get it, then.”

Ben did, brought it back. Terrible relaxed a little. He flipped through the bills with he thumb, making sure it weren’t bills wrapped around paper or aught like that; when it weren’t he nodded and put the fold in his pocket. “What knowledge, then?”

Ben’s reddish eyes kept jumping from Terrible’s face to the needle, from the needle to Terrible’s face. He licked his lips. “I tell you, you gimme back my spike?”

“Just said so, aye?”

“An maybe I gets me a credit? You tell Bump I’m all paid up on, an I gave you some knowledge helped, aye?”

“Getting fuckin bored here.”

Needle, face, needle, face. Terrible ain’t could figure on how Ben weren’t dizzy yet. “Aye, right. Right. Know a dude knows a dude, plays the duff up Northside. Dig?”

Terrible nodded. Somebody passing fake jewelry, maybe running cons with it. Northside were the place for that kinda shit, aye, where them had money. Nobody were cheap like rich people.

“Dude livin heself inna squat here, roundabout Forty-eighth an Grant.” Ben’s gaze skittered to the needle again; he licked his chapped lips again. “Say he gots a partner there got kicked some lashers for to be a lookout for a robbery. On the other night, dig? Thinking you got knowing what I’m meaning.”

Aye, he knew. Somebody got paid to be a lookout while somebody attacked Sue. Meant it weren’t an accident, somebody pulling it just on the moment. Meant somebody planned it, got ready.

Made it a fuck of a lot more likely whoever done it also killed Slick.

But iffen they’d killed Slick, why they ain’t needed a lookout for that? Or maybe them just figured be easy finding somebody willing to be a lookout for robbery but not so easy finding somebody willing to help with murder. Especially not murdering one of Bump’s men.

“Terrible?” Ben rubbed his hands together. He whole body were jerky, actually, like he wanted to get up and grab the needle but knew there weren’t a point to trying. Which there weren’t.

Terrible looked down at him, slow. Letting Ben see he had all day. “Any else?”

“Nay, nay, ‘sall.”

“You certain? Ain’t be too happy you call me up next time you got owes an say you forgetting to tell me aught today, dig? Better you get it all out on the now. I finding out you holding back, ain’t good for you.”

Ben twitched again. “Be all. Swearing it to you, be all. C’n I getting my spike now? Please, gave you all of it, all what knowledge I’m getting.”

“Got a name?”

“Aye.” Ben bobbed he head, too fast for a nod. Looked like some kinda spasm. “Aye, got me a name. Forgetting there, on the second. Got me a name. Gav, be what I hear. Gav be he name.”

For fuck’s sake. “Which one be Gav? The lookout or the dude knowing the lookout?”

“The lookout. Be Gav. Lives inna squat, he do, living there, you find he there. Gav, you look for he.”

Gav. Gav inna squat at Forty-eighth and Grant. Terrible thought he knew the place; year or so past a couple fuckheads decided to start cutting and selling their own Dream a few doors down, and he’d gone there to find em. They’d promised to stop and hadn’t, so nobody ever found em again after that, cepting them at the burnhouse.

He checked his watch. Just past four. No point hunting around there now; anybody working cons like that woulda just gone up Northside, probably stay there til their marks finished drinking in whatany shitty overpriced bars they avoided going home in. Better targets when they was drunk.

So not much point looking for Gav til late, and Terrible ain’t wanted to give him any tip-off by checking the place out ahead of time. Iffen he knew what he’d been look-out for he’d be extra scared of seeing Terrible around.

Ben had started sweating and wringing his hands. Terrible lowered the needle a couple inches. “You certain that all you got?”

Ben nodded.

Terrible brought the needle down more, then lifted it back up. He ain’t liked teasing Ben like that, but he had to keep his attention, let him know he were serious. “You tell any on this? You tell any I’m looking, or what you gave me?”

Ben shook his head so fast it almost made Terrible seasick seeing it. “Nay! Ain’t said to any, I ain’t. I won’t, neither. Won’t never say, I swearing it. Swearing it. C’mon, I ain’t lie on this, you got the knowledge I ain’t a liar, aye?”

What knowledge Terrible had was Ben would lie as soon as look at him, iffen he thought it’d get him what he wanted or get him outta trouble, but he ain’t bothered to say. Ben knew it anyway. “I hear you saying on this to any else, you find youself tryin shoot up through a cast, dig? Ain’t fuckin playing here. You keep you fuckin mouth shut.”

“Not a speak. Swearing, not a speak, not any, not to any.”

Ben’s word weren’t worth much, but it was about all Terrible were gonna get. He couldn’t lock Ben up or whatany till he’d caught the motherfuckers pulled this. He only choice were to threaten hard and hope it stuck.

So he handed the needle over. The sigh Ben made turned his stomach. “Better not be lying, Ben. I ain’t wanting come back here.”

Just as he pushed himself through the pieces of the door, he stopped and turned back around. “I find the dude, an turns out him involved like you say? You get you credit back. Aye? But only when I finding him, an finding out you got true knowledge. Othersides that, you get shit.”

He had to wait on the couch; sucked, causen he had shit he needed to chatter on. But Bump were still in bed, with a couple of his women. Terrible ain’t bothered learning their names anymore. Or, he ain’t bothered til they’d been around a while. Dames moved through Bump’s life—through he bed—like it were some sort of machine that created em; new ones popping out regular and then disappearing out the door. Terrible would disappear out the door heself at that moment, seeing as Bump were either sleeping or busy, but Bump had summoned him so would expect to see him when he came out the room.

He’d wonder how it happened Bump were able to get all them dames iffen he ain’t knew from his own experience. Were easy to find a dame willing to fuck him if he ain’t cared who they were or why they wanted him. He had money, he was with Bump, everybody in Downside knew who he were. For some dames that were enough, and all they wanted was a couple orgasms, a chance to say they’d been with him, and maybe to be bought shit.

Coursen, the fact that he made certain they got those orgasms were a help. He’d learned real early that a dude looked like he did had to offer something iffen he wanted to get laid, and dames talked to each other.

When he were younger he’d taken advantage of it, too, and he ain’t looked quite as bad then as he did now—still ain’t ever been much, with he big jaw and brow and mean eyes, but not so many scars and shit—so it’d been even easier. And he guessed he still took advantage of it, iffen he were honest. He ain’t had too much trouble, leastaways, finding dames who’d let him in their beds for the night.

Only seemed like lately it were … not so much fun as it used to be. Or, still fun—coursen it were fun, what the fuck could be not fun about it?—but it were different. What he wanted were different.

He ain’t knew for certain how old he was; he figured somewhere roundabout twenty-seven, or more likely twenty-eight, but for all he knew he could be as old as thirty. Seeing as how he could only guess from remembering Haunted Week and a couple vague things before, like the red-suited men waving bells in the snow, he had no way of being certain. But he were at least twenty-seven, and he’d stopped being a virgin for real about sixteen years past and he’d had himself a lot of women in between. He guessed that meant he were old enough and been around enough to start thinking on being with just one woman. On having one he could call his, for good.

Bump thought he were crazy. But Bump had he a wife somewhere he ain’t seen in twenty years, and Bump had he some fucked-up thoughts on dames heself.

Voices from Bump’s room, now; they was either waking up or finishing up. He ain’t wanted to know which, so he tuned it out, sat there smoking, planning what he needed to say and writing it down in his notebook. Bump’d ask a lot of questions, and Terrible oughta have answers fast. That meant thinking ahead on what he’d say, causen it seemed like he got the answers in he head but they ain’t seemed to make it out right. Like he had some disconnect there, between he mind and he mouth. Guessed iffen he were smarter he wouldn’t, but since he weren’t smart he had to think of how to say everything ahead so he ain’t would get stuck.

The bedroom door opened, and Bump came out, knotting the belt of his purple silk robe. Under it he wore silk pajama bottoms the same color. His hair stood up in tufts off he head. “When you fuckin getting here?”

“Couple minutes past.”

Bump nodded and sat on the edge of his desk. His black box sat on it, the one he kept he stash in; he pulled it up to his side, opened it, and started chopping heself a line while he talked. “What knowledge you fuckin got? Gots me some, yay, sure fuckin do, but you telling me on the first.”

Terrible flipped open he notebook, squinted at it for a second. Bump’s ex-woman Lisa taught him to read, aye—among other things—but she ain’t cared too much on what he writing looked like; sometimes even he had a hard time figuring it out, least when he wrote fast he did. “Talked to Sharp-eye Ben, you know he? Gots he some connections, Ben do. Gave me that he knows a dude knows a dude got paid to be a lookout when Sue got attacked.”

He glanced up, expecting Bump to comment, but he were busy sucking up he lines so Terrible kept talking. “Say be a dude name of Gav, squats at Forty-eighth an Grant. Works a duff game up Northside, so won’t be there now, aye? I give it a look-in later.”

Now Bump did respond. More like he spat, he voice a furious cat-hiss, he face pinkish, but whether that was from the speed or from being so pissed Terrible didn’t know. “Bring that fucker here, yay? Ain’t you even—nay, nay, not fuckin here. Take he the warehouse. You taking he the fuckin warehouse, yay, you strap he down an gimme a fuckin ring-up so’s I getting my fuckin look-see.”

“Aye.” He checked the notebook again. “Hearing from Edsel—sells magic in the Market, aye? There regular, every day—says people saying be a ghost. Amy say me the same on the last night, too, that she got told be a ghost killed Slick. Gave em the tell it ain’t, asked Ed spread that on, only—”

“Fuck. Last fuckin thing we needin, yay? That ghost shit.”

“Edsel got the hearing somebody say were a ghost around the night Slick killed.”

Bump tilted his head and drummed he fingers on his desk; the lamp-light hit he diamond rings and sent sparks jumping all over the red walls. “Thinking got truth in it?”

“Ain’t can say. Were told the dude dumped Slick’s body were talkin, dig, an ghosts don’t talk, but maybe we oughta—”

“Ain’t callin the fuckin ladybird on the yet.” Bump waved his hand. “Just causen one fuckin crazyass saying see them fuckin selfs a ghost. Half them inna fuckin pipe-rooms say them seein dead ones, yay, you fuckin knowing that shit. Ain’t can fuckin give the belief on one fuckin rumor.”

Shit. Bump were right up there; they ain’t wanted a scare happening, and iffen they brung Chess in so early on people would believe it were a ghost after all. Best to leave it til they had to.

He moved on. “Talking to people near where Sue found. One said Slobag’s men there on the other day, tryin unload bags, dig? Just showing up, sneaking off again just as fast.”

Bump leaned back and put his feet up. He big toe were smeared with lipstick. Terrible ain’t wanted to think on that one. “Wait til you fuckin hearing on what I got. Lenny Green, yay, fuckin gave me on the last night. Slobag planning he more moves, yay? More creeping in on them borders, starting he fuckin fights up. Lenny fuckin gave me some on distractions, too, sayin some distractions fuckin on the happening.”

That ain’t sounded good at all. Not at all. “Distractions” could cover a fuckload of troubles.

His cigarette was smoked down; he stubbed it out, hard. Fucking Slobag. All the other else happening and now this shit to handle too.

“Maybe Slobag finally gonna stand he fuckin up, make a real move, yay,” Bump said. “Stead of the fuckin sneaky-side bullshit he been playin.”

Aye. Somebody were probably gonna stand up, but Terrible guessed it weren’t Slobag. Or whatany they was doing ain’t come from Slobag’s mind, leastaways. He were still giving the orders, but he asshole son Lex were the one suggesting them. “Thinking them meaning Slick? Be a distraction tryin catch who done him.”

Bump shrugged. Seemed like it took a long time. “Could fuckin be. Could fuckin be Sue what they meaning. Ain’t would fuckin put past them scumfuck shitlickers. Ain’t can get them cocks fuckin wet no other way, yay?”

Terrible shook his head. He ain’t wanted a disagreement, but … Damn. Slobag was scum and Lex was worse, but rape just didn’t feel like a game they’d play. Murder, aye; they’d killed Bump’s men before. But that was men, and it wasn’t rape, and Terrible just couldn’t see what fucking point rape would have as far as gaining territory or hurting Bump or whatany. Even as a distraction. Were lotsa other shit could be a distraction that ain’t meant raping whores.

So he said it. “Ain’t see Slobag ordering Sue, true thing. Slick, aye, but—”

Bump waved his hand. “Yay, were thinkin be fuckin wrongways, too, but who fuckin knowing fuckin plans they doin? What else they fuckin tryna get a takeover on, yay?”

Shit, he ain’t thought on that one. “Thinkin they do this, tryin get the whores come work for them? Sayin we ain’t can protect em, dig.”

“Yay, got the fuckin maybe on that one. Just might fuckin be it.”

Now that seemed more like the kinda game Lex’d just might play. Like he kinda move: sneaky, and who gave a fuck who got hurt.

But still. He couldn’t quite go that far. “Just seeming like rape be outside even them, aye? Hearing Lex awful fuckin protective on that sister he got, he taking that kinda shit real personal. Specially since she got sheself hit by that dude few years back.”

“Digging you fuckin meanings, yay, but ain’t wanting give the nay just on the yet. Ain’t put shit past them stealing motherfuckers. Ain’t got he no fuckin thought on what fuckin loyalty be, yay, so no fuckin thought on what fuckin be rightways an wrongways neither.” There was that hissy sound again. Bump’s eyes practically flashed red, he were so mad-looking; like he were a cartoon and had them wavy lines all around him. “Ain’t fuckin got none heself, yay, and none on that fuckin side, so’s him ain’t fuckin knowing any on what it meaning. Fuckin piece of shit scumbag fuck.”

That one were true, too. No loyalty that side of town at all; Slobag would sell out he own children iffen it’d put another lasher in he pocket, and Lex would do the same in return, so Terrible guessed. He’d only met Lex maybe three, four times, but it were enough to pretty much hate his fucking guts.

Enough to know he were a user, a liar, somebody sailed through life on all the shit he got just from being born: money he ain’t had to work for, power he ain’t had to work for, looks he ain’t had to work for. Lex always seemed surrounded by dames wanting him to walk all over em. And he did, and they begged for more. Must be nice being born lucky.

“I do some askin,” he said, causen Bump seemed to want him to say something. “See what I can find on it. An keep looking elsewheres too.”

Bump nodded and poured heself another drink. Were good, causen Terrible wanted him relaxed for this next one. Wished he ain’t had to talk on it at all just yet, but he did.

In the cabinet under the deer head were a little fridge; he got up and grabbed heself a beer, taking his time, taking a long drink. He lit a smoke. He sat back down and fidgeted around with he notebook and the ashtray until he couldn’t put it off no more. “Wanna chatter on Roley, dig. Got … got me some thinkin on he.”

“Roley? Cousin to Lacey an Vole, that fuckin Roley?”

Terrible nodded.

“So? What you fuckin thinkin, then, you wants chattering up on?”

“Thinkin … ” Fuck. All that considering he’d done and them notes he wrote, and none of it seemed any good. “Thinkin I ain’t like he, aye? Ain’t feel right to me.”

“Why come?” Bump ain’t sounded mad or any like that, only curious. That ain’t made it easier figuring out what to say, cause really, all Terrible had was a feeling. Cepting what happened the night before, he ain’t could really point straight at any one thing to say Roley were trouble. True thing was Roley’d been doing good, working hard, helping out and all. He just … something just ain’t seemed right.

But Bump’d want knowledge on specifics. So he took a deep breath and said, “Seen he on the last night, over Chuck’s. I were at the bar, he came sat with Amy. Upset her, aye? Tryin look down she dress, kept touching she thigh—”

“Thought you ain’t fuckin serious on Amy, yay? Why you fuckin caring iffen—”

“Naw, naw, ain’t that. Were—she push he hand off, he putting it back, dig? Like he got heself a right touchin any dame he wanting. An he had that she were there with me. Ain’t even tried hiding him knowledge on that, gave me the tell straight up, be why him sat with her. So when I at the bar he heads up to she, knowing she there with me, starts touching on she. An when she tries telling him stop he ain’t stopped. Dig?”

Bump considered it. “He ain’t workin near the fuckin whores, yay? Or no dames. Only fuckin working on side shit, an inna warehouses.”

“Aye, but weren’t all, neither. Asking me let he off work for the new year, got real fuckin shitty I gave him a no. Sayin he gonna talk to you, like makin a fuckin threat. Claiming him practically you family so he oughta get ahead on all them others been workin longer. An … ”

Had to be a good way of saying this, but he ain’t could figure out exactly how. Ain’t mattered, causen he could feel how hot his face and neck were. “Him started talking on Chess, dig. So I—”

“This ain’t—”

“Naw, naw. Saying on Chess an me, him were. Like he knowing some shit there. Were thinkin … maybe he getting some knowledge on shit we saying here, aye? You an me. Maybe somebody giving he the tell on it.”

“You fuckin out with she all the fuckin time, yay, buzzin around she like a fuckin fly with a hard-on, so why he ain’t would fuckin assume on it?”

“Weren’t assuming.” No point replying to the fly thing. “Said like he had knowledge how I—like he knowing all the tale. Ain’t were making guesses, dig. Said like him knew on it.”

Bump’s lips went real thin, he mouth almost disappearing. He leaned forward. “You fuckin got the thought Lacey giving the listening in, fuckin passing he knowledge?”

“Ain’t saying certain, dig, just … maybe she overhear shit, maybe she mentioning it thinking weren’t a big deal. But iffen she mentioning that, maybe she mention some else, too.”

Bump thought on it for a long time. Terrible waited. Ain’t really expected Bump to have a say for him just then anyroad; ain’t really expected Bump to give him what he were maybe thinking on how to chatter with Lacey on that.

Finally Bump said, “You be keeping you fuckin eyes on he, dig, you fuckin watching he hard. Ain’t fuckin letting he near Bump’s dames, yay, keeping he the fuck away an all, nowhere near. Lemme have the fuckin chattering on with Lacey, yay.”

Terrible nodded. “Any else?”

“Just you fuckin get em, yay? You finding who fuckin done to Sue, and you finding them fuckin Slobag men over here and make em dead, yay, real fuckin dead. Wanting dump them fuckin bodies right on the fuckin street there, let Slobag fuckin know he needs staying he own fuckin side. You get it done, Terrible. On the soon-as, you get it fuckin done.”