comfortable they are with my face.”
“Are you wired?” Holden asked.
“Would I walk in here with a fucking microphone? They’d chop me in their kitchen and serve me as cheap steak. They’re telepathic, Holden, just like a witch. They could tell if a man was wearing a wire.”
“What about Huevo’s witch, his madrina? Do you know who she is? I can lay some money on you.”
“Shh, don’t talk money,” Nunco said. “How do I know you’re not an IAD man?”
“Do I look like a cop? How could I be with Internal Affairs?”
“You’re fucking untouchable. You whack this guy, that guy, and you’re still on the street.”
“Forget I ever talked money. Can you tell me the most logical candidate for Huevo’s madrina?”
“There is no candidate. Madrinas and logic don’t mix. Can I drive you anywhere, Holden?”
Nunco brought him back to the Algonquin, but the British furrier had checked out. Holden would have to grab him next season. He returned to the fur market. It was Saturday night. Even Nick’s aristocratic nailers and cutters would be gone. And Nick himself? Smoking hash or lying down with a debutante at Muriel’s, because Nick hated to be alone. He needed the cutters around him when he was scribbling the outlines of a coat. He’d never married. He’d choose a girl at Muriel’s, be attentive for a month, and then abandon her to the fury of his designing board.
Holden took the freight car up to Aladdin, and unlocked the elevator door. The factory was dark, but Holden could smell the skins nailed to the boards. He was about to enter his office when he felt a sudden tickle. His bumper’s intuition told him that his bedroom-office was boobytrapped. He expected a firebomb to explode in his face on the other side of the door. He removed his turquoise coat, held it in front of him like an asbestos cape, undid the locks, and shoved into the room with his Beretta.
A body flitted around in the dark.
“Stand still, or I’ll turn your head into bumpkin soup.”
The body paused and Holden put on the lights. It was Abruzzi’s daughter-in-law in the purple dress.
“How did you get in here, Mrs. Abruzzi?”
“I came with Robert ... he let me stay.”
“He unlocked my office?”
“Yes. Isn’t he your lawyer?”
“That doesn’t give him the right of entry.”
“Well, he has your keys.”
She wasn’t such a gloomy bitch in Holden’s office. Her Rockaway melody had come back to her.
“What does the ‘S’ stand for?”
“‘S’?”
“On the door. S. Holden, it says.”
“Why’d you come here?”
“Because I wanted to talk, and I couldn’t do that with Rex around. I didn’t mean to startle you. But my father-in-law told me you were badly hurt on my account, that Michael’s sister tried to kill you.”
“He kidnaps you and you call him Michael?” Holden said, profoundly jealous.
“What else should I call him? I lived with him and his brothers six or seven days.”
Holden returned the gun to its cradle and put on his turquoise coat. “Mikey made you walk around naked. Didn’t that bother you?”
“At first, yes. But I understood the reason behind it. He didn’t want me running away. And where could I run without my clothes?”
“And Eddie and the Rat never patted your behind?”
“Michael wouldn’t have allowed it.”
“They didn’t say things to you, rotten, lousy things?”
“Yes, they did, but I got used to it after a while. They were like children. It was the only kind of talk they knew ... I’m a sociologist. At least I was before I married. Modes of speech interest me a lot.”
“And you were interested in Ed and the Rat?”
“Immensely ... I cooked for all the brothers. I mended their shirts.”
“I didn’t save you. I interfered with your life. You would have been happy to stick it out in the bungalow for a year.”
“No,” she said. “I have two little girls at home. I couldn’t have abandoned them.”
“Mrs. Abruzzi, Mike was my
“Are you wired?” Holden asked.
“Would I walk in here with a fucking microphone? They’d chop me in their kitchen and serve me as cheap steak. They’re telepathic, Holden, just like a witch. They could tell if a man was wearing a wire.”
“What about Huevo’s witch, his madrina? Do you know who she is? I can lay some money on you.”
“Shh, don’t talk money,” Nunco said. “How do I know you’re not an IAD man?”
“Do I look like a cop? How could I be with Internal Affairs?”
“You’re fucking untouchable. You whack this guy, that guy, and you’re still on the street.”
“Forget I ever talked money. Can you tell me the most logical candidate for Huevo’s madrina?”
“There is no candidate. Madrinas and logic don’t mix. Can I drive you anywhere, Holden?”
Nunco brought him back to the Algonquin, but the British furrier had checked out. Holden would have to grab him next season. He returned to the fur market. It was Saturday night. Even Nick’s aristocratic nailers and cutters would be gone. And Nick himself? Smoking hash or lying down with a debutante at Muriel’s, because Nick hated to be alone. He needed the cutters around him when he was scribbling the outlines of a coat. He’d never married. He’d choose a girl at Muriel’s, be attentive for a month, and then abandon her to the fury of his designing board.
Holden took the freight car up to Aladdin, and unlocked the elevator door. The factory was dark, but Holden could smell the skins nailed to the boards. He was about to enter his office when he felt a sudden tickle. His bumper’s intuition told him that his bedroom-office was boobytrapped. He expected a firebomb to explode in his face on the other side of the door. He removed his turquoise coat, held it in front of him like an asbestos cape, undid the locks, and shoved into the room with his Beretta.
A body flitted around in the dark.
“Stand still, or I’ll turn your head into bumpkin soup.”
The body paused and Holden put on the lights. It was Abruzzi’s daughter-in-law in the purple dress.
“How did you get in here, Mrs. Abruzzi?”
“I came with Robert ... he let me stay.”
“He unlocked my office?”
“Yes. Isn’t he your lawyer?”
“That doesn’t give him the right of entry.”
“Well, he has your keys.”
She wasn’t such a gloomy bitch in Holden’s office. Her Rockaway melody had come back to her.
“What does the ‘S’ stand for?”
“‘S’?”
“On the door. S. Holden, it says.”
“Why’d you come here?”
“Because I wanted to talk, and I couldn’t do that with Rex around. I didn’t mean to startle you. But my father-in-law told me you were badly hurt on my account, that Michael’s sister tried to kill you.”
“He kidnaps you and you call him Michael?” Holden said, profoundly jealous.
“What else should I call him? I lived with him and his brothers six or seven days.”
Holden returned the gun to its cradle and put on his turquoise coat. “Mikey made you walk around naked. Didn’t that bother you?”
“At first, yes. But I understood the reason behind it. He didn’t want me running away. And where could I run without my clothes?”
“And Eddie and the Rat never patted your behind?”
“Michael wouldn’t have allowed it.”
“They didn’t say things to you, rotten, lousy things?”
“Yes, they did, but I got used to it after a while. They were like children. It was the only kind of talk they knew ... I’m a sociologist. At least I was before I married. Modes of speech interest me a lot.”
“And you were interested in Ed and the Rat?”
“Immensely ... I cooked for all the brothers. I mended their shirts.”
“I didn’t save you. I interfered with your life. You would have been happy to stick it out in the bungalow for a year.”
“No,” she said. “I have two little girls at home. I couldn’t have abandoned them.”
“Mrs. Abruzzi, Mike was my
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