Hollywood Moon (42 page)

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Authors: Joseph Wambaugh

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BOOK: Hollywood Moon
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Tristan took the cue and said, “Jerzy, how ’bout takin’ him down to the basement for some serious talk. Call me with good
news when you get it.” Then he said, “Dude, I’m afraid I gotta leave you alone with Jerzy. He’ll take the gloves off and put
some serious hurt on you, but you ain’t givin’ me no choice.”

Jerzy and Dewey both began shuffling and grunting their way to the door and before it closed behind them, Dewey said, “Creole,
at least take the tape off her. Have some compassion!”

When they were outside, Dewey and Jerzy descended the staircase and went to the van, where they got inside and sat. Jerzy
opened a can of beer and Dewey looked at his watch. It was 1:25
A.M
.

“We’ll give them twenty minutes,” he said to Jerzy, who was unresponsive.

Dewey could smell days of body odor. He opened the door of the van, and Jerzy said, “Where you goin’?”

“To take a leak.”

“Well, don’t go far,” Jerzy said.

“It’s my wife that’s your prisoner,” Dewey said. “Not me.”

“That sorta depends how you look at it,” Jerzy said. “So piss here beside the van. I won’t peek at the little worm when you
let him outta your pants.”

Tristan said, “Look, lady, I don’t wanna see you or your old man get hurt bad, but you gotta understand, you ain’t leavin’
here till we get what we’re after. And my peckerwood partner, he’s a violent dude. Do you see that?”

Still, Eunice did not reply. All Tristan heard was her breath rattling. It was making him nervous, and he said, “Do you have
some kinda lung problem?”

There was no answer, so he said, “Do you wanna go to the bathroom?”

And at last Eunice spoke. She said, “Yes.”

Tristan said, “Okay, what we’re gonna do here is, I’m gonna cut the tape off your ankles and your wrists. You’re gonna go
in there and do what you gotta do, but do not touch the blindfold. If you do, I’m gonna whap you upside the head with a lead
pipe I got in my belt, and then I’m gonna tape up your wrists and your ankles and your mouth. And you might jist suffocate.
You understand?”

Eunice nodded her head, and Tristan said, “Goddamnit, woman, say the words!”

“I understand,” she said.

“Okay,” Tristan said, and he took a penknife from his pocket and began sawing through the tape on her ankles. He left the
tape sticking to each leg when he got through and said, “You can go ahead and move your feet if you want. Must be cramped
up by now.” Then he began sawing through the tape on her wrists.

She moaned in relief when she could move her hands to the front of her body, and she stripped the duct tape from each wrist
and threw it behind her into the middle of the room.

“Get up,” Tristan said, and he held on to Eunice’s right arm as she slid her legs across the bed until her feet were on the
floor.

“One of my heels is broken off,” she said.

“Well, I’ll send you a new pair of shoes when I get the money,” Tristan said. “Now stand up, and I’ll lead you to the bathroom
and you can feel where the toilet is and the sink.”

Eunice stood and kicked off both shoes, walking barefoot to the tiny bathroom. Tristan turned her so that her back was to
the toilet and said, “You can sit down when you’re ready. The toilet paper is up on the sink to your right. There’s a bar
of soap there too, but I forgot to bring paper towels.”

“Would you please close the door?” Eunice said.

“Ain’t no way in the world that’s gonna happen,” Tristan said. “But I’ll turn my head away if that makes you feel better.
I ain’t interested in watchin’ somebody on a toilet, trust me.”

“How do I know that?” Eunice said. “I can’t see.”

“You can take my word for it, woman,” Tristan said. “Because I’m the only one here that can keep my crazy fuckin’ partner
from doin’ some things you won’t like at all. You can think of me as your protector, if you cooperate.”

Without responding, Eunice reached under her dress, pulled her panties down, and sat carefully on the toilet seat. After hearing
the stream for twenty seconds, Tristan said, “Yeah, you did have to pee, all right.”

A moment later she was standing in front of the sink, where she found the faucet, cold only, and washed her hands, drying
them on her dress. Then she felt Tristan take her arm again and lead her back to the bed.

“You aren’t gonna tape me up again, are you?” she said.

“No, but I’m gonna chain your wrists to the bed. I was gonna chain your ankles too, but I’ll see how things work out. If you
or your husband don’t cooperate, your ankles will get chained and then I’ll have to let Jerzy do what he does.”

“Where is my husband?” Eunice said.

“In the basement of this here place,” Tristan said.

“What’s happening down there?”

“You can guess, can’t you?” Tristan said.

Eunice was silent again until he wrapped the chain around each wrist and locked the links together with the padlocks. The
chain encircled the steel frame of the old bed.

When Eunice spoke she said, “Why do I have to wear this blindfold? My husband knows both of you very well. Why the blindfold?”

“Because we don’t want you to have any idea where you’re at,” Tristan said.

“I can understand why you did that when you were driving us here, but now that we’re at the destination, why can’t you take
it off? All I’ll see is the room.”

He wasn’t ready for a question that logical asked so dispassionately. The woman was thinking, and Tristan was starting to
conclude that she might be way smarter than her old man.

“If you could see where a window is at, you might be tempted to take a flyin’ leap at it next time I take you to the bathroom.
The blindfold stays on.”

Tristan’s cell rang and he opened it and said, “Yo.”

Jerzy on his cell said, “We’re comin’ up now.”

“Five more minutes, wood,” Tristan said. “Gimme five more minutes.”

“Okay, but then we’re comin’ up and I’ll take over,” Jerzy said.

Tristan clicked off and said, “Lady, my partner ain’t had the success he hoped for with your husband and now he wants to start
on you. Why not save both of you a lotta pain and tell us how one of you can get us our five hundred grand. You can get outta
this in one piece and go out and steal another five hundred grand from people the way you stole this batch. You ain’t stupid.
So don’t do somethin’ real dumb here, okay?”

“Would your partner take me down in the basement too?” Eunice asked.

Damn! Tristan thought. Does she suspect something? Maybe that there’s no basement and that Bernie is in on this gag? He said,
“Whether he does it here or in the basement, you ain’t gonna like it either way. Jist get us what we want.”

“We don’t have five hundred thousand dollars,” Eunice said.

“How much you got?”

“Very little. We might be able to come up with the five thousand that my husband offered you. Maybe a little more.”

“Don’t say that to my partner, woman. That’s all I can say.”

“Would you let me go so I can get some money from the bank for you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tristan said. “We’ll drop you off at Bank of America or somewheres and let you and him bounce inside to make a
withdrawal.”

“I didn’t mention him,” she said. “You could keep him in the basement as a hostage.”

It was at that moment that Tristan Hawkins began to get a very strong feeling that doing the gag his way was doomed. And that
only Jerzy could get the information out of her, by doing it his way.

That’s when he heard the heavy footsteps, bumping sounds, and whimpers from Dewey. The door opened and Jerzy stomped in, playing
his part to the hilt, and Dewey, now a balls-out method actor, dragged himself across the floor and fell heavily onto his
stomach with a plaintive “Ohhhhhh.”

“Tell you what,” Tristan said. “You two have a nice little talk and we’ll be back in ten minutes for your final answer. By
the way, man, would you like to take a leak?”

“He already did,” Jerzy said with the snuffling giggle that Tristan had come to hate. “Look at the front of his pants.”

“Let’s give them some space,” Tristan said.

After the door had closed, Dewey gradually quieted down, erupting in a sob only every so often, when he felt the timing was
right. He knew that this was his last chance to persuade her, and he wanted her to speak first. But she was silent.

A moment passed before she said, “Are you blindfolded, Dewey?”

Perfect, he thought. She didn’t ask how badly he was hurt or what they’d done to him. She’s thinking of how to escape! “Of
course,” he croaked, followed by a whimper.

More silence, until she finally said, “Are you hurt bad?”

He thought about trying wry laughter but wasn’t certain he could pull it off. Then he said, whispery, “I don’t hurt
good,
I can tell you that!”

“So, what did he do to you?” she said without emotion.

“He’s very good at those fucking body shots. Now I know I got cracked ribs. And he loves to squeeze my balls until I’m… I’m…
crying like a little girl and puking my guts out.” And then Dewey surprised himself by actually crying. It was coming back
to him as good as it ever had. He was Dewey Gleason, kidnap victim. He was absolutely in character. He still had the old acting
chops!

“Were you able to get some idea of where we are?” she asked after he calmed himself.

“I think… think it’s a two-story house. All I could smell was mold and mildew in the basement. And him. You can smell him
more than… than anything. I… I don’t want him to touch you with his filthy hands, Eunice!”

She didn’t reply for another agonizing minute, and then she said, “How do they think they can get away with this, even if
we gave them money?” Eunice said. “These’re guys you know.”

Dewey sighed and said, “Oh, God! I don’t know what’s hurting more, my ribs or my nuts. What? What did you say?”

“I’m saying that you could help the police to find these two, and they know it. Do they plan to kill us after they get the
ransom, or what?”

“They know more about us than we do about them,” Dewey said. “They believe we’d never dare go to the police, no matter what
they do to us. They think they could tell enough about us to get the cops unraveling our business and retrieving what’s on
your computers. Where there’s enough data to send us away for twenty years for grand theft and forgery. That’s what Jerzy
told me between our little sessions down there. They don’t feel like they have to worry about cops at all. Pardon the pun,
but he says they have us by the balls.”

“Did he specifically ask questions about my computers?” Eunice asked calmly.

Dewey felt like screaming, but he just raised his whisper a few octaves and said, “Goddamnit, yes! They found my Bernie Graham
ID in my wallet. And I told him what I know, which isn’t much. And I woulda told him anything else he wanted to know. And
so will you if that bastard starts working on you.”

“Okay, get a grip,” Eunice said. “We gotta figure out a way to pay them a little something. They know they’ll have to let
one of us outta here to accomplish that.”

“They want five hundred thousand, Eunice. They’re not gonna settle for a little something.”

“When they come back up here, I’ll bargain with them,” she said. “They’re your runners. They’re petty thieves, not killers.”

“Jerzy’s got the instincts of one,” Dewey said bleakly. “Don’t underestimate him, Eunice. I’m begging you.”

“Let me handle it when they come back,” she said. And then she said quickly, “What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch and said, “Quarter to two.” And then he added, “More or less. Jerzy told me it was one thirty when
he dragged me in here.”

She was quiet again, and he was furious with himself for looking at his watch and blurting out the time. When he spoke again,
he said, “I don’t have the same opinion of Jerzy that you have. Not anymore. I hope you’ll buy me outta here, Eunice. Don’t
leave me here and just hope for the best.”

“I’ll take care of things, Dewey” was all she said.

When the door opened again, Tristan and Jerzy entered, the Polack wearing a leather jacket even though the night was still
warm. Dewey saw a look of grim determination on Creole’s face.

Tristan said, “We ain’t wastin’ no more time with you two. We want the five hundred grand, and you’re gonna tell us how to
get it.”

“We don’t have five hundred thousand,” Eunice said.

“No?” Tristan said.

“We have twelve thousand and change,” she said. “That’s all there is.”

“Really?” Tristan said. “And we can have it, huh?”

“Yes,” Eunice said, “if you let us go.”

“What’s gonna happen now ain’t my fault,” Tristan said. “It’s your fault. We’re gonna take one of you home. And the other
one’s gonna stay.”

“Let her go, Creole,” Dewey said. “She’ll keep her word.”

“You’re the one who’s goin’ home,” Tristan said. “Get on your feet.”

Dewey made struggling sounds and stood up. He said, “I’m begging you! Let Ethel go! Keep me here!”

“We’re through with all that,” Tristan said. “It’s time for all us thieves to learn how our world turns bad sometimes.”

Dewey stood looking back at Eunice, blindfolded and chained to the bed, and wanted to say something to her but could not.

Still grim, Tristan said, “Say good-bye for now to your old lady, Bernie. You and me, we’re gonna go to your crib and have
a little nap till we get a call. Then we’re gonna get the money, and it ain’t gonna be no twelve grand and change.”

“Can I have a cigarette?” Eunice said, still strangely composed.

And Dewey was certain now that she either had not bought into this gag or she could not make herself believe that their former
runners would actually torture her. Dewey looked into Tristan’s eyes and saw that Creole agreed with his assessment.

“I need me a smoke too,” Jerzy said, pulling off his baseball cap and dropping it onto the floor. His hair looked like a colorless
tangle of fishing line.

“This ain’t no time to be burnin’ a pipe,” Tristan said when he saw Jerzy take the glass meth pipe from his jacket pocket
and put it on the kitchen counter.

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