Live Girls (17 page)

“I am,” Davey said quickly, hurrying his pace.

Benedek kept up with him.

“I'll buy you a drink? Lunch? Just a half hour is all I need, really. How about a drink? Perfect weather for a nice hot buttered rum, huh?"

Without looking at the man, Davey thought about it. Despite his clothes and heavy coat, he felt cold, light, as if he'd lost a great deal of weight. A hot rum
would
be good
—
if he could keep it down. The sound of another voice
—
even a stranger's voice,
especially
a stranger's voice
—
might be welcome.

“My name won't be mentioned?” he asked.

“You won't have a name at all,” Benedek replied.

“Okay. A half hour."

“Great. C'mon, I know a place."

Benedek watched the young man slide into the booth in the quiet, shadowy bar. Davey had inconspicuously held on to rails, benches, walls, and doorjambs all the way over to the bar, as if to keep from falling. His eyelids were so heavy, the mere sight of them made Benedek feel a bit sleepy himself.

“So, Davey, what kinda work you in?"

“Publishing. At least, I
was
. I worked at Penn Publishing. But I, well, I quit. I got fed up."

“If you don't mind my asking,” Benedek said, getting comfortable at the table, “are you feeling okay?"

Davey scratched his chin and nodded. “I'm fighting the flu."

When the waitress came, Benedek ordered two hot buttered rums, then lit a cigarette. He took out his pad and pen and cleared his throat loudly.

“What was it,” he asked, “about that place, Live Girls, that attracted you?"

Davey shrugged. “First time I went in was yesterday. I was, I don't know, curious. My girlfriend had just left me that morning and I just wanted a diversion."

“Mm-hm.” Benedek made notes as if it were a legitimate interview. “Had you ever been in a place like that before?"

“No."

“What was your initial reaction?"

“A little sorry I'd gone in at first. It was dirty and dark and..."

The waitress brought their drinks and Benedek paid her.

“Look,” Davey said, “are you sure you don't want to talk to someone else? I mean, I don't exactly frequent those places."

“How many times you been in there?"

Davey sniffed and looked down at his drink.

“Three times."

“In two days? That's pretty frequent. Why'd you go back?” Benedek sipped his rum.

Davey lifted his drink and stared at it. He sipped the drink like a child taking cough medicine, and put it down. His face tensed, his lips pressed together hard. He smiled apologetically at Benedek.

“Sorry. My stomach's been a little upset."

Benedek nodded at Davey's drink. “That'll do you good. So, why'd you go back? Nothing better to do? They selling more than peep shows in there?"

“Why don't you go in and see for yourself?"

Good question
, Benedek thought.

“Because,” he said, “my opinion doesn't matter. I want this piece to focus on
your
feelings and the feelings of others who go in that place and places like it. I want the point of view of those who work there and the
—
"

Davey's brow creased. “Have you talked to the employees? From Live Girls, I mean?"

Benedek was intrigued. It seemed he'd almost snagged something here. “Should I?” he asked.

Davey took another drink without meeting Benedek's eyes. “I just ... wondered."

“Okay, back to my question. What made you want to go back in there?"

“I guess I was intrigued."

“That's all? Look, Davey, if they're doing something illegal in there, you can tell me. Like I said, your name and the name of the establishment will not be mentioned.” He slapped together a little fiction in his mind. Benedek had learned long ago that nothing loosened the tongue like a common experience. “When I was a young man living in Jersey, working my ass off to get into the newspaper business, there was this bar. The chicks'd get up on the bar and dance around and strip. Never all the way, not back then, but enough, you know? And this guy who'd been going there a lot longer than me told me a secret. The girls had this code. They'd look you in the eye, and if you wanted something, you were supposed to reach up and kinda pinch your nose, like you were scratching it. Then, while she was dancing, she'd put her finger in her mouth, meaning, ‘You wanna blow job?’ Or she'd make a fist
—
hand job. Or put her hand over her crotch
—‘
You wanna fuck?’ When she hit on the one you wanted, you pinched your nose again. Then she'd meet you in the employees’ bathroom, you'd pay her, and she'd do you. I used to go there all the time until the joint was busted one night
—
while I was there! I wasn't in the back, thank God. I wrote it all up and the story nailed me a job on some little rag.” He laughed, pleased with himself, thinking,
Walter, you are one consummate bullshit artist
.

“So,” he went on, “I didn't fall off the melon truck yesterday, Davey."

Davey stared at his rum. “Well,” he began slowly, “there's this girl..."

Benedek frowned. Davey seemed very nervous suddenly. No, afraid.

“Yeah, go on."

Benedek listened closely and made notes as Davey talked about his experiences inside Live Girls, about Anya, then, haltingly, like a shy young boy talking about his first kiss, about the blow job Anya had given him through the opening in the wall.

“Okay,” Benedek said with a grin. “Some gorgeous girl gives you a blow job, of course you go back, right?"

Looking at Benedek for the first time in several minutes, Davey opened his mouth to speak, then looked away.

“What is it, Davey?” Benedek asked quietly.

Davey shook his head.

“Come on, kid, is there more?"

“I think...” Davey whispered. His head was low and his fingers twitched around the glass. “I think she ... did something to me."

This is it
, Benedek thought excitedly.
Whatever it is, this is it
.

“What?” he asked. “What do you think she did to you?"

Davey took a big gulp of his drink and grabbed his coat. “I think I should go,” he said tremulously. “I'm not feeling so well and I should be in bed."

“Wait a sec, kid,” Benedek said as Davey slid out of the booth. “Don't go."

Davey stood, started to put on his coat, and fell down.

“Jesus,” Benedek muttered, kneeling beside him. “You okay?"

“I'm fine ... fine,” Davey breathed, sitting up. “Just drinking on an empty stomach, I guess."

Benedek looked at him closely. There were dark circles under his eyes and his face was pale.

Maybe he's always pale
, he thought,
what do I know?
But he doubted it. When Benedek saw him yesterday, he'd seemed, even at a distance, quite healthy.

The waitress dashed to their table, plump and breathless and bleached blond. “What is it?” she asked. “What's wrong?"

Benedek scowled up at her and said, “Can't you see the man hasn't had enough liquor? Bring another hot rum.” He helped Davey to his feet and seated him at the table, then sat across from him. “Davey,” he said quietly, “tell me about this girl."

“Well, she's ... beautiful. Absolutely, unbelievably beautiful.” His eyes brightened. “I went back later that afternoon. Then last night. I met her outside the place. She was on her way to this club where she dances. The Midnight Club."

Benedek wrote it down. “Think I've heard of it. That's the one over on ... let's see, the corner of..."

“It's in Tribeca."

"That's
right.” Benedek made a quick note of it.

“As far as I can tell,” Davey continued, “the club is run by the same people who run Live Girls."

Benedek looked up from his pad. “Really?"

“Anyway, I went there with her and watched her dance, then I went
—”
He sighed. “I can't believe I'm telling you this. I don't even know you.” His words came slowly and slurred a bit from the rum.

“All the better, Davey, believe me. Strangers are the best confidants. They don't know any of your friends, so they can't gossip. So what did you do, take her home?"

“I went to her place."

“And?"

“I went to bed with her...” His face clouded. “And she sent me away."

“You see her today?"

“I'm going to. Later today. We're meeting."

Benedek reached up and rubbed his forehead hard. Something about this was all so wrong it smelled. “You said earlier, Davey, that she'd done something to you. What was it?"

“I'm not sure, but I think she ... bit me ... and now I'm ... sick."

Benedek chilled. “She
bit
you? Where?"

Davey simply shook his head as the waitress brought another rum.

“Between ... between my ... legs.” The words seemed to stick in his throat like fishbones.

Benedek had to fight the urge to grab Davey's arms and shake answers out of him. He scrubbed his face with his big hand, lit a cigarette, and took a good swallow of his drink.

“Look, Davey, I want to talk to you more about this, okay? Something's not right here. Tell you what, my wife's a doctor. You come home with me and she can
—
"

“No.” He took his coat again and stood, slowly and carefully this time.

Benedek could see by the look on his face that Davey regretted having talked with him. He could also see that Davey hadn't told him everything.

“Davey, wait. I wanna help you."

“I'm fine. It's nothing. Thanks for the drink.” Davey started out of the bar, walking quickly, but careful to keep his balance.

Benedek grabbed his pad and followed him outside. He watched Davey stagger until he fell to the sidewalk.

“Here, Davey,” Benedek said, squatting beside him.

“Really, I'm okay."

“You're
not
okay, Goddammit."

Benedek got him on his feet and supported him with a big arm. “C'mon, we'll get you home,” he said, leading Davey to the curb and waving for a cab. Two ignored him; the third pulled over. Benedek opened the door, helped Davey inside, and slid in beside him. He turned to Davey. “What's the address?"

Benedek repeated the address to the driver and they drove into the halting traffic.

“I wish you'd just leave me alone,” Davey said quietly.

“Look, Davey, I want you to listen to me, okay? I'm not writing a feature article on the sex business. I'm not writing
anything
. I'm a reporter for the
Times
, but I'm on vacation right now. The reason I asked you all those questions is that I think there is something very wrong about Live Girls, something dangerous."

“Like what?"

“I don't know yet, that's why I talked to you. I saw you go in there twice yesterday. I was
—
"

“You were following me?"

“No, no, not you. I was looking for my brother-in-law."

“I don't understand."

Benedek explained to Davey the change in Vernon's behavior after he started frequenting Live Girls; he told him about the murder of his sister and niece. “For a while,” Benedek said, “Doris thought he was sick. He became pale, lost some weight. She also thought he was seeing another woman.” He watched Davey, waiting for a reaction, hoping he would make the connection. Davey's face remained weary and unaffected. “Like I said, Davey, my wife's a doctor. If you'd just
—
"

“No! I don't want to see a doctor.” He looked away from Benedek. “I'm going to be fine.” He shrugged. “Well, maybe I picked up something in that place. If it doesn't go away, I'll see someone."

“Okay, fine. But will you at least do one thing?"

The cab stopped at Davey's building.

Benedek asked, “Will you stay away from Live Girls? From Anya?"