Inherent Vice (25 page)

“
What about your lab?
”
Doc said, to say something.
“
They ever watch what they process?
”

“
Not too likely,
”
Farley said,
“
they
’
re used to me by now, think I
’
m crazy.
”

“
Can they run off an extra print? Maybe enlarge a frame or two? I
’
m wonderin what
’
s behind those masks.
”

“
Resolution goes all to hell,
”
Farley shrugged,
“
but I guess you could try.
”

around lunchtime next day
the Princess phone started jingling.

“
Holy shit,
é
se,
you
’
re real.
”

“
At least one day a week. You must
’ve
lucked out. Who is this?
”

“
He forgot me already.
Sinverg
ü
enza,
as my grandma would say.
”

“
Trick question, Luz, how you been,
mi
amor
?”

“
Your strange way of flirting.
”

“
You
’
re off today, I hope.
”

Close to the office, within walking distance in fact, was a small ex-neighborhood,
it’s
houses all con
demned for an airport extension
which may have existed only as some bureaucratic fantasy. Empty but not deserted exactly. Questionable movies were being shot inside. Drug
and weapons drops were being made. Chicano bikers were having furtive
noontime trysts with young Anglo executives in tax-deductible toupees
that retained in their Dynel thatchwork the smell of bars downtown at
lunchtime. Dopers were getting off on the airplanes a couple inches over their heads, and particularly unhappy area residents from PV to Point
Dume were out scouting potential suicide sites.

Luz showed up in a red SS396 she kept saying she
’
d borrowed from
her brother, though Doc thought he detected a boyfriend someplace
in the subtext. She was wearing cutoff jeans, cowgirl boots, and a tiny
T-shirt that matched the car.

They found an empty house and went inside. Luz had brought a bot
tle of Cuervo. There was a queen-size mattress with cigarette burns in it, a French Provincial floor-model TV with the screen all kicked in, a
number of empty five-gallon joint-compound containers that people had
been using for picnic furniture.

“
I see in the papers that Mickey
’
s still missing.
”

“
Even the FBI don
’
t come around no more, Riggs split again for the
desert, and Sloane and me, we
’
ve become very close.
”

“
How, ah, close would that be?
”

“
That bed downstairs Mickey would never fuck me on? That
’
s ours
now.
”

“
Uhm...
”

“
What
’
s this I
’
m lookin at here?
”

“
Well come on, it
’
s a interesting thought ain
’
t it, the two of you ...
”

“
You guys and this lesbian thing... Why don
’
t you just get com
fortable down there—no, I meant down there—and I
’
ll tell you all the
details.
”

Passenger jets came thundering in every couple of minutes. The
house shook. Sometimes when Luz parted her legs briefly, Doc thought
he could hear landing-gear tires rolling across the roof. The louder it got,
the more excited she became.
“
What happens if one comes in a little too
low? We can be dead, right?
”
She grabbed two handfuls of his hair and
pushed his face away from her pussy.
“
What
’
s the matter, motherfucker,
you can
’
t hear me?
”

Whatever he was going to say would
’ve
been drowned out in another
deafening approach, and anyway what Luz wanted now was to fuck, which is what they did, and after a while they lit up a joint and she was talking about Sloane.

“
These English chicks, they get to Califas they don
’
t know how to behave. They see these people, man, all this money and real estate and
none of them with any idea what to do with it. First thing anybody hears
when we get across the border—
esta
gente no sabe nada.
So Sloane has all
this resentment. Whenever she finds out about any piece of money that
’
s
there to be grabbed, she thinks she
’
s the one that should have it. For
Riggs it
’
s always more like, not that he should get it, but that some other
asshole shouldn
’
t.
”

“
What the heat like to call
‘
theft.
’”

“
They
might. Sloane likes to call it
‘
reallocation.
’”

“
So what was it, her and Riggs were skimming off Mickey,
double-billing his clients, stiffing his contractors, or what?
”

Luz shrugged.
“
Wasn
’
t my business.
”

“
Did they just spend their time running different hustles, or did they at least fuck once in a while?
”

“
Riggs said it wasn
’
t so much that he got to fuck her as that Mickey didn
’
t.
”

“
Uh, huh. What
’
d Riggs have against her husband?
”

“
Nothing. They were ol
’
compinches.
Riggs would have never gone near Sloane
’
s pussy if Mickey hadt
’
n encouraged him.
”

“
Mickey was gay?
”

“
Mickey fucked other women. He just wanted Sloane to have some fun, too. Him and Riggs worked together on different projects, Riggs stayed at the house when he was in town, couldn
’
t keep from jerking
himself off anytime Sloane was in the room, seemed like a natural choice
for Mickey to fix her up with.
..
along with the usual selling points, big dick, young, poor enough to keep on some kind of a leash.
‘
Course, Sloane wasn
’
t too hot for the idea at first, because she hated to owe Mickey for anything.
”

“
But.
..
”

“
Why are you so interested in this?
”

“
Carryings-on of the rich and powerful. Better than reading the
Enquirer
.
”

“
Plus you don
’
t get to fuck no newspaper, do you, my li
’
l Anglo
hijo de
puta.
..
.
”

“
Fuckfuck,
”
suggested Doc amiably,
“
otra vez,
¿
si?
”

So he was a little late getting back to the office, and for days he would be making up explanations for all the visible hickeys and claw marks and so on. As Luz prepared to zoom away in the Super Sport, Doc said,
“
One
thing. What do you think really happened to Mickey?
”

She grew unflirtatious, almost somber. Her beauty deepening somehow.
“
I just hope he
’
s alive, man. He wasn
’
t that bad of a person.
”

looking forward to
a peaceful morning at the office, Doc had just lit up when the antique intercom started in with
it’s
guttural buzz.
He moved a couple of Bakelite switches and heard somebody who might
be Petunia downstairs yelling his name. This usually meant there was
a visitor, most likely a chick, given the breathless interest Petunia main
tained in Doc
’
s social life.
“
Thanks,
‘
Tune—
”
Doc screamed back cordially,
“
send her right on up, and did I mention incidentally your outfit
this morning is especially striking, that daffodil shade picks up the color of
your
eyes
,”
knowing little if any of this would get through without heavy
distortion.

On the off chance his unknown visitor might take a dim view of marijuana use, Doc ran around with a can of supermarket-brand air freshener, filling the office with a horrible
thick mist of synthetic floral
notes. The door opened and in stepped this, have mercy, this incredible
looker, even with the reduced visibility and all. Red hair, leather jacket, tiny little skirt, cigarette stuck to a lower lip that looked more desirable
the closer she got.

“
Cootie food!
”
Doc screamed involuntarily, having been told once
that this was French for
“
Love at first sight!
”

“
Remains to be seen,
”
she said,
“
but what is this smell in here, it
’
s
fuckin nauseating.
”

He looked at the label on the aerosol can.
’”
Wildflower Whimsy
’
?
”

“
A gas-station toilet in Death Valley would be ashamed to smell like
this. Meantime, I
’
m Clancy Charlock.
”
She put her arm out full length
and they shook hands.

“
Glen Charlock
’
s ...
”
Doc began, about the same time she said,
“
sis
ter.
”
“
Well. I
’
m sorry about your brother.
”

“
Glen was a shit, and bound to have his series canceled sometime.
That don
’
t keep me from wanting to know who his killer is.
”

“
You talk to the police?
”

“
More like they talked to me. Some smart-ass named Bjornsen. Can
’
t
say it was too encouraging. Would you mind not staring at my tits like
that?
”

“
Who— Oh. Must
’
ve been trying to
...
read your T-shirt?
”

“
It
’
s like a picture? of Frank Zappa?
”

“
So it is.... You say now... Lieutenant Bjornsen referred you tome?

“
He sounded a lot more concerned with Mickey Wolfmann
’
s disap
pearance than Glen
’
s murder, which given LAPD
’
s priorities is no big surprise. But I guess he
’
s a fan of yours.
”
She had been looking around
the office, and her tone was doubtful.
“
Excuse me, is that a half-smoked
joint in your ashtray there?
”

“
Ah! frightfully unsociable of me, please, here
’
s a new one, all ready
to light, see?
”

If he was expecting a romantic smoke sequence along the lines of
Now, Voyager
(1942), this was not to be—before he could raise a sophis
ticated eyebrow, Clancy had seized the joint, clanked open a Zippo and fired it up, and by the time Doc got it back it was less than half
it’s
origi
nal length.
“
Interesting shit,
”
she remarked when she finally got around
to exhaling. Then they had a prolonged, and for Doc erectile, moment
of eye contact.

Be professional, now, he advised himself.
“
The theory downtown is
that your brother tried to prevent whoever it was from putting the snatch
on Wolfmann and got shot for doing his job.
”

“
Way too sentimental.
”
She had slid into the green and fuchsia
lunchroom booth and had her elbows on the table.
“
If there was a snatch
in the works, Glen was more likely to be in on it. Being paid for look
ing bad is fine, but any real trouble and Glen
’
s reflex was always to just
split.
”

“
Then maybe he saw something he shouldn
’
t have.
”

She nodded to herself for a while. Finally,
“
Well.
..
yep, that
’
s how
Boris has it figured, too.
”

“
Who?
”

“
Another member of Mickey
’
s muscle patrol. They
’
ve all dropped out
of sight, but last night Boris called me late. We have some history. To look at him, he
’
s nobody you
’
d want to get agitated, but I can tell you,
right now he
’
s scared shitless.
”

“
What oft
”

“
He wouldn
’
t say.
”

“
Think he
’
d talk to me?
”

“
Worth a try.
”

“
There
’
s the phone.
”