Maude Brown's Baby (16 page)

“My friends call me Maye.”

“Nice to meet you, Maye.”

Maye stared for a moment at Donald’s thick glasses, then turned to search her purse for a fresh smoke.

“Foots,” she said, raising the cigarette to her lips, “ask Ruben to bring me a gin fizz. Order anything you want. Sergio is buying.”

Jake pulled the curtain aside just enough to get the attention of the man behind the bar, then drew it closed it again. Maye smiled at Donald. She nudged her ankle against the side of his calf and left it there. Donald felt sweat trickle down his back and wished he could remove his jacket. At least
the ceiling fans were on. There was a polite knock at the end of the booth and Jake slid the curtain aside once more to address Ruben.

“Another fizz for the lady,” Jake said. “And I’ll have a beer. Do you
have
Southern Select
?”

“Certainly
. We have all the local beers on tap, and several others in cans.”

“The
Select
for me. Don, how about you?” Jake pulled back the curtain a few inches more so Donald could see the bartender.

Donald was about to order his favorite, a
Triple-X
cream soda, when Maye spoke up, jabbing her unlit cigarette across the table.

“Is this boy old enough to drink?”

“A
Southern Select
for me, too,” Donald heard himself say, “and a shaker of salt.”

“Very good,” said the bartender.

Jake winked at Donald as he snapped the curtain closed. He turned to light Maye’s cigarette, cupping his hands around the match. She held her own hand over his a few seconds longer than it took to get the light. She inhaled deeply, then tilted her head back to exhale. With the last of her air, she rounded her lips and puffed.

Donald watched, open mouthed, as
a perfect smoke ring drifted toward the ceiling. Under the table, Maye’s ankle felt warm against his leg.

Another quiet knock. Ruben was back with a tray of drinks and bowl of salted nuts. Jake used the shaker to sprinkle salt around the rim of his glass. Donald did the same with his own, as he’d seen Clarence do many times.

Before taking the first sip, Jake raised his glass high over the center of the table.

“Well, as the Tommies say, cheers!”

“Cheers,” said Donald.

“Cheers,” said Maye, clinking her highball glass to theirs. “But tell me, Foot
s, what would you know about Tommies?” Maye, grinning now, raised her glass again. “To all slackers!”

“Cut it out, Maye.”

She took another sip, then leaned hard against Jake’s shoulder, studying him over the rim of her glass. Donald fought to keep his eyes from her cleavage. It was an interesting term, cleavage, and purely abstract until now.

“Did Beno do this to you?” Jake said, lifting his little finger from his glass toward Maye’s black eye.
                           

“The evil bastard—
may he rot in hell.” Maye sat up. She paused to pick a bit of fresh tobacco from between her lips, examined it briefly, then flicked it toward the rear of the booth. A stain matching the color of her lips already coated one end of her smoke.

“Yes, he did this. Your friend was in town and I went to see him. Nice boy. Just a friendly visit. We had a couple of drinks before that ape kicked in the door. I thought your friend was going to wet himself.”

“You didn’t tell Elton about Beno?”

“I forgot.”

“What happened then?”

“I screamed. The dumb bastard hit me, then he started on your friend. When he saw the camera, he kicked that around, too. I yelled for Elton to run.”

“Did he?” Donald said, no longer able to keep silent.

“Yes. The window was open, b
ut we were on the third floor, too high to jump. He made it to the fire escape, then the Great Ape chased him down the stairs.”

“Do you know what he did with Elton?” Jake demanded.

“Hell no! By then, people down the hall were shouting and I could hear the night clerk taking the stairs two at a time. I grabbed my dress and shoes and headed for the window.” At that, Maye recalled another detail and laughed.

“Oh, this is rich! For some reason I stuffed your friend’s camera in his bag and took it with me, but when I got to the bottom of the fire escape, I couldn’t remember why I had it. Too much gin. Anyway, I tossed it behind some garbage cans and ran.”

“Where did you go, Maye?” Jake looked grim.
             

“My face hurt pretty bad where that dago bastard hit me. A friend of mine lives a block from the hotel. She took me in.” Maye drained the last of her drink and shook the empty glass in front of Jake.

“Not yet, Maye,” he said. “Where’s Beno?”

“You don’t know?”

“Tell me.”

Maye laughed, harder than before, and finally hard enough to start a
rasping cough. She lifted her hand from Jake’s leg and began patting her ample chest. It took a moment for Maye to recover. The same with Donald, but for other reasons.

“That dumb sorry bastard w
ill never hurt me again!”

“What do you mean?” Jake said, grabbing her forearm as Maye fell into another laughing fit. Donald heard rushing footsteps.

“Beno’s part of the seawall now!”

Sergio jerked back the curtain, filling the booth with light. Jake and Donald both flinched, too stunned by Maye’s words to speak. Donald took a long sip of beer as he studied Sergio, leaving a thin layer of foam on his upper lip. Seconds passed. The only sound was Maye’s coughing laugh. She was convulsing now, and slapping the table with her free hand. Tears washed black eyeliner into streaks down both cheeks.

She hiccupped. Sergio’s timing had been grand.

“Ruben, please bring Maye another drink,” Sergio called calmly across the empty room. To Jake he said more quietly, “Cousin, come with me.” He glanced at Donald. “And your friend.”

Sergio ushered Donald and Jake into the dead-end hall and touched his hand to a section of the wall. The panel door opened silently. This time, others were in the room. Donald recognized one as the hulking man who had watched them the night before. Another stepped behind Donald and Jake, between them and the door. Donald glanced back.

“We need no introductions here,” Sergio said. “Jake, Donald, please sit.” As they complied, Sergio casually opened the upper right drawer of his desk, glanced down, gently closed it again and remained standing behind his desk.

“Serg, what is going on?” Jake said.

Sergio selected a fresh hand-rolled Tampa Robusto from the humidor on his desk. He studied the cigar’s torpedo shape before clipping the head and slipping a full two inches of it into his mouth to moisten the outer leaf. The monster on his left produced a safety match, but Sergio declined the light. He clamped the unlit cigar in his mouth, preferring for now just to chew.

Sergio finally sat. He looked briefly at Donald’s thick glasses, then turned to Jake.

“Forgive me, cousin, but this is a serious matter. I need for you to understand.”

The bodyguards stood as still as a pair of granite lions. Sergio rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, fingertips together beneath his chin.

Donald waited for someone to speak. His mouth was dry. He needed to pee.

Inhale ... hold … exhale ...

Jake returned his cousin’s stare, but Sergio spoke first. He gestured with his cigar toward the guards.

“These gentlemen work for me,” he explained. “Several of their friends as well. In a business like mine, it is comforting to have them around. I don’t want any trouble. It’s bad for business. These men make sure there is no trouble. Do you understand?”

“Of course,” Jake said, “But what happened to
…”

“To Beno? He became the trouble. He grew loud. He pushed customers around. As a respo
nsible proprietor, I had to let him go. He is no longer an employee.”

Sergio’s words lingered in the air. He leaned back, stopping only when the chair’s heavy springs reached the far end of their range. Sergio held that position, like a stone loaded in a slingshot. Donald thought it best to keep quiet, but Jake had something to say.

“You can’t just kill people, Sergio.”

Sergio sprang forward, both hands slapping hard on the edge of his desk. Donald would have jumped up were it not for the meaty hand that instantly grabbed his shoulder, pinning him to the chair. Just as fast, Sergio’s anger was under control and the guard eased his grip. Donald wanted to rub his shoulder, but was afraid to move. He knew there’d be a bruise.

Sergio spoke slowly, as if addressing a child.             

“I did not say that Beno is dead. I merely said he is no longer an employee. He has probably left the island to find another job. Look for him if you want, you will not find him here.”

“But Maye said …”

“For all her charms, Maye lives in fantasy. She cannot be trusted to know or tell the truth.”

Jake was silent. Sergio turned to Donald. “Does this make sense to you, young man?

Sergio’s face let Donald know there was only one correct answer.

“Yes, sir.”

Sergio turned back to Jake.

“This matter with my employee does not concern you, cousin Jake. Elton Sparks had an unfortunate accident, but he will be all right. That is the important thing. Maye is a pretty woman with an empty head. She imagines things that did not happen. Have I made myself clear?”

Donald studied the thick m
an at Sergio’s right. His twin was behind Donald and Jake, close enough for them to smell the garlic on his breath. Once more, sweat made Donald’s one good shirt stick to his back. This would make a great entry for his journal, if he ever got to write in it again. Seconds more passed in silence. Donald forgot to breathe.

Finally, Jake slapped both hands to his knees. “Well, Sergio, that makes sense. You’re right, your employee problems are none of my business. All I know is that Elton is safe. I’m sure he will be more careful with his next lady friend.”

Sergio smiled, stood and extended his hand. “Excellent. Please come to see me the next time you are in town. We have more business to discuss.”              

“I will. Ciao, Sergio.”

“Ciao, cousin.”             

A minute later, Donald and Jake were on the street, blinking in the late afternoon sun.

“What made you back down from Sergio?”

“Con
sider it a tactical retreat.” Jake said. “I figured Sergio was right. It was smart to let Beno go.”

“You don’t believe Maye?”

“Look, she could be right. A lot of people must have known Sergio wanted to get rid of Beno. What happened to Maye and Elton could have been the last straw. Maybe that drunk’s call to the police wasn’t a joke. After all, Beno made a lot of enemies here.” Jake looked hard at Donald. “Nobody saw anything. Nobody cares. Beno won’t be missed.”

They walked another block before Jake spoke, anticipating the next question. “My cousin and the other club owners have an agreement with
the police. It’s not hard for them to look the other way.”

“Why?” Donald asked, bu
t he was beginning to see for himself. What Jake said next was no surprise.

“It’s good for business. The clubs bring in plenty of money, and the owners make sure the police, judges and politicians get their share. People overlook things when their incomes depend on it.”

“Life isn’t as simple as our teachers made it seem in school.”

Jake threw his arm around Donald’s shoulders as they walked. He lifted Donald’s cap and patted him on the head.

“Now you’re catching on
.”

“Elton’s awake,” Clara called as soon as she heard the front door open. Donald and Jake took the stairs two at a time, Jake first to the top. When they reached Clara’s room, Elton was sitting up, three pillows at his back, sipping hot tea. She had shaved him, brushed his teeth and combed his hair. If not for the purple bruise covering most of his left jaw, he looked fine. The swelling around his eye and the mosquito welts had gone down.

“Elton has quite a story to tell,” Clara said. “I took notes so he wouldn’t have to repeat everything.”

“Tank ou,” Elton said with what passed for a smile. He coughed hard, immediately groaned and wrapped one arm around his left side. Clara took the cup from his shaking hand.

“Are you going to bandage his ribs?” Donald asked.

“We can’t do much,” she explained. “If we wrap his torso, it will be harder for him to breathe. A bandage could also make the bone mend in the wrong position. Elton’s body will heal better without our help. The real danger is that the broken rib could have punctured a lung, but I’m convinced it has not.” She smiled at Elton and patted his hand. “He’ll be sore for a while, but good as new in a few weeks.”

“You gave
us a scare,” Jake said, sliding a chair next to the bed. Donald did the same, placing his chair closer to Clara’s.