King Suckerman
- Автор: Пелеканос Джордж
- Серия: D.C. Quartet #2
- Год: 1997
- Язык: английский
- Год: Little, Brown and Company
- ISBN: 978-0-316-69590-9
- Жанр: Триллеры
Электронная книга - «King Suckerman». Краткое содержание книги:
Vivian filled a bong hit while Karras put on the record. He dropped the needle on the third cut, “Back to Get Ya.” Karras danced by himself to the first couple of verses, turned up the volume at the harp break.
“Do the robot, Mitri!” yelled Clay.
Elaine leaned against the kitchen wall, smiled, rolled her eyes as Karras went into his stiff, jerky dance. Duncan and Libby stood behind the couch, laughing and moving a little themselves. Vivian Lee lit a cigarette.
They all had another round of drinks and smoked a little more weed, and then Duncan and Libby decided it was time to go. Elaine, who had an eye for art, promised to catch Hazlewood’s next show. Duncan and Libby left, arm in arm.
“Whyn’t you put on a slow drag, Dimitri?” said Clay. “I’m tired of watchin’ you try to get on the goodfoot.”
“Whaddaya wanna hear?”
“You got ‘Brown-Eyed Girl’?”
“Yeah, I got Van.”
“I ain’t talkin’ about no Van. I’m talkin’ about the ‘Brown-Eyed Girl.’ The Isleys, man.”
“Yeah,” said Karras, “I think I got that one.”
He found Live It Up, placed the needle on the second track on side one. Marcus and Elaine came together immediately. Vivian came to Karras.
They danced to the beautiful song, Ronald Isley’s wistful tenor filling the apartment. Karras saw Elaine put her head on Clay’s shoulder and close her eyes. He wondered if anyone would ever love him that way. Vivian ran her hands up and down Karras’s back. She crushed her breasts against his hard stomach. He felt the vibration of her slow moan and the hardening of his cock in his jeans. Vivian looked up at him with damp eyes.
“Dimitri?”
“Yeah?”
“I gotta go to the bathroom.”
“Want me to go with you?”
“Okay.”
Karras followed her there because he knew that was what she wanted. Because that was what he wanted, too. He had told himself before that it was wrong, but he was high now and told himself that it was right. He felt Elaine’s eyes on him as he passed.
In the bathroom, Karras closed the door behind him. Vivian faced him, leaned back against the sink. She shook her black hair off her pale shoulders, pulled the tube top down to her waist. Free, her lovely breasts bounced one time. He put his thumb and forefinger to the pink nipple of her right breast, squeezed it until her lips parted.
“Nice lollipops,” whispered Karras, noticing his stupid, open-mouthed reflection in the bathroom mirror.
She’s a kid, you fucking...
She crushed her mouth against his; he kissed her back. He felt his breath shorten and pulled her against his groin.
Her heard Elaine’s voice, calling his name: “Dimitri! Dimitri, come out here!”
“Hold that,” said Karras.
Vivian said, “I will.”
He walked out of the bathroom, through the hall to the living room. Elaine was by the stereo, wide eyed, clumsily turning the music all the way down. Marcus had opened the door and was standing there, his head slightly bent, his hands hanging limply at his sides. A uniformed cop stood in the open frame.
“Hey, pull over, Ronald,” said Russell Thomas. “I’ll ask that blue freak on the corner where that shop is at.”
“That okay?” said Ronald to Cooper.
They had been searching for the record store for the last fifteen minutes. Cooper had looked up the address in the yellow pages, but with the traffic on Connecticut Avenue and all that, even at this time of night, it was difficult to slow down, get a good look at the numbers on the storefronts without attracting attention.
Cooper said, “Sure, man. Go ahead.”
Cooper and Clagget sat in the backseat of the Dodge, Clagget pressing the sawed-off tightly to his leg. Ronald drove, with Russell at his side up front. Ronald cut the wheel, stopped the car in a bus zone at Connecticut and Q.
A dark-skinned woman wearing white bells and a short-sleeved print shirt stood on the corner. She glanced at her watch impatiently, as if to let the men in the car know that she was waiting for someone to come pick her up. Behind her, a kid had set up a portable eight-track and an overturned hat on the sidewalk. The kid was robotting wildly to James Brown’s “The Payback.”
Russell Thomas leaned out the window, raised his voice so the woman could hear him over the J.B. He put a smile behind the voice. “Hey, girlfriend, what’s goin’ on?”
The woman looked away. She coughed into her fist and blinked her eyes. The Daytona was putting out some serious exhaust.
Russell tried again. “Look here, dark and lovely. I would never harm a sister as fine as you. See, baby, I’m from out of town—”
“Who don’t know that,” said the woman, suddenly staring Russell dead in the eye.
“Anyway, I was wonderin’... Where go Real Right Records, sugar? We’re just lookin’ to cop some sounds for the weekend, and we heard that Real Right was the place.”
“Real Right?” The woman’s features softened. “Well, you’re only a block away. Real Right is up there above R, on the right.”
“Thank you, precious. I do appreciate it.”
The woman fanned carbon dioxide away from her face as Ronald Thomas pulled away from the curb.
“Freak was way into me, man,” said Russell. “Matter of fact, maybe afterwards, I’ll have you drive me back here. A girl like that could suck on my jolly stick for real.” Russell rubbed his dick through his purple pants.
“Russell,” said Ronald, “one of these days, someone’s just gonna go ahead and kick your monkey ass.”
“Then their momma’d be wakin’ them up out of their good dream,” said Russell, “tellin’ ’em it’s time to get off to school.”
Clagget tapped Cooper’s shoulder. “Wilton?”
“Uh-huh?”
“That girl looked somethin’ like Carol Speed. You notice that?”
Cooper said, “I surely did.”
Clagget touched the cranberry riot of acne splattered across his face. “You know, Wilton, that woman’s gonna remember our car.”
Cooper nodded, staring straight ahead.
They drove slowly by the store. Through the window, Cooper noticed a young dashiki-wearing man, no one else. He motioned Ronald, told him to take a long swing around the block. They came back out on Connecticut where the young lady had been standing moments earlier. The dancing kid was still there. They drove north.
Twentieth Street broke off of Connecticut just above R, giving the avenue stores backdoor loading capability and dual window frontage. Cooper pointed Ronald up 20th. Ronald steered the Daytona into a space.
“Cut it, Ronald,” said Cooper.
Ronald Thomas killed the engine. For a while, all of them watched the flow of tourists and Washingtonians out on the street. Then Clagget pulled two double-aught shells from the loops of his hunting vest.
“Whole lotta folks out tonight,” said Clagget. He thumbed the shells into the shotgun.
“That Bicentennial thing,” said Cooper.
“You got some kind of plan, Coop?” said Ronald.
“I’m gonna get myself in through the front door on Connecticut,” said Cooper. “Now, B.R. and Russelclass="underline" When that back door cracks open, I want y’all to get your asses out the car and into the shop. Ronald, you just sit tight. Fire up that ignition again when you see us all comin’ out the back. Everybody down with that?”
None of them replied. Cooper pulled his .45 from the waistband of his slacks, pulled back on the receiver, let a round drop into the chamber. He replaced the gun, left his shirttail out over his slacks.
“Keep that hog’s leg down, little brother.”
“I will, Wilton.”
Cooper said, “Let’s take it to the bridge.”