Hollywood Station by Joseph Wambaugh

Author:Joseph Wambaugh [Wambaugh, Joseph]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Fiction, Crime
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

During the last hour, Budgie hooked one more trick, and Mag wanted to soar past her with two, but business was slowing. They had only thirty minutes to go when Mag saw a cherry-red Mercedes SUV with chrome wheels drive slowly past. The driver was a young black man in a three-hundred-dollar warm-up suit and pricey Adidas. He made one pass, then another.

Mag didn’t return his smile the way she had been doing to other tricks that night, including two who were black. This guy made her think one word: “pimp.” Then she realized that if she was right, this could be the topper of the evening. A felony bust for pimping. So on his next pass, she returned the smile and he pointed just around the corner and parked the SUV. A hip-hop album was blasting out, and he turned it down to talk.

When she approached cautiously, he said, “What’s a matter, Momma, ain’t you into chocolate delight?”

Yeah, he’s a pimp, she thought, saying, “I like all kind of delights.”

“I bet you do,” he said. “Jump on in here and le’s talk bidness.”

“I’m okay out here.”

“What’s wrong?” he said. “You a cop or somethin’?”

He smiled big when he said it, and she knew he didn’t believe it. She said, “I can talk out here.”

“Come on in, baby,” he said, and his pupils looked dilated. “I might got somethin’ for you.”

“What?” she said.

“Somethin’.”

“What something?”

“Get in,” he said, and she didn’t like the way he said it this time. He was amped, all right. Maybe crack, maybe crystal.

“I don’t think so,” she said and started to walk away. This wasn’t going right.

He opened the door of the SUV and jumped out, striding around the back and standing between her and Sunset Boulevard.

She was about to use the code word “slick” but thought about what it would mean if she brought down a pimp. She said, “You better talk fast because I don’t have time for bullshit.”

And he said, “You think you gonna come and work this corner? You ain’t, not without somebody lookin’ out for you. And that ain’t no bullshit. That is righteous.”

“Whadda you mean?” Mag said.

“I’m gonna be your protector,” he said.

“Like my old man?” she said. “I don’t need one.”

“Yes, you do, bitch,” he said. “And the protection has started. So how much you made tonight so far? Workin’ on my corner. On my boulevard.”

“I think you better get outta the way, Slick,” Mag said. And now she was definitely scared and could see one of the vice cops running across Sunset Boulevard in her direction.

She was still looking for her mobile cover team when he said, “I’m gonna show you what is slick.”

And she was shocked when his fist struck. She hadn’t seen it coming at all. Her face had been turned toward the boulevard while she waited for her security, thinking, Hurry up. Her head hit the pavement when she fell. Mag felt dizzy and sick to her stomach and tried to get up, but he was sitting on top of her, big hands all over her, looking for her money stash.

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