The 600 Pound Gorilla by Robert Campbell

Author:Robert Campbell [Campbell, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General
ISBN: 9780451153906
Google: PJclJgAACAAJ
Publisher: New Amer Library
Published: 1987-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

The joint smells almost as bad as I'm told the real canals in Italy smell. The plaster-of-paris decorations, what is supposed to look like buildings and bridges, is damp and the paint they use is cheap.

It's Friday night, and at eight o'clock there's already something of a crowd. I get a table on the right of the entrance nearest to the door. A big gazoony in mesh stockings and a short skirt comes over to take my order. His beard's showing through his pancake, he's done a lousy job with his eye shadow, and he's got a tattoo—a striking snake—on his left bicep.

I order a whiskey and ginger, which I don't intend to drink, and he limps off to get it. When he comes back, I ask him does he have a leg injury.

"My feet is killing me. These goddamn mesh stockings is torture," he says in a voice like a bullhorn. "For Christ's sake, don't look so surprised. It ain't easy being a girl."

"Maybe if you got into some other line of work."

"I thought about it, but what could I do that pays anything at all? I mean, I tried the shops and offices and all I got was turned down. It's this goddamn five-o'clock shadow."

"Ain't there ways to take care of that?"

"You mean hormone shots? Well, I haven't made up my mind to go that far yet." Then he says, making a connection which I can't figure out, "I could of been on television once. They wanted to use me on a taste test for some coffee, but it gives me sour stomach, so that didn't work out, either."

When he or she comes back with my drink, I say, "What do I call you?"

"Are you flirting with me?" he says.

"I got a girlfriend and I'm not trying to double my pleasure."

"How about calling me Harriet?"

"I'll call you Harriet if you want, but I find it difficult to call a person Harriet what has a voice like a tobacco auctioneer, a heavy beard, and legs like a halfback."

"So call me Harry. You mind if I sit down for a minute?"

"Be my guest."

"My God, it ain't easy being a woman," he says again, letting go a sigh that rattles the table.

"You read about Baby?" I say.

"Ain't that something? I saw it on the news. Who'd smack a pretty beast like that across the face with a chain? Goddamn sadist ought to have his arms and legs broken into little pieces."

"You think the two men they found dead in that dry room with her was the ones what hit her?"

"How should I know?"

"Well, is it likely for two men of their persuasion to be violent like that?"

"There's queers what get off wearing leather, riding bikes, and fighting one another with knives and chains."

"Were those two them kind of nolas?"

"You a cop?" Harry says, his eyes going flat all of a sudden.

"No, I'm not a cop. What makes you think?"

"The way you wrestle the lingo. I mean, somebody goes around singing the words, they should know the music.

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