Diamond Rock by Mark Schorr

Author:Mark Schorr
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, humor, 80s, private eye, los angeles, parody, new york, hardboiled, eighties, rock and roll, forties, 40s, cab
Publisher: Mark Schorr

“Vat do you plan to do vit her?” the hypnotist asked as Rocco’s slobbering goons untied her.

“She doesn’t want me, so everybody’s going to have her. But I get her first,” Rocco said with a chuckle. “I got a club down by the docks. She’s gonna be the featured attraction. If there’s anything left after me and the boys get through with her. You like that, Red?”

I growled pure hate through the gag.

“Vat about me?”

“You get a turn too,” Rocco said. “Can anything get her out of the trance?”

“She is completely under my vill,” the mesmerist said. “But it is best to let the psyche settle down into the proper levels of consciousness. It vill take no more zen ten minutes.”

“I gotta talk to Torchy about burning down that orphanage. Leave the shamus alone with her. He can think about all the fun he’s gonna be missing. You like that, peeper?”

He ripped the gag from my mouth and I unloaded a string of obscenities to make a teamster blush. I bucked and struggled, but it was no use. The stainless-steel cuffs tore at my wrists, the rope held me flat against the chair. they walked out laughing, leaving me naked as a jaybird and helpless, with my Fifi. in a trance only a few feet away. The idea of what Rocco had in mind for her was driving me crazy. Which is what Rocco wanted. This was worse than a dozen strongarms with crowbars making like Lionel Hampton on my kneecaps.

“Fifi! Fifi! Fifi!” I yelled, but she continued to stare at me with unseeing eyes.

It was as close as I ever been to giving up, throwing in the towel, and admitting that Rocco had beaten me. If it wasn’t for the fate worse than death that awaited Fifi, I mighta done it. But I couldn’t let that happen to my doll.

I stopped relying on my muscles and put my gray matter to work. How could I get her out of the hypnotic state?

I tried the cuffs again. Then it hit me.

I wiggled the cuffs and they caught the light from the lamp. I moved my wrists until the reflection bounced off the baby blues I loved to lose myself in.

“Fi-fi., Fi-fi,” I said slowly. “Listen to me. You are Fifi La Roche. You have a will of your own. Do you understand?”

Nothing. I repeated it I don’t now how many times, with as much authority as I could muster. I knew the door might open at any second, and the goon squad return. But I couldn’t fail. It was high-stakes poker, with our lives as the ante.

“Fi-fi, Fi-fi, this is Red. Pull yourself together. We don’t have much time.”

Right before the door opened, I thought I saw her blink.

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