Pagan Babies by Elmore Leonard

Author:Elmore Leonard
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
ISBN: 9780385333924
Publisher: New York : Delacorte Press, c2000.
Published: 2000-03-20T04:00:00+00:00

Signed celebrity photos-not the caricatures looked out from the walls of Randy's office, done in browns, recessed lighting and a lot of chrome. Vincent Moraco was seated across the desk from him, the Mutt over to one side, beneath a black-and-white photo of Soupy Sales.

"First of all," Randy said, "you realize that what my customers are paying to get laid appears on the books as profit, restaurant income."

Vincent said, "Yeah…?"

"It means I'm paying taxes on income that isn't income, over three hundred grand in luck money I can't write off."

Vincent said, "You look at it like you laundering the money."

"Yeah, but people who do that are paid a fee, they get something for the service, the risk they take."

"You need a bookkeeper know what he's doing."

"That's only half the problem."

"Yeah…?"

"You base your cut on four girls a night, but only two show up, once in a while three. And there aren't that many relay teams or all-nighters."

"You have to understand," Vincent said, "you don't get this class of girl off the street. You know who some of the best ones are? College girls. They work hard to pay for school and make something of themselves."

"But two, at the most three girls," Randy said, "even with Ph.D.'s and working their asses off, won't come close to making the nut."

"Why? You having trouble bringing people in? Business falling off?"

"Leveling off. Carlo said you have to expect that. No matter how well you open, after a while it's bound to settle down. We do okay all week and still go crazy weekends."

"So what're you trying to say?"

"I just told you, the way it is doesn't work. Either put on more girls and turn the place into a brothel that serves food, or cut back on your take. You're not gonna make a cent if we have to close."

"Cut it back to what?"

"Four, at the most. I'll do business with you, Vincent, but I can't pay you out of restaurant receipts and stay open. Your take's drawn from my personal account."

"The dough," Vincent said, "you fucked that widow out of? I know how much you got, Randy. Everybody knows."

Randy had to ignore that one, let it pass. He said, "Up to right now, today, I'm out about a hundred and fifty thousand. And do you know what I get for that, Vincent?" Randy paused, playing his role. "I get to watch you eat lunch."

For the first time in nine months Randy saw Vincent Moraco smile.

He watched Vincent look over at the Mutt and now the Mutt was smiling.

"You hear what he said?"

"He gets to watch you eat?"

Vincent said, "Mutt, you're a stupid fuck, aren't you?" He pushed out of the chair, still smiling a little, and said to Randy, "Lemme have the envelope and I'll get out of your way."

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