The Weight - By Andrew Vachss Page 0,30

look like a good target, anyway. But the cops, they do whatever they want.

If a prowl car called me over, I’d have to go. Show them ID. They wouldn’t like the suitcase. Ask me if I minded if they looked inside. I’d have to say I did mind. Then they’d say they saw a gun in my belt, or make up anything they felt like. Once they looked inside that suitcase, I’d be cooked.

But I made it okay.

The little door was painted in slanted black-and-white stripes. Looked more like a pole than a door, especially being so narrow and all.

The key Solly gave me worked. I stepped inside, closed the door behind me. The stairs didn’t have any lights. I stood there a second, getting my eyes used to the dark. I ran my hands over the key. The little red tube attached to it was metal—it felt cold in my hand. Why would Solly give me—? I twirled the little tube around a couple of times. It felt smooth except for a tiny little part near the far end. I ran my thumbnail around it, slow and careful. That part near the end was notched. I turned it and a little circle of light came out.

I hadn’t ever seen such a tiny flashlight, but it sure threw enough light for me to climb the stairs. This’d be a good thing for a man to carry around, I thought.

Two flights, like Solly said. There wasn’t any door—the whole floor was open space. I played the flash around. The beam was powerful, but real narrow, so it was slow work.

Finally, I found a lamp. At least, I thought it was a lamp—looked like an upside-down cone on a long piece of metal. I couldn’t see how to turn it on, but I found the wire and felt around. There was a big flat thing in the wire. I pushed on it and the light came on. I guessed you were supposed to step on that flat thing to turn on the lamp.

It didn’t throw much light, and all of it was pointed down. But it was enough for me to get a picture of the place.

There wasn’t much up there. Mostly empty space. A thick pad on the floor had a pillow, so I guessed it was supposed to be the bed. One of those refrigerator cubes, looked new. The sink looked like it had come with the building. In a corner, toilet and shower stall.

Kind of like a convict’s dream cell. But I didn’t see a TV or a radio, so I guess it really wasn’t, even with all that space.

I wanted to look around the place some more. I wanted to open the suitcase. Not just to count the money, to see what else Solly put in there.

But it was still too dark. And I was bone-tired. Solly already knows where I am, is what I was thinking.

Besides, if Solly was going to do something to me, it would only be to get the money. And if he wanted the money, he’d already had a dozen chances to take me out.

I know what to do when there’s rules. I just follow them. I guess I was supposed to wait for Solly to call. No. That’s wrong. He said to call him if I wanted to work. No, wait. When I wanted to work, is what he said.

Why would I want to work anytime soon? I had money. It was all in this suitcase, right?

My head hurt from all that. I flopped down on the pad, faceup, one hand on the suitcase. I don’t remember closing my eyes.

When I came around, I could see the whole place. A kind of dirty light came down over everything. I looked up. It was a skylight. One of those old ones, kind of looks like a tent if you’re on the roof. Probably came with the building, and hadn’t been cleaned since.

I used to be good at time. I mean, I could kind of feel what time it was. But the last five years changed that. Bells and sirens. Hacks running their clubs over the bars, like an iron piano that only played one song. Inside, it isn’t light that tells you what time it is. You might never see the sky at night. Or see it at all, depending on how tight they had you locked down.

Same thing for chow: In some parts of the place, they’d bring the food to you,

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