thung BEAT thungs and the rest of it… moaning sighs, they were, ending in prolonged breathless sighs that went, “Ahhhhh… ahhhhhh… ahhhhhh”… and then they began speeding up… “Ahhh… ahhh… ahhh” and then faster still… “Ahh… ahh… ahh… ahh…”
So did the man’s Oh, govno Oh, govno Oh, govno Oh, govno.
Then a convulsive sigh from the girl that went ahh ahh ahh ahh ahh and dived into a lake of sobs sobs sobs Oh, God sob sob sob sobbbbbb ungh ungh ungh Oh, God, oh God oh God-d-d-d…
Thereupon the man topped that with “Oh govno Oh dermo Oh govno DERMO DERMO DERMO! BOZHE MOY! GOSPODI…” By the end he was loud as a tenor in the opera.
“Olga” had turned away from the entrance. A single movement of her hand, and her shirt fell to the floor and then she took a deep breath and sank back toward Nestor to present her popped-out breasts.
Nestor gave her a happy smile as if to say, “Oh, good. That’s nice”—no more than that, because he was already at the curtain, pulling it back just an inch or two… so he could hear more grumbling audibly inside several stalls… He could swear he heard one man complaining, “Whaddaya mean, I don’t get to go all the way?” He must have been talking to his whore, because he said, “Oh, don’t give me that! Don’t you stand there telling me your fucking rules—or no-fucking rules!”
Another man was apparently shouting from his stall at the operatic-climax man, because Nestor heard Climax Man yelling back, “You dohn’t talk to me like zat, you vorm!” He sounded good and drunk. His adversary yelled, “Who the fuck you think you are!” And the big voice said, “You don’t eefen vant to know! You down zere, a vorm, and I up here! I am artist!”
Boos, hisses, gimme-a-breaks, and other cries of sarcastic denigration.
“You zshut ze mouzzz! You dohn’t belief me? I am een ze museum!”
“Hey, can it, you guys! What the hell’s going on in here?” It was the bouncer. He sounded like he was on a tear. The place quieted down.
“Olga” with the bare breasts was saying, “What are you doing, Ray, standing by the curtain? I thought you were hot for a lap dance.”
“I am,” said Nestor, “but I think I just heard something.”
“Olga” stared at him, bare breasted and speechless.
::::::He looks exactly like Igor with a measly mustache. He speaks with a Russian accent. He says he’s in a museum. That’s one way to put it!::::::
John Smith was waiting outside the door. What happened to him? He was standing there with a big black eye. His blue blazer was smeared with dust and dirt and had a big wet splotch on a lapel.
“¡Dios mío! What happened?”
“I tried to catch up with you in Furniture Land—and they took it out on me.”
Nestor whistled between his teeth. “I heard something going on behind me and saw a bouncer heading that way—but I had no idea it was you. “You look a little… messed up, I guess. Are you… are you okay?”
“I’ll survive… except there are three bastards I’d like to kill. How did you make out?”
“He’s our man, John.”
“How do you know?”
“Let’s get away from this goddamned door,” said Nestor, “and I’ll tell you all about it.”
The Honey Pot’s four-story-high backlit sign created an electric twilight out here on the street in front of the strip joint. It was an artificial twilight, but light enough for Nestor and John Smith to surveil both the club and the entrance to the parking lot behind it from inside the Camaro… when Nestor lifted, even a few inches, the SPTotal reflector screen that covered the windshield. SPTotal was the Apprehension Unit’s brand of choice—¡Coño! Everything conspired to make him relive the day he and Hernandez were surveilling that crack house in Overtown.
Nestor had backed the Camaro into the driveway of a shop across the street, Buster’s BoostersX, now closed, since it was going on 3:00 a.m…. John Smith was a soldier now, but surveillance still made him squirrelly. He was afraid Igor had somehow departed without their seeing him, or maybe there was some exit they didn’t know about… or maybe Igor, being such a regular customer, could sleep over in the Honey Pot if he felt like it… maybe there were girls willing to stay and play with him… Maybe this and maybe that… but one thing Nestor knew from working the Crime Suppression Unit: You had to learn how to wait for