beneath which would be his gun. He was obviously management, and his title was pimp. Brodie replied, “They all look good.”
“Pick one.”
“Later. I’m enjoying the show.”
The man smiled, revealing gold-capped teeth. “We have special girls in the back. Is that what you are looking for?”
“Maybe.”
“Are you not the American who was asking my colleague Pepe for a young girl?”
“Yeah… but I don’t want to do anything illegal.”
The man smiled again. “My name is Carlo. You please come with me.” He motioned to the curtain. “I have several to choose from.”
Well, thought Brodie, this was part of the plan—to pay one of the girls and ask her about an American amigo with a snake tattoo and see if in fact this American was a customer, and to learn whatever else she knew about the gringo—like he arrives every night at ten, has a beer, and goes into a back room to be spanked or something. But the timing was not good. Luis was still in the baño, holding his pene at the urinal, waiting for Señor Brodie to relieve him of his gun so he could get out of here.
Brodie said, “I have to take a piss. Excuse me.”
He started to go around the pimp, who took hold of his arm and said, “Allow me, Señor Bow-man, to show the way. Then we go see the girls.”
“Let go of my arm.”
Carlo released his arm, then nodded to someone behind Brodie. Brodie glanced over his shoulder and saw the guy who’d met them at the door, crowding him from behind.
Carlo said, “Please, señor. Come with me. I know what you want. They cannot come to you, so you must go to them. You understand.”
Brodie took stock of the situation and decided to go along with Carlo, duck into the baño, get his Glock, then let Carlo show him the Hen House’s selection of virgins. He asked, as any customer would, “How much?”
Carlo replied, “Whatever you have left in your pocket that my friend Lupe here did not take from you.”
They both laughed, and Brodie wanted to punch Carlo in the balls, pivot, and drive his foot into Lupe’s groin. That would be instant gratification, but not a good long-range plan. He said, “I want a girl who speaks English.”
Before Carlo could reply, Lupe said something in Spanish. Carlo laughed and explained, “He says he is happy to stay in the room with you and translate.”
Even Brodie thought that was funny, but he didn’t smile and insisted, “English-speaking. Maybe an older girl.”
“Sí. I have Pia who watches CNN all day to learn her English. You can argue politics.” He added, “She also has nice tits.”
Again, this got a laugh from both men, and Brodie felt Lupe’s breath on his neck. He glanced at the curtain to see if Luis had been worried enough to come look for him, but Luis was not there. He glanced around the dim room and saw that a few customers, including the MBR guys, had become interested in the conversation between the gringo, the bouncer, and the pimp.
“Come with me, señor. Por favor.”
Brodie followed Carlo through the curtain; Lupe did not follow. They stepped into a small anteroom with two metal doors. The one to Brodie’s left was marked HOMBRES, and the one directly ahead featured an orange diamond-shaped construction sign that read in English: WOMEN AT WORK. Funny.
Without saying anything to Carlo, Brodie opened the bathroom door. A hanging lightbulb revealed a small, single-toilet room. Luis was not there. What the…?
Carlo said, “It is the policy of El Gallinero to reward the drivers and guides who bring us good customers. Your amigo is enjoying himself.” He added, “On the house.”
Brodie wasn’t buying that, but he nodded. Clearly Carlo was up to something, and it didn’t take a lot of CID training to figure out it wasn’t something good. Brodie had no doubt he could drop-kick Carlo’s bolas into his throat and own his gun, then shoot his way out of there if he had to. But he couldn’t leave Luis behind, and he had no idea where Luis was.
“Señor? Perhaps you pee later?”
Brodie nodded.
Carlo insisted he go first, and he walked through the WOMEN AT WORK door and down a long, narrow corridor lined with wooden doors, which were numbered with a grease pencil. From behind a few of the doors Brodie heard the rhythmic squeaking of cheap spring mattresses and the occasional unconvincing moan of female pleasure. Just when you think your job sucks, you discover