Jokers Wild Page 0,142

was a sixteen-year-old girl, tall and slim, with straight, black hair and dark eves.

They passed an alley and heard what sounded like cries. Bagabond shook her head and started to walk past. "Hold it," said Jack. He walked a few steps into the narrow passage. He saw several people he'd already encountered today on separate occasions. One was Jean-Jacques. He crouched protectively over one of the other dancers. This one, in tattered and dirty formal ballet getup, was lying sprawled on the alley floor. There was blood around his mouth.

Standing over the pair was the punkish young man with whom Jack had had the run-in the morning past, outside the Young Man's Fancy. The young man's rainwater eyes were masked by the alley shadows.

"Try sucking this," he said. Jack and Bagabond heard the snickt of spring steel. The blade snapped out of the young man's stiletto and locked into place.

The young man crouched with the knife and feinted toward Jean-Jacques. The Senegalese didn't move. "Fuckin' faggots! I'm gonna cut off everything that moves."

Jack started forward. Bagabond tripped him. Jack sprawled forward into the alley, partially catching himself with his outthrust palms, feeling skin grate across the ragged brick. "Wait." Bagabond frowned, concentrating.

Alley cats erupted from the stinking pyramids of garbage bags stacked further back in the darkness. Howling, they bounded toward the young man with the knife. He snarled in turn and swung, around to face them.

"Come on," said Bagabond, helping Jack up. "It's taken care of. Everything's cool." She tugged at his arm.

Jack hesitated, but saw that Jean-Jacques was helping his friend up. He followed Bagabond.

The alley cats screeched and yowled triumphantly behind them, as all humans exited the alley, save for the young man. "Couldn't happen to a nicer homophobe," muttered Jack.

Spector had never been inside the Astronomer's penthouse apartment before. It was in the Seventies off Central Park. The decor was surprising subdued, dark wood floors and furnishings complemented by off-white walls and ceilings.

The Astronomer unlocked the door to a room off the library and motioned them to enter. The old man leaned heavily against the doorframe. Spector pulled the dark-haired girl inside. The captive women had been quiet, probably Insulin's doing. The room was dim, the only illumination coming through a large skylight. Underneath it was a mahogany altar. There were steel manacles at each corner, and a large V -shaped notch at one end. Spector didn't have to wonder what that was for.

"That one." The Astronomer pointed to the girl in the University of Houston sweatshirt and closed the door.

Imp pulled off the woman's sweatshirt and dragged her to the altar. He quickly manacled her hands and then unzipped her jeans and began working them down her legs. He tossed them on the floor and tore off her red cotton panties, then fastened her feet down.

Spector felt the dark-haired woman tense and he gripped her arms tighter.

"Get her ready." The Astronomer opened a drawer in the altar's side and pulled out a syringe. He made a fist and tied his arm off, then sank the needle in and slowly injected what Spector knew had to be heroin. The old man took a deep breath and pulled out the needle, leaving a tiny red dot. His arm was lined with them. The Astronomer unsashed his robe and let it drop. Imp kneeled between her legs and began moistening her with his tongue.

The Astronomer walked unsteadily over to the altar, stroking his erect penis. "What's your name, my dear?"

"Caroline." She struggled ineffectually against the chains. "You have any idea whose girls we are? You're going to be in deep shit if anything happens to us."

The old man laughed and pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Fortunato the pimp. He's been a nuisance to me for years, but not much more than that. What could be more appropriate than using his own women to insure his destruction." He turned to imp, who still had his head buried between her legs. "That's enough."

Imp stood and walked silently over to where Spector and Insulin held the other two women. He tugged at the end of his tongue trying to pull away a stray pubic hair. "We taking him with us?" Imp indicated Spector.

"I think so." The old man ran his finger down the naked woman's body as he walked around the altar.

"You leave her the fuck alone." The woman in the electricblue dress strained to get away from Insulin, then went limp in her arms.

"No more interruptions." The