Читать книгу The Patsy Returns - J. Thomas Ford - Страница 8

“What about Bannister?”

“He was a bit of a mystery man, but he knew and worked for everyone, the mob, all the agencies and anyone who was willing to pay his fee. He also had something to do with the Bay of Pigs operation, so that meant that he (and the others) also had a connection to the CIA.”

“Anything else you can remember, Lee?”

“I remember that David Ferrie was there too. Of course, he was there to represent Mr. Marcello’s interests. I knew Ferrie from the Civil Air Patrol when I was growing up in New Orleans. Ferrie was my instructor.”

“How well did you know him, Lee?”

“Well enough to know that he was smart, clever and a little bit crazy.”

I glanced at my notes and decided to call it a day. I asked Lee if he wanted to out and have dinner, but he said he was exhausted. I walked him back to his hotel around the corner from my office. I told him that I would see him in the morning. It was about twenty blocks to my walk-up, a rent control apartment that only cost me two hundred and fifty bucks a month (the same amount I had been paying for the past eighteen years). Normally, an apartment this nice would have cost me approximately two thousand dollars a month, but I was lucky when a friend of mine passed it onto me after he got a job on the West Coast.

I decided to stop and get a coffee, so I stopped in a little sandwich shop, sat at the counter and ordered a coffee and a piece of Cherry Pie, right out of the oven. The waitress was a darling little brunette, Jill, who always flirted with me and made me feel much younger. In reality, I was twice her age. I had made the mistake of dating a girl twenty-five years younger than me more than once and both times it was a complete disaster so I wasn’t about to do that again.

“How are you doing, Timothy?” I looked up and smiled. I noticed that her blouse was open and the top of her breasts were peeping out at me. I couldn’t help but smile just a little bit. In my mind, it was a compliment and I wanted to let her know that I appreciated her giving me a look. A big tip was in order.

“I’m fine, Jill. How was your day?” She was originally from Ireland and she still had that cute little accent that drove most men wild and, I’m sure, contributed heavily to their fantasy just as it was doing to mine.

“Very good, how about yourself? Can I get you anything else, Timothy?” she asked, as she placed the bill next to my hand. The edge of her hand brushed mine, ever so slightly.

“Good, but exhausting.”

“An Interview?” I looked up at her, a little surprised.

“How did you know?”

“The last time you came in here looking like that it was because you were in the middle of an interview with somebody famous.”

“Looking like what, old, worn out, over the hill?” She laughed, placed her hand on top of mine.

“Lord no, you’re not old, Timothy. You’re distinguished looking.

“Thank you,” I said, Her hand was still on top of mine when she said, “you do look like you need a massage. It would relax you. I could come over after work and give you one, no charge, of course...well, I mean, you could take me out to dinner sometime?”

I had promised her about a year ago that we should go to dinner some night, but if the truth were known she scared me a little bit. I tried my best to change the subject.

“Some other time, Jill, but I do appreciate it. I heard you are very good.” She gave me a look that said, you better believe I’m good.

“Who told you?”

“Uh, one of your satisfied customers (I couldn’t remember who it happened to be. I didn’t want to bring his name up because I think she also dated him and he had actually called her a crazy redhead).

“What did he say about me?”

“That you had incredible hands, and you knew what you were doing.” She finally took her hand off of mine and I noticed that the blood had begun rushing through my arteries just a little faster than before.

She got called away to the register and I breathed a sigh of relief. I took a napkin and started scribbling notes on it about my first day with Mr. Oswald. God, I couldn’t believe it. He actually was who he said he was. How lucky could I get? Maybe a little luckier if I changed my mind and decided to take up Jill on her offer. It obviously came with a promise of sex at the end of the massage and that was something I might do, but not tonight. I was too damn exhausted. I needed my sleep, so the next time Jill disappeared into the kitchen I took the opportunity to slip out the front door. I left a twenty on the counter and hoped that placated her. Before I left, I wrote Jill a note on a fresh napkin that said, ‘maybe some other time.’

I chuckled as I walked down the street, thinking about Jill and her hands on my body. It was something that took my mind off the interview with Oswald, and that was a good thing. By the time I got to my apartment, I was ready to go to bed, but I sat down on my sofa and turned on the television. My cat immediately jumped up beside me and started purring. She had been waiting for me to come home all day. She was good company, someone I could always count on. That was the thought on my mind when my head flopped back as I fell sound asleep.