Chapter 8

"I need to tell you a few things about Bobby," she said. "Number one is, he liked role-play. You know what that is sexually, don't you?"

"Well, role-playing is what people do when they're acting a part, right? So I assume it's something like that, except kinky."

"Oh, yeah, kinky, you've got that one. Especially with Bobby. I told you he was a regular, right? Well, he was a regular because I'd do the kind of shit he wanted, which was schoolgirl and teacher. I'd dress up in little-girl clothes, like I was maybe eight or nine, and call him 'Mr. Golden' in a real high, whiny voice, and sometimes he'd have me flounce around a little. And he'd tell me to suck his cock, and I'd say things like 'oh, Mr. Golden, my mommy said I shouldn't do that.' And I always shaved or got a wax—you know, my snatch—before I went to my appointments with him. Get the idea?"

"He was into kiddie porn," I said with distaste.

"Into it? He was the fuckin' king of it, it turned out. In D.C. at least, and probably other places too."

That sounded pretty off the charts to me. "Honey, are we talking about the same man? I mean, he's a U.S. Senator for God's sake."

"So?" she retorted. "Old Agnew was Vice fuckin' President, and I read he was taking payoffs right there in his office. Bobby figured out how to turn his pet fetish into a damn profit center, and his being Senator was just icing on the cake for him."

"Jesus." I said.

"Anyhow, I'm getting ahead of myself. The way I found out was, well, we always met in hotels or motels; he'd call and tell me the room and I'd go there, knock on the door and he'd let me in. Different hotels every time, he was careful. Anyhow, one night I got there a little early, traffic had been light. So I'm outside the room and I can hear him on his cell, and I figure I'll let him finish up, I'm sure in no hurry to go do that tired act again. And he keeps talking and I hear him say something about 'the heat's on a little, it's time to do a run.'"

"'The heat's on?' What, politically?"

"That's what I thought too at first, and I started to listen closer. I was seeing a couple of lobbyists, too, and I figured maybe I can pick up some insider scoop and make a few bucks passing it on. Larry, Ariel wasn't a very nice person. Susan's trying her best to be a better one, that's what a fresh start's all about, isn't it? But are you still sure she's the one, I'm the one, you want to be with?"

"I'm still sure, sugar," I told her firmly. "Susan's the only one of you I know, and she's doing a damn good job being a really fine person. All right now, that's out of the way, go on."

"How'd I get so damn lucky all of a sudden?" she asked rhetorically. "Well, OK, go on. Anyhow, I'm listening and he tells the guy on the other end to 'get the little muchachas moved tonight, pronto.' You know what 'muchachas' is, don't you?"

"Spanish for 'girls.'"

"Right. And he goes on, 'dose 'em up good, tie 'em up, get 'em in the van and head for Juarez. I want that Bowie crib empty in a hour, comprende? Not just the kids, take Berto and Terry with you. Everybody out. Call Walter when you get back, he'll have a new place. Now I gotta go, I've got a meeting in a few minutes. Hasta luego. Oh, Jose, bring five kilos this time, I've got some calls.' And he hung up.

"Well, I'm no dummy. No way was I knocking right then, it would've been way too quick. I hotfooted it over to the stairwell and just hung out there for a good ten minutes before I went back. By then I wasn't early any more, I was actually a little late, but I blamed it on traffic. So we did our thing, and I got out of there. But that phone conversation was still going on in my head."

"Are you saying?—" I started to ask in utter disbelief.