On the Grift Page 2

  “Are you ready?” I asked. “This may hurt a little at first but as soon as I pop your cherry it will feel a lot better.” She did not say anything, she only kept moaning. I eased inside her slowly, she moaned more, I pushed, she moaned again. I pushed harder and I began to feel her cunt give way. I got so excited I just jammed my prick up her and started pounding away. She yelled and started thrashing around the bed. I could feel her fat belly jiggling beneath me. Her fighting got me even more excited and I couldn’t hold out any longer but before I shot my wad inside her I pulled my bloody cock out of her and came all over her stomach. It had been a while between fucks and I just spurted a shitload of jiz all over her. There was blood on both of us and on the sheets. She was crying, so I lay down next to her and held her hand.

  “Hey, hey, that wasn’t so bad, was it? It will get better, you’ll see.”

  Her sobbing slowed. She turned and looked at me, her face flushed and filled with a sort of pitiful longing. “Thank you, Kevin,” she said. “I’m happy and sad all at the same time. I feel lost and empty. Please don’t go. Will you stay here with me the rest of the night?”

  Little did she know, but I wasn’t going anywhere. I planned on milking this cow for all she was worth and put a little stake aside until I could move on.

  “Sure, doll, I wouldn’t think of leaving, not after what we just did. You got real possibilities in the bedroom department. Remember practice makes perfect and we got lots of time to practice. But, hey, how about you clean up and maybe get these sheets changed. I’m starved. You got anything to eat?”

  She rolled off the bed, retrieved her pink thing and waddled to the bathroom. Crap, what a mess we made. I wiped myself off on the sheet. Things were going well and despite my worries about being able to get it up for Mobes, I kind of enjoyed it. I almost felt like I did her a favor; after all, who else would pop a pig like her? Of course I was going to use her up and spit her out but, shit, that’s life. You have to get over when you can.

  God, I was tired. It had been a long 24 hours. I had no sleep and little to eat. I fell back on the bed and nodded off. I must have conked out for awhile but I jolted awake when I felt something hot on my prick. I looked down and she was sitting on the edge of the bed with a pan of soapy water and a cloth washing me off. It felt wonderful. Almost all the woman in my life had been marks, one-night stands, or hookers. This kind of attention was something new for me. I watched, amused, as she cleaned me off like a baby.

  “I’ll wash you up and I’ve got an omelet baking with some toast and coffee for you. Thank God it’s Saturday and I don’t have to work. I can cook you dinner too, if you want me to.”

  I just nodded and smiled. Things were finally looking up.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  We stayed in the apartment for 3 days. I convinced her to call in sick to work. We fucked some more but in between I had to listen to her whole life story.

  Her father was dead and she was an only child. She had a sick mother being taken care of by an aunt and she was up here in Chicago to work and save all the money she could. She needed to help her mother pay taxes on the farm they had.

  On Tuesday morning I woke up and realized I had to get some dough. I had to play her carefully; she was love struck but not a total dummy. “Let’s eat. I got things to do today but I’ll be back later tonight, OK?”

  She looked down and mumbled something. “Hey, look I said I would be back. I got a lot of things to do. My lease is up on my place and I still got some stuff to get. I got to find another place real quick and with the housing shortage, it ain’t going to be easy.” Shit, a few drinks, a little romance, and they always start the same old business. Fucking broads are all alike; they want to own you and run your life.

  I got cleaned up, ate, and left her moping on the couch. “I’ll see you later, doll. You make the dinner and I’ll get us some beer, OK?”

  She brightened up at that and came to the door with stars in her eyes and grabbed my arm and jumped up to kiss my cheek.

  “Kevin, you don’t have to worry about finding a place. You can stay here as long as you need. I know it’s kind of small but we could manage. Just think about it. I’ll make room in the closet for you. I put a note in your coat pocket with my address just in case you forget where I am.”

  How fucking pitiful can you get? I gave her a big smile and shut the door behind me. I started down the stairs and met Louisa coming up. She looked like she had been out all night and was just getting home.

  “Hi, neighbor,” I said. She looked up at me like she had just stepped in a pile of shit. She stopped on the stair I was on. Being that close to her got me all worked up. Even though she was a little washed out at this hour, she was still hot as a firecracker. She was as tall as I was and looked me right in the eye. She gave me the same look a tired cop gives a stinking wino he has to roust out of the gutter.

  “Oh, neighbor is it? All moved in and comfy now? Sweet play you’re making.”

  “Yeah, so what of it, doll?”

  “Don’t doll me, you phony grifter. Didn’t take long to move in on that sad chump, did it?”

  “What’s your beef, sister? You look like you been around the block a few times, you know the score.”

  “I guess I do, buster, I guess I do.” She leaned on the banister, throwing one hip out and staring at me all the time with those baby-blues. Her makeup had run and her hair was all mussed up.

  “Does your husband, what’s his name; know you’re waltzing in at 6:30 am?”

  “Ha, you fool, he ain’t my husband. That little chump you’re screwing made that shit up. It’s the kind of crap those simpy broads need to believe. Max is just another jerk who’s in seventh heaven ‘cause I let him pay the bills and sniff my panties once in a while. He’s just a doormat and if he knows what’s good for him he will stay that way. Men! You are all so full of shit and so stupidly predictable.”

  “Well, maybe we got more in common than you think. Maybe we can do each other some good, sometime.”

  “Sure, sure.” she said. “That will be the day. You ain’t got any idea who you’re playing with. Just don’t go getting any ideas, junior. Don’t come sniffing around because I’m here to tell you, you couldn’t handle a woman like me. I’ve seen your kind before and you better stick with that little marshmallow.”

  She poked me in the chest, hard, and walked up the stairs. At the landing, she stopped and turned and said, “She’s more your speed, sucker.” Then she grinned, or maybe it was a snarl, I wasn’t sure.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I left the building whistling “Sentimental Journey.” It was a blustery, cloudy day with the wind swirling and blowing the fallen leaves across the sidewalks and around my feet. It took me a few seconds to remember where I left my car. That junk heap of a DeSoto sat there looking like it had been hit by a German 88. All I could say is that it ran and at least there was still some tread on the cheap recaps I had put on it. I checked my pockets; 3 lousy bucks. Shit, maybe I should have hit Mobes up for some green before I left but I didn’t want to queer the deal and put her off. I knew I had to work her slowly.

  I hoped that redheaded bitch wouldn’t say anything to her about me. As hot as I was for her, I knew she was a real hard case. I had met these types before. They ain’t ever as tough as they think. It’s just like she said; there are a lot of suckers out there and a good-looking broad with some smarts and some moxie can go a long way.

  I got the car started and headed back North. I turned West on Irving Park and when I got to Lincoln Avenue I found a parking space and pulled my heap to the curb. I dug around in the back seat and pulled out a tie and put it on. I found my gray fedora and suit jacket. I straightened out the hat and shook out the coat. I placed a tiny vial of oil in the pocket. I opened the glove compartment and shuffled through my IDs. I found a suitable set and filled my wallet.

  I stepped out of the car, snapped my hat brim, and looked around. The street was not too busy but had enough traffic for
me to blend in. I took a deep breath and walked around the corner. I strode slowly to the office building I had spotted and cased a couple of weeks ago. I got to the entrance and pushed through the revolving door and made my way into the lobby. A semi-circular desk sat at the far end of a marble floored rotunda. An old geezer in a guard’s uniform sat at a desk acting as security and receptionist. He would not remember me from before. I had looked the place over disguised as a messenger. I knew how to shorten myself and how to change my gait and demeanor. Although I didn’t think this old fool could remember his own name without thinking hard.

  “Hello. I’m going up to see Dr. Yanovsky, third floor, right?”

  He barely looked up from the Herald’s sports section as I passed. “Yeah, third floor.” he mumbled.

  I started up the broad staircase and slowly removed the vial of oil and let it drip on the first landing. I looked back to check that he wasn’t watching me. He looked ancient and from the way he had the paper an inch from his face, he probably couldn’t see much anyway.

  I rubbed my foot around in the oil and let out a scream as I did my backwards tuck and roll down the stairs. I landed on my back and started moaning and yelling. The old fart came hobbling over to me.

  “What happened, Mister? Are you all right? Oh my God, what happened?”

  I moaned some more. “My back, my neck, help me.”

  “Hang on. Don’t move. I’ll call an ambulance. The building manager is in back. I’ll get him. Don’t move, please.”

  A few people walked in and some more were getting off the elevator. They came over to me and were hovering around as I kept moaning like I was in great pain.

  “Excuse me, please let me by. Let me by.” An oily-looking middle-aged guy with beady eyes and no chin knelt down beside me. “I’m Mr. Zellman, the manager here. We have the police and an ambulance on the way. Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I fell; my feet flew out from under me. There was something on the stairs.”

  He patted my hand with his sweaty paw as a Chicago cop came striding in. “All right, everyone back up. Step back and go about your business. This is a police matter now. Go on, move. Come on now, I want everyone to step back.”

  The cop looked down at me. For the fourth time I got the same questions: “What happened, Mister? What’s your name? How bad you hurt?”

  I moaned even more and said, “My name is Richard Dolton. I’m a business form salesman. I was going up to see a client and something on those stairs caused me to fall. My back is hurt and I can’t move my neck. I want you to check that first floor landing. And you, Zellman is it? When my company’s lawyers get through with this building you will be gone and so will this rat trap of a hole.” My voice had risen to an angry screech. I kept moaning in pain. “Go look upstairs,” I yelled at the cop as the faint sounds of a siren got closer.

  “Take it easy, Mr. Dolton,” Zellman whispered, “You will be all right. The ambulance is almost here. Hold on and please don’t get yourself all excited. I’m sure there is an explanation for this incident.”

  “Yeah, the explanation is you aren’t running this place very well. Just get me some help; I can’t stand the pain.”

  Two guys in whites rolled in with a stretcher and a gurney. After asking a few questions they put a brace on my neck and felt for broken bones. They said I was OK to move and they very gently loaded me on the stretcher and onto the gurney. As we were about to roll out to the ambulance the cop came up to me.

  “Uh, you were right, Mister. There is oil or grease or something on the stairs. I nearly slipped myself.”

  “Thank you, officer. I want your name and badge number. You are my witness. Can you write that information down for me? This Zellman character is not going to get off so easy now.”

  Zellman stood there wringing his hands and sweating as the cop wrote down what I asked for and stuffed a piece of paper in my coat pocket.

  “I’ll see you at the hospital,” Zellman said, “Be brave, Mr. Dolton, you are in good hands.” It sounded like he was reassuring himself more than me.

  Well, so far so good, I thought. It all depended on who they sent to the hospital to buy me off. I finally smelled a payday that could at least solve my short term money problems until I could empty Mobes out. Maybe, just maybe, something was going my way.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I had been running this scam off and on since I got discharged after the war. It caused me to move around a lot and left me in a permanently bruised state. I was lucky, because as a veteran with a purple heart and some actual damage to my upper back, I could always get some sympathy points. I always bullshitted them with D-Day and all that crap. The truth is I spent the war stateside as a cook and only got over to England as the war ended. I got hurt in an accident during a barracks fight when some jerk-off dropped a grenade. That’s how I got my war wounds. I spent almost all my time in the army playing cards with marked decks and shooting craps with loaded dice. As I was not very proficient at either (I was always afraid of being caught cheating) I made most of my money selling meat and other items out of the mess hall to the Limeys. I left for home pretty flush but lost most of my stash on the ship coming home. The rest I lost when I got in a fight with the wrong guys and ended up getting rolled. After I mustered out at Fort Dix, New Jersey, I hit the road.

  I guess I’m living proof that practice don’t make perfect. I’ve lied and scammed so much I can hardly remember my own name. But what does it matter? I can be anyone and no one. I really don’t exist. Whatever you want, that’s who I’ll be. At least I’m in a warm bed and I got a cute nurse who I think I can talk into jerkin’ me off. That is if I’m here long enough. The doctors aren’t sure if I’m faking it but the wounds on my back and neck are making them nervous and neck problems are hard to diagnose. I also know just what to say to keep them guessing. On top of that no one wants to mess with a war hero.

  I was starting to doze when I heard a knock at the door and that perky nurse stuck her head in. “You have visitors, Mr. Dolton. Are up to seeing them now?” I nodded that it was all right to let them in. Zellman and a short, pasty-faced creep with a thinning comb-over and a worn out briefcase gingerly stepped inside the room.

  “How are you?” they both asked. Zellman stepped up to my bed. “This is Mr. Markowitz, the buildings legal affairs man. We hope we can settle this unfortunate matter to your satisfaction. We will be glad to meet with your company’s representatives whenever they deem it convenient but we were hoping to avoid litigation, if possible. Of course all of your medical bills will be seen to and any follow up problems that might arise. The doctors tell us you seem to be only suffering from bumps and bruises but they want to make sure about your neck and they seem fairly certain all will be well.”

  “Really,” I said. “Is that what you think, Is that why I’m in this bed? I got a brace on my neck because the doctors are scared shitless of aggravating my war wounds. You two think you can sweet talk me out of bringing suit? What a pair you are. What the fuck did you two Hebes do during the war? Hold hands with Rosie the Riveter. You want to buy me off then you’re going to have to come up with some serious money or I’ll be on the phone to the home office in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

  They both looked at each other warily. Zellman’s hands started their little dance. The sweat was popping out all over his head. He must be on shaky ground with his company. I thought he was going to throw up in a minute. Meanwhile the other little turd was looking at him like he wished he was dead.

  “Well, I’m sure we can come up with an agreeable amount as long as you are willing to sign a waiver against any further claims. Did your company have a figure in mind?”

  I looked at Markowitz and held my hands out, palms up. “Look, fellas,” I said, talking to them like we were old pals. “I know how difficult it is in the business world. This sort of stuff comes up and no one wants the headaches that come with lawsuits. However, this is the cost of doing business and shit always
happens. So I haven’t notified the home office yet. I got a train to catch and I know how I could have something come up later, health-wise, if you know what I mean. But I think $5,000 ought to cover any medical emergencies that might arise in the future. What do you say we keep this in house and save ourselves a lot of trouble?”

  Both of they’re mouths dropped open. The midget Markowitz said, “That amount is out of the question. You surely don’t think we will stand by for out and out extortion?”

  I looked hurt and bewildered. “Well, gentlemen, what did you have in mind?”

  “We are prepared to cover your all costs here, give you an allowance for your ruined clothing, and a cash amount of $500 dollars.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. You want this thing to go away, all right, I’ll be reasonable. Give me $2,000 in cash and we can make a deal. But I warn you, any other word but yes and I am on the phone to the home office and the cost will be much larger and a lot more painful to all concerned.”

  The two creeps went over to other side of the room and blew in each others ears for 30 seconds. They came back to me with those phony concerned mugs all aglow.

  “All right, we’re willing to settle. We don’t like doing this sort of thing but perhaps it’s for the best.”

  I knew I had them now. They were probably seeing the headlines about a war hero claiming he was being bought off by the manager of a defective building and shyster Jew lawyer. Zellman handed me a document and a pen and told me to sign all copies where indicated. So, obviously, they had this deal all cooked up before they showed. Must be something hinky going on in that building for such and easy pay off. I really didn’t care about that; all I could smell was that green crossing my palm.