Bad Doctor

50

“Tell me,” I say.

“I like the idea of this being a civil transaction,” she says.

“Me too.”

“You’ve got a safe in your bedroom closet.”

“No I don’t.”

“It’s built into the floor, under the carpet.”

“I’ll say it again. Damn, you’re good.”

“How much cash is in it?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Rough estimate.”

“Thirty-five.”

“Thousand?”

I nod.

“Wow,” she says. “Okay, so the number’s still two-fifty, but it’ll take time to gather that much cash without raising suspicion.”

“I agree.”

“I’m told the bank won’t report checks you cash for transactions under ten grand.”

“I think that’s right.”

“I’ll take the thirty-five up front and put it in a safe deposit box. You’ll open new accounts at five different banks and write three checks a week for nine thousand each, spread among the different banks. That’s twenty-seven grand. Once a week we’ll go to the track and you’ll piss away up to five thousand dollars. The balance of the money will go in my safe deposit box. When that amount hits a hundred grand, I’ll have sex with you once a week until we hit two-fifty.”

“Really?”

“I think it’s fair.”

“Why do we have to go to the track?”

“The banks will wonder what you’re doing with all that cash. People will see us at the track, you’ll tell them your new girlfriend loves the ponies, and the word will spread.”

“I’d rather go to Atlantic City and shoot craps.”

“Bad plan.”

“Why?”

“Casinos keep detailed records.”

“I’ll say it a third time.”

“I’m good?”

I nod.

She looks at me with interest.

“You’re taking this awfully well,” she says.

I shrug my shoulders. “What can I say? I’m lonely.”

She nods. “Lonely’s tough.”

“Would you consider living with me while I’m raising the money?”

“I’d be honored.”

“That’s pretty civil of you.”

“I’m not an unreasonable person,” she says.

“Can I have anal?”

“Did you seriously just ask me that?”

“Yes.”

“No.”