Split Image

54

MOLLY BROUGHT Natalya Ognowski into Jesse's office and held a chair for her to sit. Jesse could smell her perfume as she came in the door. Lotta perfume. She sat with her feet in their high pink wedges flat on the floor and her knees pressed together modestly. She was wearing a skirt that barely reached her thighs and a very tight cropped pink T-shirt that showed a lot of waistline. Her waist looked a little soft to Jesse, but he had recently been looking at Sunny Randall, whose waistline was not soft. Natalya was carrying a large straw bag that matched her T-shirt. She looked up timidly at Jesse.

"Chief Stone?" she said.

"Jesse," he said. "It's Natalya, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"Natalya Ognowski," she said.

"Nice to see you again, Natalya."

"Thank you," she said. "I need to talk about something."

"Good," Jesse said.

"I need your advice."

"You would be unusual in that," Jesse said.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll be glad to give you my advice," Jesse said.

"I have been dating Mr. Normie Salerno," she said.

Jesse leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach.

"Muscleman? Works for Reggie Galen?"

"Yes."

"Really?" Jesse said.

"Yes," Natalya said. "I am trying to find out who killed my husband."

"You are?"

"Yes," Natalya said.

"Does he know who you are?"

"No. He thinks I am a girl he picked up at the bar at Gray Gull."

"Why him?" Jesse said.

"He was who I could pick up," Natalya said.

Jesse looked at her silently for a moment.

"I'll be damned," he said. "Do you like him?"

"No," Natalya said. "He is a pig."

"I didn't like him much when I met him," Jesse said.

"But I date him and we do sex, and I give him vodka, and he talks about himself. But he doesn't talk about what I want to know. So we do more sex and I give him more vodka. I drink some of the vodka, too."

"I don't blame you," Jesse said.

"It is not so bad, I have only to give him sex and pretend I like it, and I can ask him about himself and he talks. He is very boring, but it is better than always doing sex."

Jesse was quiet. He knew she would tell her story in the way that she would tell it. There was no point hurrying her. If she had something, it would eventually appear.

"We always go to my apartment," she said. "I say I am only comfortable there. And he does not care where we do it. I am very good at doing sex."

Jesse smiled and nodded.

"And I have a tape machine that listens to everything that is said."

She took a small tape recorder out of her purse and put it on the edge of Jesse's desk in front of her. Jesse raised his eyebrows.

"Is it all right if I play some of it?" she said.

"It is," Jesse said.

"I will only play a part I think is important. Much of all the tape I have is of us doing sex, or Normie talking dirty. And me talking dirty to him to make him like me. It is embarrassing. I do not wish to play that."

"Good," Jesse said.

"Will you plug it in, please," Natalya said. "I do not know if the batteries are lasting."

Jesse plugged it in. Natalya stood and hovered over the machine for a moment. Then she pushed play and sat back down in her chair.

"We do all these things," Natalya said. "And I do not even know your whole name."

"Norman Anthony Salerno," he said.

Jesse was watching Natalya. She was listening as if she'd never heard it before.

Natalya giggled on the tape.

"How come you have such big muscles, Norman Anthony Salerno?" There was a faint sound of ice cubes clicking in a glass. "I pump a lot of iron," he said. "It's useful in my line of work."

"What do you do for work," Natalya said.

"I fuck you," he said, and laughed.

The ice cubes clicked again.

Natalya showed nothing as the tape ran. Occasionally she looked at Jesse, as if she wanted his approval.

"You don't need big muscles for that," Natalya said. "What do you do for money?"

"Man, you broads are all the same," he said. " 'What do you do for money?' I got plenty of money, don't worry about that."

"So, where you get plenty of money?"

The ice clinked.

"I'm the head of security for a very rich man," he said.

"Is that dangerous?"

"Can be," Normie said.

"You have a gun?"

"Sure," he said. "Guy my size don't usually need one, but now and then you need one, you know? To take care of business."

"What is 'take care of business'?"

Normie laughed.

"Man, you don't know much, do you," he said.

"No," she said.

"If somebody's a problem, and he has to be whacked… I take care of business."

" 'Whacked'?" she said.

"For crissake, killed," Normie said. "You understand killed?"

"You kill people?"

"I've killed a few," Normie said. "Get me a drink."

There was the sound of bedsprings and a faint sound of bottles and glasses and ice, then the bedspring sound again.

"Have you actually kill somebody?" Natalya said.

"Sure."

"I don't believe that," Natalya said. "I believe you tough guy. But I don't believe you kill someone."

"No?"

"No."

"I kill someone, two someones, right in town," he said.

"In Paradise?"

"Absolutely," Normie said. "You probably read about it in the papers."

"The two men on Paradise Neck?"

"Bingo," Normie said.

"I do not believe that," Natalya said.

"Ognowski," Normie said, "and Moynihan."

"You really did?" she said.

"Bet your ass," Normie said. "Course, you tell anybody and I'll deny it."

There was the sound of ice and glass and the faint sound of swallowing.

"And I'll kill you."

"I will not tell," Natalya said.

"I'll bet you won't," he said.

Again, the sound of drinking.

Then he said, "Let's get back to business here."

She giggled.

"You like how many times I can go?" he said.

"Of course," she said.

"Pretty good, huh?" he said.

"Very good," she said.