NEIL: Now! Twenty minutes, he’ll beat off and save the money.
TIFFANY: Christ, Neil—
NEIL: I said it’s now, baby. Now straighten your head up and let’s get it on.
TIFFANY: (Groans) Okay, five minutes, stall him for five.
NEIL: I’ll give you three.
Click.
LIVINGSTON: Tape PC-2, same subjects, one-thirteen P.M.
Click.
TIFFANY: Hello.
NEIL: You ready?
TIFFANY: I guess. This won’t win any prizes.
NEIL: I’m looking at a bill-and-a-half, not any Academy Awards. I’m patching you in now.
Click.
FREDDIE: H-h-h-hello?
TIFFANY: (Very softly) Hello Freddie.
FREDDIE: I, uh, h-h-how you b-b-been?
TIFFANY: Just fine, and you?
FREDDIE: Okay.
TIFFANY: Freddie, guess who I’ve got here with me?
FREDDIE: (Excited) I d-d-don’t know. I g-g-give up.
TIFFANY: My photographer friend.
FREDDIE: Y-y-you mean the one w-w-with …
TIFFANY: The redhead, Freddie, with the big tits.
FREDDIE: Oh y-y-yeah.
TIFFANY: She’s shooting for Penthouse this time.
FREDDIE: P-P-Penthouse?
TIFFANY: She looks really wild today. She’s wearing a silver, uh, lamé jumpsuit.
FREDDIE: W-w-with z-z-zippers?
TIFFANY: All the way down the front. Why don’t you just relax Freddie? Lay back and relax and let it happen, baby. You have some music on?
FREDDIE: B-B-Berlioz.
TIFFANY: Perfect.
FREDDIE: Are the z-z-zippers p-p-pulled down?
TIFFANY: Give me time, honey.
The zipper goes all the way down the
front.
And …
she’s zipping it down,
now …
real slowly,
down …
down …
It’s spreading open, Freddie. I can
just see.
Oh, wow, I can see the edge …
of her nipples.
The suit zips aaaall the way down
and under, you know?
When it’s open, Freddie,
you can see it all.
FREDDIE: W-w-what else?
TIFFANY: You know what I’m wearing, Freddie?
She brought it. It’s black,
silk, very thin silk,
with beige lace
across my tits …
and on the bottom, too. Just under my
hair.
And you know what’s under it, Freddie?
FREDDIE: W-w-what?
TIFFANY: A white garter belt
and white stockings.
Sheer white stockings.
Her zipper’s pulled down
below her stomach …
I can just see …
I can see the edge of her hair,
bright red,
curling over the slit in the zipper …
FREDDIE: The p-p-pop-p-poppers, d-d-don’t forget …
TIFFANY: Oh, wait until I tell you about that.
She has this, this special little inhaler.
It has two little tubes,
one for each nostril.
She’s breaking the poppers,
putting them in the tubes …
and … she’s
waving it …
waving it under my nose.
Oh! Oh, my God, Freddie …
I’m tingling …
tingling all over. Even my skin is tingling …
and my tits are hard …
hard like you, Freddie.
My pussy
feels like it’s going to …
FREDDIE: C-c-cunt … say c-c-cunt, I love it
w-w-when …
TIFFANY: My cunt
is burning up.
It’s throbbing …
It feels like it’s … it’s
vibrating
and getting wet.
I’m getting ready and
she’s beginning to shoot,
she’s straddling me.
Can you hear it, Freddie, the camera?
Sound of camera discharging.
FREDDIE: Oh yeah … I hear it …
TIFFANY: She’s making me
spread my legs. And she’s
kneeling
in between them …
leaning over.
Her knee is so close
I can feel the heat of her body. I …
I’m going to just
move down a little …
maybe just, touch it against her …
But she’s moving away, her knee
is moving away.
I can’t stand …
Oh Freddie, she’s pulling down one of
the straps
on the …
the …
oh, oh … on the negligee, sliding the
lace
over my nipples.
Back and forth.
Jesus, I’m hard.
It feels …
I feel …
like I have a volcano between my
legs …
shivering
ready to explode,
with hot lava.
She’s got the negligee down.
My tits are free.
They’re so hard and pointing up at her.
And now she’s
taking my hand …
putting my fingers in her mouth,
sucking them
She’s leaning over … her tits …
are rubbing mine.
God.
Oh, God, Freddie,
she’s taking my fingers, putting them on
our tits
making me squeeze them,
together,
and putting my other hand,
moving it down,
down,
Freddie … I’m touching it. All warm
and wet,
swollen,
swelling up.
Oh, yeah, she’s doing me …
with her hand on mine.
I can’t tell who’s doing …
doing what to who.
She’s zipping the jumpsuit down …
It’s taking her forever.
Um … okay … I can see it,
I can see the top
of her cunt.
She’s slipping out of it, taking it off.
Jesus.
She’s moving up on me.
Her cunt …
Oh, God, Freddie, her cunt is just …
just kind of brushing my tits.
And it’s so soft …
sooo soft,
like feathers, Freddie,
and my tit is wet from her.
I want to come Freddie …
FREDDIE: Not y-y-yet, no!
TIFFANY: She’s sitting down on me.
My nipple is …
God, it’s inside her.
She’s moving,
back and forth
and my
tit
is fucking her, Freddie …
Oh yeah,
oh yeah,
I’m so hard, Freddie,
my clit is standing up … like your
cock.
Are you hard, Freddie, good and hard?
FREDDIE: Y-y-yes …
TIFFANY: She’s rolling over on her side.
Taking my hand,
putting my fingers inside me,
moving them …
in and out …
in
and out …
and she has my other hand
on her cunt.
I’m stroking her
and she’s moving
back and forth
faster
faster
and I’m moving my hand in and out of
me with her.
&n
bsp; She’s rubbing me
she’s right on it and rubbing …
everybody’s together, moving together.
Jesus, Freddie, she’s getting off,
she’s moving real fast and
her mouth,
her mouth is wide open.
She’s
going
to come, and so …
so …
so …
Freddie, I can’t wait. Don’t make me
wait. She’s coming, Freddie.
She’s coming.
FREDDIE: Oh yeah,
oh yeah,
oh yeah …
TIFFANY: Here it comes, Freddie,
here it comes, Freddie.
Ohhh, Freddie,
ohhh, Freddie.
Ohhh,
ohhh,
Freddie …
Freddie …
Freddie … Freddie, Freddie Freddie,
Freddie …
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, Oh,Oh,Oh
AHHH!
Freddie cried out with her, a pinched, tight squeal, caught in the constrictions of his throat, and ending in a whimpering sigh.
Pause.
The tape was quiet except for the sounds of their labored breathing and an occasional sigh.
TIFFANY: Jesus, that was good.
It was really good. How about you
Freddie? How was it for you?
Pause.
TIFFANY: Freddie?
More heavy breathing.
FREDDIE: (Groans) Oh, God.
TIFFANY: Tell me about it, Freddie. I could get off
again, you know that, if you just tell me
how it was.
Still no answer.
TIFFANY: Freddie?
FREDDIE: Uhhh …
TIFFANY: You know what I’d like? I’d like you to
be here right now. Deep inside me. Make
me feel like a woman again. Can you do
that?
Can you get me off, Freddie?
FREDDIE: I w-w-want to t-t-try …
TIFFANY: Great. Because it’s building again,
Freddie. All for you.
Friscoe switched the tape recorder off. “Well, enough of that,” he said, “the rest is X-rated.”
Sharky sat in stony silence, staring at the machine. He was repulsed, yet strangely turned on by the intensity of the woman’s performance and by the eroticism of the phone conversation. He was embarrassed, but he shielded his feelings.
“If that Freddie has any problems, that’s pretty good therapy,” Arch Livingston said. “Look at Sharky, he’s struck speechless. Bet you never heard anything like that before, did you, speedy?”
Sharky shook his head.
Friscoe was laughing. “Little dirty trick there, Sharky,” he said. “That one there, that’s an odd-ball situation. Tell you the truth, I’d like to get a look at old Freaky Freddie. He’s the kind, sounds like he gives freaks a bad name. It’s what we call an ear job. A hunnerd-and-a-half ear job. Normally, see, what happens this Neil—he’s the pimp, okay?—he lines up the johns, makes the deal, then calls the girl. It’s strictly a one-way street, from the john to old pimpo deluxo to the hooker. She never calls Neil or the john. I don’t even think she knows his phone number. And neither do we yet. Anyway, it’s a very cautious set-up. Probably the neatest phone-and-fuck operation I’ve ever run into.”
Friscoe ran the tape forward; its garbled squeal filled the room. He stopped several times, seeking a particular take.
“How, uh, did you get on to this?” Sharky said finally.
Livingston smiled. “Believe it or not, a snitch.”
“One of the johns?”
Friscoe shook his head. “Naw, don’t I wish? You think any of these bimbos gonna say anything, put their balls in the wringer? Shit, no. It was this old campaigner we call Mabel the Monster, been street trickin’ must be ten years now. Her heels are so round she has to hang on to the lamppost keep from fallin’ over backwards. What happened, back there late in November we had some kind of religious convention in town. Shit, on Saturday night we had about a thousand Jesus freaks runnin’ all over town screamin’ and hollerin’ like a grizzly bear with his nuts caught in the door jamb. So, about seven o’clock the goddamn switchboard lights up like it’s the Fourth of fuckin’ July and then The Bat calls in, and the chief, and finally the commissioner himself. It seems the whole Peachtree hooker line turned out in force. Musta been, we counted thirty-two pros working the two blocks between the Regal Hotel and the Towers. So we go over, drop the hammer on about twenty of ’em, and poor old Mabel turns up in the lineup. Usually, see, she’s quiet as a lamb. She’s been nailed so much she oughta be payin’ rent down at the pound. Only this night, Jesus, we had a fuckin’ maniac on our hands. So Papa there, he takes her in the backroom, waltzes her around a bit, and turns out she’s pissed, see? She says we’re pickin’ on the low-renters and turning a deaf eye on the high-rolling ladies. For a while Papa can’t get anything specific outa her and then he offers to let her walk, she gives him something we can hang our hat on, and she comes up with a name and address. Bingo, we got Tiffany.
“We figure, the last three weeks or so, we got—how many, Arch?—ninety-one phone calls on tape, eighty percent is jobs. She’s turnin’ four tricks a week at five and six bills a pop and you gotta figure it’s at least a hundred g’s a year, tax free. Still, still misdemeanor, but, you know, big misdemeanor. Worth workin’ on. Then three days ago, we turn up this take I’m gettin’ ready to play for you. Now it’s a new ballgame because we got what looks like a shakedown. A fat one. And that’s felony extortion, baby.” Friscoe smiled and licked his lips.
“Also,” Livingston said, “we got a joker popping up in the deck.”
“We’ll come to that in a minute,” Friscoe said.
“Wouldn’t the IRS love to get a piece of this action?” Sharky said.
Livingston cringed. “Wouldn’t they though? And fuck it up for everybody else, as usual.”
“All those assholes are interested in is their own chunk of the kiwash,” Friscoe said. “They don’t give a diddly shit about anybody or anything but their own shitass little backyard. They’re as much help as a broken leg.”
“Maybe we could lean on Tiffany, get to Neil. He knows everything that’s happening,” Sharky said.
“You’re jumping the gun,” said Friscoe. “Just listen to this here take. There’s a lot happening. We move too soon now and we could blow the whole machine right down the fuckin’ toilet, believe me. Just hook an ear on this.”
He turned on the recorder.
LIVINGSTON: This is tape PC-74, tape recording of a telephone conversation between the subject, Tiffany Paris, Suite 4-A, the Courtyard Apartments, 3381 Peachtree Street, Northwest, December 15, 1975, three thirty-two P.M., and a male caller identified as Neil, n.l.n.
Click.
TIFFANY: Hello?
NEIL: It’s me.
TIFFANY: Oh, thank God, I was afraid it was—
NEIL: Hey, calm down, calm down.
TIFFANY: He came by here, no call, no nothing, just showed up at the door. Anybody could have been here. My mother—
NEIL: I said calm down. It’s taken care of. It won’t happen again.
TIFFANY: But it never happened before … it was like that … terrible little man following me that ti—
NEIL: Bag it, Tif.
Friscoe turned the machine off for a moment. “That bit there. We think what happened, some john probably took it on himself to bypass Neil, call in person. Blew her mind, see.”
“What’s that about somebody tailing her? Was that one of your people?” Sharky asked.
“No. We haven’t figured that one out yet. Anyway, moving along here we get to the meat.” He switched the machine back on.
NEIL: Listen to me. I talked to him, eye to eye, read him the facts of life. It won’t happen again, believe me.
TIFFANY: It really upset me. The man that was follow
ing me that time, the one in the leather jacket, I know he was cop and—
NEIL: He was not a cop. He was some shitass little conman looking for a buck. Besides, he vanished, right? When’s the last time you saw him?
TIFFANY: He was following Domino, too, Neil. She told me—
NEIL: Shit!
TIFFANY: I still think Norman sent him. He was so angry and he made those threats.
NEIL: Norman did not send him. And Domino’s forgotten all about it. Norman’s back in Texas, playing with his oil fields. Drop it. Now, I mean it.
“Here we go,” Friscoe said, “now listen close.”
TIFFANY: He told me, he was going to do something to my face. You try forgetting something like that.
NEIL: Tiffany, the son of a bitch was a pussycat. Those fat shmucks have to show the hair on their chest, make a little noise. You know, they think they got balls as big as the Ritz. One look at the stills and he coughed up his fifty grand and rolled over like a pet dog and that was that. The other guy, maybe he wanted a free piece, who knows?
TIFFANY: Domino told me she thought he was following her too—
NEIL: Domino forgot it, goddammit! She’s cool and you better … Jesus. That was back in October. You gonna carry that around the rest of your life?
“Who’s Domino?” Sharky asked.
“She’s the joker Livingston was talkin’ about,” Friscoe said. “All along we figured it was this Neil and Tiffany, period. Now we know he’s got another one in his stable. Listen …”
TIFFANY: Anyway, I think it’s too soon to try it again.
NEIL: You let me decide that.
TIFFANY: Can’t Domino do this one?
NEIL: Keep Domino out of this. What Domino and I do is none of your business. She ever bang your ear about what’s happening with her? Hell, no, she doesn’t.
TIFFANY: How come I get the dirty deals?
NEIL: (Pauses) Let me ask you, since when is twenty-five g’s a dirty deal? It’s passed. And this time we’re going for bigger stuff, maybe a hundred big ones, Tif. You want to sneeze off your half of a hundred grand?
Silence.
NEIL: Now are you set up for tonight? I don’t want you getting ants in your pants around Domino, got that straight? These two tonight, they’re worth a bloody fortune. Diamond merchants from Amsterdam. They’re throwing out fifteen hundred for the night. I don’t want you doing a sad-ass on me. They may be back and that’s big money for everybody.
TIFFANY: I’ll be fine.
NEIL: Good. They’ll pick you two up about eight-thirty in a limousine. Have a good time.
TIFFANY: Thanks.
NEIL: Later.
Friscoe switched the recorder off.
“Okay, there it is,” he said. “The way we put it together, this Neil and the Tiffany broad took some Texas oil millionaire named Norman for fifty grand. They had pictures, who the hell knows what else? But they stuck it to him and now it sounds like they’re getting ready for another round, only this time they’re sniffin’ after a hundred g’s. Christ, that’s just plain greedy.”