The Mask of Minos, Bruno's Inferno

Chapter 45 - The Pinto

                                    

The Pinto pulled up into the long heavy shadows of the Attica Hotel and parked. A tall thin, almost gaunt man got and lit up a cigarette. He drew his dark eyes across the street taking note of everything there. Children playing with a stick and a hula-hoop ran up and down the middle of the road laughing and shouting.

The same everywhere, he scorned. Fucking kids should be in bed after dark. The air contrasted with his mood and a cool breeze blew through the neighborhood. He pulled on his denim jacket, holstered his pistol and headed inside.

Where the hell is that crazy bitch? He mumbled under his breath and looked suddenly around as if she might overhear him. "Crazy fucking bitch."

Two people stood at the elevator, he walked up to the desk and stared at the clerk who was on the phone. "What room is Harry Thursday in?" He hadn't waited. The clerk looked up and held his hand over the phone mouthpiece, "I beg your pardon?"

"The number please. Harry Thursday's room."

The clerk stared dumbly at the man. We can't give out that information sir, I'm sorry."

"Tell me," he said, and cracked a faint smile.

He stared back nervously, stammered; I, I really am not allowed to tell anyone that sir, please.

He slid a twenty dollar bill across the counter. The clerk looked at it and then reached for it, but the man slowly put his hand over it all the while his eyes were glued on the clerk.

"Sir, I..." He looked up at the thin man, his long hair hung limp and dirty. He noticed a scar just under the hair line about three inches long and crudely stitched – jagged. He turned the book around for the man to see.

He ran his finger down the register and stopped at Harry's name; room 529. The elevator took forever but he wasn't about to walk five flights of stairs. He watched the numbers rise to the fourth floor and stop. As he waited, he looked around the room. The clerk was back on the phone. A black urn, tall and dusty sat in the one corner of the lobby. Next to it was a chair – the cat sleeping on it. He noticed minute details; a small chip in the paint above the dining room doorway, someone had missed the dusty golf ball under the chair. The cat looked lazily at him and closed its eyes.

"Cat," he whispered, and was about to go over to it when the elevator doors opened, and a young couple dressed for the night came out laughing and holding each other closely. He stepped inside and pressed number five.

The doors opened and he took the ashcan from the corner of the elevator and stopped the doors with it. He stood in the hall looking as the doors banged against the can, and opened again, repeatedly.

He found the room, listened and waited. Carefully, he turned the knob. Locked. Using his credit card, he slid it between the frame and the door. It opened. He drew his pistol and carefully opened the door. As he entered the dark room light came from the windows through the sheers that covered them. They blew lightly in the breeze. He stepped inside and moved quickly away from the door hiding in a shadow. He could hear someone breathing, a slight movement of feet shuffling across the carpeted floor. His gun wasn't silenced, and that pissed him off. He holstered it and pulled out his knife; it flipped open.

A light clicked on and there stood Carla barely two feet from him against the wall, her gun inches from his face.

"I nearly killed you, you stupid bastard."

He had never seen her like this before and stood gaping at her naked body. He blushed and said nothing. She moved casually about the room, as if doing so naked were something natural in front of men – in front of him. He knew she derided him because she had seen him once before in the bathroom after a shower, seen his tiny penis and she laughed uncontrollably at him, staring at it. Just point and laugh Bitch. He'd wait for the chance to prove to her he was a man, just as much as any other she had screwed. I hate you.

Carla searched the drawers and luggage, picking up and discarding panties and bras, taking her time, knowing it would excite him. His eyes never left her. She enjoyed the feeling of power she had over men, especially this one. When she was thirteen she would go to the small creek near her home, lift up her dress and masturbate in front of the men who were fishing in the rapids. If they tried to approach her, she would quickly run away while they stumbled over the rocky bottom. It all excited her.

She found a pair of socks that came up to her knees picked out a light sun dress from the closet and faced him and slipped it over her head. She took a small purse and emptied it on the bed, and put her pistol in it.

"Did you have to fall asleep?" he asked.

She ran her hand across his black scruffy beard, "I was tired." She sat in a chair and put her boots back on. "Well?"

"I lost them."

"Did they see you following?"

"I'm pretty sure not. Traffic is a fuck in this city. It's easy to get lost."

She didn't believe him. She never did like him all that much, but he was good at what he did, and decided to test his phlegm. "You let them see you didn't you? Where the hell were they headed when they lost you?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know," he pointed his hand to his left. "So what are we going to do now?"

"We're not going to wait here all night."

"We won't have to," he said confidently. He walked to the door and peaked into the hall. Looking back at her he said, we should leave now.

"What are you gonna do with that?"

"Shut up and go," she picked up her things and leaving no clues she pushed against him trying to get him into the hall. He resisted and went on his own and they ran down the hall. The elevator was still blocked and they got in and put the can back inside. She smelled good, he thought, better than her usual dirty ass. He noticed her hair was clean too, and the wildness combed out. He said nothing. Why compliment her? Bitch won't give me the time of day.

They got off on the second floor and let it go down, taking the stairs to the lobby. Stu was getting on the elevator as they came out through the door. Carla went outside to the car still holding her things all neatly bundled in a ball. He saw the clerk look away, and walked over to the front desk.