Music to my Soul
Chapter VI
Cole noticed the policeman he saw at Fredo's immediately. The man wasn't too hard to spot as he was in fact the leader of the raid. This gave him a little jolt, as he wondered if the two facts were related. Cole was reflecting on this as Paul came alongside him, still harbouring the mocking smile. Cole only gave him a quick glance and he turned back toward the police line, trying his best to ignore his friend. However, Paul chuckled, having noticed Cole's gesture.
"Hey boy…and there I thought nothing scared you…"
"Paul," Cole finally deigned answering, "I really don't know what you're talking about…"
"Oh playing innocent with me won't cut it, Cole…"
Cole stubbornly looked ahead, and Paul figured he might try to push it.
"Come on, I really wanna know what she did to you…"
"Aren't you supposed to do some reporting here?" Cole replied irritably.
"Hell, if a girl got to you, it's much bigger news than a bust…"
Cole snickered.
"You're dreaming…"
In front of them, the policemen were stalling for whatever reason and it gave Paul encouragement to continue his teasing.
"So…pretty hey?"
"With all your chatter, you're gonna alert the guys inside," Cole grumbled in annoyance.
"Same as you did in that brothel in Germany?"
They both remembered clearly the incident Paul was referring to. Only a week after the stunt they'd pulled with the bunker, their company stopped two miles away from a small German town. The Captain, probably thinking that it would annoy them, sent Paul and Cole on reconnaissance. What he had not expected was that the two young men could find something pleasant to do there.
They quickly asserted that there were no garrisons or even soldiers around the city. The place looked more like a small village than a town, short of a large building erected on its outskirts. Out of boredom, Cole decided to watch the comings and goings from that building. It didn't take him long to discover the place's purpose and Paul remembered clearly the wicked smile Cole had on when he came back toward him.
"Hey man, how long's it been?"
"Since what," Paul questioned, already suspicious at seeing the smile on his friend's face.
"Since the last time you got a piece of ass, what else…" Cole clowned.
"Alright, I give… what the hell are you talking about," Paul asked impatiently, although, deep down, his interest was peaked.
"While you were sitting here doing nothing, I found where we can really have a good time…"
"Cole," Paul started while giving the building a closer look, "you're not thinking what I'm thinking you're thinking in that oh so infantile brain of yours…"
"Hold the insults, Paul McKail. Who was it that was complaining about the monotony last night? I'm offering you the best distraction ever…and it doesn't hurt that it'll be our little revenge on the Captain for not appreciating us…"
"To the point…?"
"Girls, Paul… and willing ones at that…"
As Paul watched, three men came out of the building, laughing heartily, while a few girls showed up in the upstairs window. Paul couldn't understand a word they said, but it was obviously some sort of rowdy goodbye. Their quasi undressed state was a dead giveaway on their profession. Against his better judgement, Paul felt an urge to go as well. However there was still the matter of who those girls were, meaning the enemy.
"And exactly how do you think they'll greet a couple of American soldiers…"
"Don't you remember," Cole said while opening his pack. "I kept the clothes we found on that farm a few days ago… I knew I could find a use for them…"
"You were planning on visiting a German Brothel?" Paul asked incredulously. Cole threw an outfit against his chest, which Paul didn't catch. He looked from the outfit, now on the ground, to Cole with an undecided expression.
"You're so funny, Paul...I was planning on using it to gather some info incognito… but hell, it works nicely now, doesn't it?"
"Ok…you got the clothes, but that doesn't change a thing. The moment they hear us speak, we're dead…You might've a lovely accent, but I doubt those girl will appreciate it."
"Come on, Paul, stop exaggerating. These are only girls. We've got some of the local currency and that's the only language those girls understand or care about. Just keep your mouth shut and take your fun. I know I intend to," Cole said while changing quickly into the civilian clothes.
Paul only hesitated a few more seconds before doing the same. That didn't keep him from commenting.
"You're deeply insane, you know that?"
"Who's the craziest one? Me or you for following me…?"
"I'm just going because I'm sure you'll get yourself killed if I don't watch your back…"
"Why does that sound familiar?" Cole mocked, while hiding his gear and already going out of their hiding place. "Besides…You can't fool me Paul McKail. I'd recognize that lustful expression anywhere."
"Same to you," Paul answered gruffly, although he still followed his friend with a tingle of anticipation that he couldn't help finding stimulating.
Hardly enough, they entered the place without any problem and were soon matched up with a couple of really pretty girls … Things seemed to be going well as they were led toward the upstairs bedrooms. The blonde that Paul had chosen was definitely a forward girl who began undressing him even before the door was closed. At this point, he believed that Cole wasn't so crazy after all, particularly when her full lips closed on his shaft and he had to repress a colourful exclamation. Everything went to hell however when after a few minutes of her heavenly ministrations, he heard a sudden commotion coming from the hallway. Paul groaned in disappointment when the girl stepped away from him and opened the door curiously.
It didn't take long for Paul to understand that they were in trouble. Cole was cursing loudly, obviously very angry, and a girl was shrieking something in German.
Paul pulled up his pants hurriedly, not taking the time to button his shirt before he ran out of the room and found Cole facing a large angry man and a girl who was hiding behind him, while she went on screaming. Paul didn't have a clue what transpired, but it was clear that the man had ill intents toward Cole and he didn't hesitate to grab his friend by the collar. Throwing the obviously useless caution to the winds, he called to Cole.
"Let's get outta here!"
Cole seemed to want to go after the big man, but Paul didn't let him. He pulled so hard on him that Cole almost lost his balance.
"Hey!" Cole exclaimed. "I'm not done here yet."
"Yes you are," Paul insisted while practically dragging him toward the stairs. Cole almost hit him, but then he seemed to realize the trouble they were in because he followed Paul out of the building and they hurried toward their hiding spot. Neither spoke until they had grabbed their gear and put a good distance between them and the town.
Then Paul turned to Cole irately.
"You know I could just kill you!"
"Hey!"
"What happened?" Paul questioned just as angrily.
Cole didn't seem eager to explain and Paul became more curious than angry at this point.
"So?"
"Huh well…that girl started doing a pretty pleasant number on me, but then she stopped and tried to get more money. I tried to keep calm, but to be honest, I was a little frustrated and I screamed at her…she got real upset and called for her pimp…and well, the rest you know…"
"Jesus Christ, Cole! You couldn't keep your big mouth shut?"
"Fuck, if you had been there, you'd probably have done the same!"
"Well…" Paul replied, grudgingly agreeing, "I might actually forgive you…when I manage to forget you interrupted the best fuck I ever had!"
"Sorry man," Cole said with a half-smile.
"Oh don't you dare mock me. You know that we might be in a heap of trouble if those guys give the alert?"
"You saw like me; there were no soldiers around. Besides, they couldn't be certain if we weren't deserters or even civilians. I don't think they'll give themselves the trouble."
"You better be right about that. If the Captain hears of this mess, we won't need to wait for the Fritz to shoot us…"
"Hey I won't tell if you don't…"
"Hum…" Paul grumbled as he started back toward the camp.
Cole couldn't help teasing him a little more.
"So… she was that good?"
"I'll never know how much, thanks to you. You better shut up now, Cole. Or I might just forget about my own safety and denounce you."
"Alright, alright, I get it! You're mad…"
"How did you guess? Anyway, next time keep your schemes to yourself!"
Paul saw that Cole was about to add something but he gestured imperatively in his direction before hurrying ahead. At the time, Cole decided to drop it and believed it was the end of it. However, Paul never missed a chance to remind him of this little faux pas. Usually, they would both laugh about it pretty quickly, but right then, Cole didn't feel like being teased. In fact, as he saw the policemen starting toward the depot, he wished that Paul would simply forget about his current weakness… but much more than this, he felt an irrational anger building inside of him.
"Come on Cole. You can't leave me in the dark… I know there's something bothering you…"
"Paul, if you know what's good for you, you're gonna drop it," Cole replied between clenched teeth.
Paul realized that Cole was getting madder by the moment and it told him that there truly was something happening. However, he also understood that Cole wouldn't tell him anything that night. Maybe, he could try talking to him another time. In fact, he planned to do so when his friend was calmer.
"Alright," he whispered as they began following the policemen, "I'll drop it for now… But don't think I won't find out what's the matter with you…"
"That's what I get for being friends with a fucking journalist. There's nothing wrong with me, I told you!" Cole exclaimed. A few of the men ahead of them heard his exclamation and turned to him angrily. Cole sustained their stares without flinching, but deep down he felt stupid for allowing his anger to show like this. For a moment, he was even tempted to go back to the car, judging himself slightly too upset for this sort of activity. As he contemplated doing just that, Cole caught sight of a shadow disappearing around the corner of the warehouse. He couldn't be absolutely certain and decided to keep it to himself for the moment, but that intrigued him enough that he made up his mind to stick around. Ahead of them, the policemen were already nearing the large doors and they finally crashed through them, all their guns at the ready.
It was obvious they had been expecting some resistance, but none came. In fact, the place seemed deserted. Slowly the first few men went in walking cautiously, until they were satisfied there was no danger.
"It's clear," a loud voice called from inside. Cole thought he detected some anger in the voice and wondered about it. It didn't take long for him and everyone else to understand what caused it. The few men who had entered the warehouse came back out with dejected looks on their faces.
"What did you see," the man Cole knew as one of Fredo's creatures, questioned.
"Nothing! The fucking place was cleaned. There are a few crates in the back but they contain only clothes…"
"No fucking way," their leader exclaimed.
Cole observed him closely and he got the distinct impression that his disappointment was phoney. Even as he was thinking this, the man went in the warehouse in turn and Paul signalled that he still wanted to get a look at the place. Cole followed him and the photographer, who now seemed bored. They came in just in time to hear another exclamation.
"What the fuck," one of the policemen said as he pushed a crate aside. Behind it, there were two bodies covered in blood. They were riddled with bullet holes and it took Cole a moment to recognize one of them. When he did however, the slight malaise of earlier became much stronger. Cole grabbed Paul's sleeve and pulled him aside. Paul tried to shake him off as he wanted to get closer, but Cole insisted.
"Paul…"
Cole's voice was tense and it alerted Paul.
"What?" He said turning toward Cole while the crime scene became abuzz with comments and exclamations. His photographer had forgotten his boredom and was shooting as fast as he could now. Therefore, Paul figured he'd question the chief in a few minutes. He then gave his full attention to his friend, who looked even more upset than he had outside. Paul repeated his question when Cole didn't answer.
"What's wrong?"
"You know how I told you I saved Fredo's butt today," Cole began, while staring at the ever larger group of policemen around the bodies.
"Yeah, I got that," Paul answered without really understanding what it had to do with their earlier argument.
"Well, I'm guessing justice was served swiftly," Cole pursued cryptically.
"Ok Cole, I'm as fond of mysteries as the next journalist, but now, I'd really like you to get to the point. First off, you're making me nervous…"
Cole interrupted his comment.
"I just recognized one of the shooters…"
"What? Where?" Paul questioned while looking around until he followed Cole's stare and his jaw dropped. "Wow, now that's a strange coincidence…"
"A journalist like you doesn't believe in coincidence, Paul. And neither do I… There's something else…"
"I'm afraid to ask," Paul uttered in a low voice, now irrationally fearful to attract someone's attention.
"The guy who led this raid…he was at Fredo's this afternoon and Fredo's lieutenant paid him off…"
Paul opened wide eyes at this.
"Did he see you there?"
"No I just saw him through the window. But I'm sure it was him. And now this failed bust and the bodies…"
"Should really tell you that you've got to stay away from those guys…" Paul finished. "This is getting serious, Cole…"
"All the more reason to expose them…Leo might be right about this war…" Cole uttered pensively.
"Cole, you're not seriously thinking of going back there, are you?"
Cole didn't answer as he returned his attention to the crime scene. As he did so, he met the leader's gaze. This one was observing Paul and him curiously. Cole should have been ill at ease with this, but in fact, it stimulated him to find out more. "Or was it something else," Cole suddenly questioned himself. From the moment he saw the body, Cole had only two thoughts in mind. The first one was that there was a lot more to Fredo than he even thought; not to mention his enemies. However, it was the second one he had tried to ignore until now. Lara was living among these people, probably unaware of how truly dangerous Fredo was. As the policeman on the take looked away, Cole realized that he didn't know which motivation was the strongest for him going back. Either a sense of duty or the simple fear for this girl he had never even met before today.
"Cole?" Paul questioned, realizing that Cole was again lost in thoughts. "You haven't answered my question…"
Cole shook away the strange feeling to answer his friend.
"Leo asked me to do something… and he had a good reason. I won't disappoint him," Cole replied offhandedly as he turned away from the crime scene and left the warehouse.
Paul was tempted to go after him right away, but he still had to interview the police for his paper. Groaning at Cole's temerity, he shrugged and went in the direction of the group of policemen, albeit reluctantly.
After Cole got outside, he remembered the shadow he'd seen earlier. He had forgotten to mention that to Paul, but even now, he couldn't be certain if he had dreamt it or not. In reality, he was beginning to wonder if the man who was investigating the murders wasn't the very one who committed them at this point and he dismissed the shadow for the time being. At any rate, he caught sight of Leo, not surprisingly alerted about the bust, but late for it nevertheless… Cole had still been hesitating slightly in spite of his assurances to the contrary to Paul. Mostly because of the strange feelings that accompanied his urge to pursue this adventure. However, long before he finished relating what he knew to Leo, he had made up his mind.
Robbie entered the Pharaoh Club hurriedly, and then he slowed down, realizing that he might attract too much attention. He was new at this gang's business, although he wasn't exactly a novice at crime. At twenty-two, he had done quite a few things that anybody else would be ashamed of. Robbie might have been at some point in the past, but even at his young age he was hardened. However, he had to admit that killing was a little more than his usual, and he was shaken at the moment. Although, he couldn't be too sure if it was the killing that made him feel like this, or the bad news he was bringing to Fredo…
Robbie crossed the dance floor while trying to look as casual as he could and he spotted Fredo in his usual booth. The sweet Lara was there with him. For a moment, Robbie forgot about his worries to fantasize about her. Those full lips, he only wanted to crush them with his and most of all, he wanted to possess her. Granted, she was obviously a little older than he was, but Robbie didn't care too much about that. He actually believed that she must be an experienced lover. What a thrill that would be. The beginning of a hard on pressed against his pants and as he turned back toward Fredo, he became self-conscious and a little fearful. That took care of his arousal as he approached Fredo's lieutenant first.
"Saul, I've got to talk to Fredo…"
"Have you done what I asked?" Saul questioned instead of granting Robbie his request.
"Well yeah…it's all taken care of," Robbie said while looking cautiously around them. "But I still need to talk to Fredo," Robbie repeated stubbornly.
Saul stared at him severely.
"Anything you wanna tell him, you can tell me!"
Robbie stared back silently, but he was softening under the harsh glare of his superior. He was about to spill the beans to Saul when Fredo came to them.
"What's the matter," the old man questioned.
Saul seemed irritated by his boss's intervention.
"Robbie here has something to tell us," Saul answered, slightly insisting on the last syllable.
Robbie glared at him for a second, and then he turned to Fredo. He knew that something was up in their little gang. Fredo had been increasingly weary of his lieutenant lately and what had happened tonight might just be the proof that he was right.
"I went and did what was asked of me," Robbie began for Fredo, "but the other part of the plan didn't go as well…"
"Our two problems were taken care of, weren't they?" Fredo asked first.
"As I told you, yes…but Ricardo apparently got wind of the bust," Robbie added in a low voice.
Fredo remained very calm in appearance, but Robbie knew better than to think he wasn't reacting. Indeed, Fredo slowly turned to his Lieutenant and Saul seemed to shrink slightly under his boss's stare.
"Exactly how did he learn of this so quickly?"
Behind them, Phoebe was getting a little upset. She detested all the mysteries and covert conversations those guys kept having. Not that she cared all that much about what Fredo did, but she always wondered about her own position in this household. Particularly because she knew that Saul was suspicious of her. So much so in fact that she was the one who had begun insinuating things about Saul to Fredo. It hadn't been too hard. Obviously, Fredo had a suspicious nature and maybe deep down, Saul truly was untrustworthy. At least, Phoebe often rationalized her schemes in this fashion.
Rationalization was a big deal in Phoebe's philosophy of life and had been for a very long time. Just like when she had turned her back on Rudy in New York after he gave her food and shelter for over six months.
After fleeing the Reform School, Phoebe ended up in New York, but alone and penniless short of a few dollars Sylvia had left for her in the civilian clothes pocket. This money was soon gone as Phoebe ate and spent the night in a cheap hotel. Then she found herself on the street. This wasn't really what she intended and after almost a week of stealing the little food she ate and sleeping under a bridge, she was ready to prostitute herself if necessary. However when she actually tried, she got very lucky. A colorfully clothed man came to her that night and at first, she thought he would be her first client. He was smiling and gesturing exaggeratedly as he began talking to her.
"Hey you, sweet thing… you don't look like you belong here," he said in a soft voice.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Phoebe replied defiantly. "I'm here to do some business," she pursued, coming closer to the man.
"Oh girl, you're very mistaken here. You're not exactly my type." The man said with a teasing smile.
"What the hell are you talking about," Phoebe uttered angrily while stepping back.
"Come on little girl, don't get angry… I like my partners a little more masculine, if you see what I mean…"
Phoebe saw exactly what he meant, and at this point, she wondered if there were any normal people left in the world. After spending a few years fighting off lesbians in the Reform School, the first man she met was gay too. On the other hand, it wasn't an insult to the way she looked and she figured that he wasn't all that interested in that either. Without another word, she turned her back on him, determined to find business elsewhere that evening. She was famished.
"Hey," he called back. "Do you have a place to go?"
"Why would you care?" Phoebe replied curtly, while turning halfway toward him.
"Hum…I don't really like to see a pretty girl like you going to waste on the street. I may not have any physical attraction for girls, but I can see that you're not made for this life."
"You don't know me at all…"
"What if I was to offer you shelter?" The man pursued, ignoring her weak protest. "I've got a flat that's too large for me and I'm in between relationships right now."
"Again, why in the hell would you wanna help me?"
"Let's just say I'm feeling generous tonight. But if you don't care for my offer…"
Phoebe didn't answer right away. She was tired and ready to do just about anything to get some money, so that this offer wasn't any worse than what she had planned. Yet, the man could have been some sort of maniac… On the other hand, she reflected that she could meet a worse one next…
"What would I have to do?"
"Nothing really…well, maybe some cooking and cleaning…" When he saw Phoebe about to protest, he pursued quickly, "I don't want you to be a cleaning lady or anything… just do some work to earn your keep…"
Phoebe bit her lips in wonderment. The offer was tempting, if rather unbelievable.
"I guess… I guess I could give this a try…" She finally uttered hesitantly.
The man smiled anew at this.
"Well then, let's get you off this street, and for god sake, out of those dirty clothes. My flat's only five minutes from here…"
"I don't even know your name," Phoebe questioned as he started walking away.
"Rudy… Rudy Belamant. And you are…?"
Phoebe thought about it for a long moment, and then she replied.
"Lara…Lara Love…"
Rudy stared at her curiously for a moment but he didn't comment on the obviously made up name. He probably didn't care, because his was just as made up. Later on, Phoebe learned that it was his stage name. Rudy then started back and Phoebe followed him to his apartment.
Phoebe's musings were interrupted by Fredo coming back toward her. He seemed really unhappy and that didn't reassure her at all. Meanwhile, Saul and Robbie were leaving…
"What's happening," Phoebe asked the moment Fredo was beside her.
"We're going home, Lara," Fredo said in a manner that told her not to protest.
"You still haven't told me what happened," Phoebe still stubbornly questioned as she got up to follow him.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to worry your pretty little head with my business," Fredo answered gruffly, which only served to worry Phoebe more.
"I'll take care of everything, Lara…"
Phoebe was tempted to ask again, but she saw that now wasn't the right time and she followed him out, thinking that at least the next day she would have some pleasant time with Paige. Maybe she wouldn't be so worried and tense afterward…
Saul and Robbie stopped just outside the Club and Saul lit up a cigarette nervously. However, when he noticed Robbie staring at him, he glared back.
"Don't ever try a stunt like that again," Saul growled.
Fredo had finally agreed to trust Saul on his word that he had nothing to do with the failed bust. Or at least, he didn't insist on his culpability… Maybe it had more to do with the fact that the shooters were dead… Saul was starting to wonder seriously about his own safety in this outfit.
"So what do we do now," Robbie finally asked.
"We've got to figure out where the leak came from," Saul replied while staring at Robbie. Right then, this one worried that Saul intended to use him as the scapegoat. Maybe he shouldn't have talked to Fredo in front of the Lieutenant. Saul had a reputation of being vindictive. Now it was Robbie's turn to feel a shiver as he followed Saul to his car.
Cole entered his apartment building and almost didn't see the note stuck in his mailbox, so preoccupied he was with his inner conflict. When he did see it, he picked it up distractedly but soon recognized Rita's handwriting with a dejected sigh. He was tempted to throw it away unopened but he figured that it would constitute a distraction. The note was short and of the begging kind.
"Cole, you have to reconsider. I swear I'll do anything you want. I can't stand the idea of not seeing you again. I don't know what I'll do if you don't come back… Rita"
"Well," Cole thought as he tossed the note into the wastebasket, "that wasn't much of a distraction." He was used to these sorts of messages. All of them were of the same nature and usually didn't provoke any urge of going back in him. However just as he was heading for the stairs, he hesitated slightly. For the space of a moment, he was almost tempted to call her. Maybe if he slept with her, he would manage to forget about Lara… Then, an even more unusual feeling invaded him. He felt bad at the idea of hurting Rita uselessly. Sighing, he went on to the stairs, reflecting that it was much better for her not to see him again. Outside the building, Rita was standing in the shadows. Through the glass doors, she saw Cole throwing the note away and tears of rage brightened her eyes as she stood there long after he had gone up.
Then she uttered between clenched teeth, "you can't do this to me. I'll make you come back…" In saying so, she pulled a gun from her handbag and looked down at it with a crazed expression.