A Head Of The Game by David Hesse - HTML preview

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Chapter 31

We arrived at The Castaways at four p.m. the next Thursday. This was supposed to be a busy time for them; a happy hour from four until six p.m. with all the first shift personnel from Cudahy Meat Packing Plant just getting off work.

When we opened the door, we were hit with a wave of stale cigarette smoke and moldy beer. It was dark and the only lights were from the flashing Schlitz and Gettlemen Beer signs behind the bar and the red lights in the ceiling which were situated over fish nets that were strategically cast over the sides of what looked like fishing skiffs that were cut in half and stuck in the walls which were covered with what appeared to be old barn wood. Pictures of tropical islands and fishermen in fishing villages and bare breasted island girls were strategically placed over every booth and table. There was drift wood scattered about the wall and nailed to posts giving one the feeling that the place just washed ashore from the Milwaukee River.

It didn’t come close to replicating Judges Beyond The Reef where I had first met Jimmy The Peanut.

The bartender was another dickie frau, a big breasted blond German lady with a black dog collar with protruding chrome spikes secured tightly around her neck. She was clad in a pair of large shiny black leather pants that looked like they could cover an entire cow and a red tank top exposing her ample midriff which hung in folds over the top of her skin tight pants. She was polishing a beer glass that she had just picked up from the wash tank behind the bar while carrying on a conversation with a couple of grey haired gentlemen in business suits sucking on a couple of fat cigars and sipping on a shot and beer.

There were two waitresses sitting at the end of the bar smoking cigarettes waiting for the first wave of customers to arrive. One, a petite brunette smashed out her cigarette in the ashtray and stood up and walked toward us.

“Classy place, Max; I’m surprised you haven’t been here before,”

Detective Williams chided.

“Now that I know it’s here, I’ll put it in my tour book. I replied. May I call you EJ, just for tonight? I know you don’t want me to call you detective.

“Dammit Max, cut it out. Yes, call me EJ.”

I smiled as even a small victory is important in my ongoing battle with the formidable Emily Williams.

“How many,” the little brunette asked as she stepped in front of us.

“How many what?” I asked.

She looked at me as one would a stool sample, “How many in your party?”

EJ had had enough of my sarcasm and stepped in front of me and said. “Don’t mind him, he’s an ass. There’ll just be the two of us.”

The little brunette rolled her eyes and said to EJ, “Aren’t they all?”

“You got that right, honey.”

“My name is Claudette, what would you like to drink?” She said as she wiped off the table with a rag that at one time must have been white but now was a light brown and was just pushing a sticky residue around the top of our table.

“I’ll take a boilermaker, Old Forester with a Blatz back.” EJ replied.

“You got it. And you sir?” She asked turning in my direction.

I’ll have a brandy manhattan on the rocks. Just use your well brandy.”

“Yes sir, I’ll be right back,” she said. She turned to EJ and smiled before walking back to the bar.

“Max, for a guy who thinks he is manly, you drink a pretty weak drink. Brandy sweet manhattan? My God, I drank those in high school. Now I understand why you ordered those Pink Squirrels at Maders the other night.”

I wasn’t in the mood to argue with her so I just sat there and took the verbal abuse like a man.

When Claudette returned with our drinks she had a bowl of pretzels on the tray as well.

We thanked her and told her we would be ordering a sandwich after a couple a rounds of drinks.

As I nibbled on some pretzels and sipped my manhattan, I looked over the rim of my glass at EJ. She had taken a couple of swallows of her Blatz beer and had lifted up her glass of Old Forester Bourbon and was eyeing it up. I was curious on how she was going to attack it seeing as we were on an undercover assignment and, this being my first; I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to consume alcohol.

EJ brought the shot glass up to her nose and took a sniff before dropping it into her glass of beer. She picked up the glass of Blatz and watched the bubbles rise to the top before tilting her head back and chugging the mixture of bourbon and beer. She slammed the empty glass on the table and wiped her full red lips with the back of her hand.

“Man, that was good,” she said.

“I’m impressed EJ, I crooned. Just the way the big boys do it.”

“You oughta be impressed, Max. There isn’t a big boy who can keep up with me. I could do this for a living.”

I didn’t want to remind her that was what she was doing so I just sat there and smiled as she grabbed a handful of pretzels and, in an unlady like fashion, stuffed them in her mouth and said, “Now we get down to business.” She waved her hand at Claudette and when she got her attention, she circled her arm around our table indicating she wanted another round.

As Claudette approached she eyed EJ and said: “Arlanda, our bar manager, said she’d like to buy you the next round.” Claudette placed the second round of drinks on the table in front of us.

“Well, let Arlanda know I appreciate the offer and that I am ready for the next one already,” EJ said as she waved at a smiling Arlanda who was leaning over with her elbows on the bar showing us, or I should say EJ, her ample cleavage.

“Shouldn’t we take it kinda slow?” I asked; I wasn’t appreciating the fact that so far all the ladies in the bar were ignoring me and paying attention to EJ, who was supposed to be my date.

EJ ignored my question and looked over in the direction of the bar and picked up her glass of beer and took a big swallow before dropping in her shot of bourbon. She raised her glass to Arlanda, threw back her head and downed her second drink in four gulps “Get over next to me, Max, we have to make this look good, she said wiping the froth from the beer off her lips. Remember, this is work and doesn’t go beyond that. Strictly business, do you understand?”

I nodded my head yes as she put her hand behind my neck and brought my face close to hers and planted a long slow wet kiss right on my lips.

The pressure from our lips colliding caused them to part so, being the opportunist that I am, I decided to insert my tongue and do a little exploring. Was that a soft moan I heard escape from EJ’s throat? I guess she really did enjoy her job.

That thought barely cleared my mind when I felt EJ’s teeth clamp down on my tongue. The pain was unbearable but I couldn’t communicate that to her, so there we sat, face to face with my tongue stuck in her mouth and her teeth clamped down on it. I looked in her eyes and what I saw caused a chill to run down my spine. She just might bite it off, I thought.

Tears started to roll down my face from the pain and I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back. Luckily she released my tongue or I might have lost it; or at the very least, it would have been stretched out by a foot.

“Geez EJ, why’d you have to go and do that for?” I asked.

“Max, don’t you ever go anyplace on my body without asking me first, do you understand? That kiss was for our friend Arlanda’s benefit. Not yours. I don’t want her getting any ideas about me either.”

I sat there nodding my head in agreement while blotting the blood off my tongue with my cocktail napkin thinking this assignment wasn’t going to be as much fun as I thought.

The door opened and people from the first shift at Cudahy’s Meat Packing Plant started to file in for their nightly shots and beer along with a bunch of strange looking people dressed in latex, leather, PVC, corsets, fishnet, velvet and outfitted in vampire, medical, chain mail, body armor, kinky drag, bondage, Lolita, burlesque costumes, and other subculture subhuman expressions. But so far The Peanut hadn’t been one of them.

“EJ, what is this place, Lair De Sade?” I asked.

“Max, I think I just found a home for you.” She laughed.

It wasn’t long before Harry and Detective George arrived; they stopped in the entrance looking like, well, looking like detectives looking around; I noticed a slight nod from Harry, indicating he saw us sitting in the back of the room.

They went to the end of the bar and sat down. Pretty soon Arlanda approached them to take their order.

Light from outside filled the front of the bar as the door opened wide once again, but the light didn’t stay long as a gigantic figure strolled in and stopped to look around. I recognized The Peanut immediately.

Who wouldn’t? I have never seen anyone that large before, except maybe Andre The Giant and I actually haven’t seen him in person.