Free Boldt by Ted Lewis Page A

companion fusses out his wallet and hands it over to Murdock who flips it open and takes out the companion’s driver’s license.
    â€œJoseph H. Nicholson,” Murdock reads. “1157 Bellevue Drive.”
    Nicholson doesn’t say anything.
    â€œNice district,” Murdock observes.
    â€œYeah,” I say, lighting up a cigarette. “Very nice.”
    Murdock digs a little deeper into the wallet and eases out some photographs.
    â€œThis your wife?”
    Nicholson nods.
    â€œNice,” Murdock says, passing the photograph over to me.
    â€œYeah,” I say, looking at the picture.
    â€œYour daughters?” Murdock says, taking out another photograph.
    Nicholson nods again.
    â€œBeautiful girls,” Murdock says. “They in college?”
    â€œYes.”
    Murdock hands the photographs to me.
    â€œBeautiful girls hey, Roy?” Murdock says, then to Nicholson, “I expect you’re pretty proud of them?”
    Nicholson looks at the hustler for some help but the hustler has walked over to the window and is inspecting the traffic flowing by outside.
    â€œThey proud of you?” Murdock asks.
    Nicholson snaps his gaze back at Murdock.
    â€œThey proud of their daddy?” Murdock says.
    I look at the photograph and I’m struck that the two girls smiling out of the picture could easily be the two girls who were accompanying Harold Schwarz early this morning, the same kind of bright smiles, the brilliant teeth, the fresh complexions.
    â€œThey carry pictures of you in their billfolds, too?” Murdock asks. “Like having your dick sucked by guys like Cliff here?”
    â€œI’m telling you,” Cliff tells Nicholson without turning away from the window. “They’re going to shake you down. Just wear it and pay them all your money. You can afford it.”
    â€œWhat’s the matter, Cliff?” I ask him. “You’re talking yourself out of your hourly rate.”
    â€œI’ll get by,” Cliff says.
    â€œYou bet your sweet life,” I tell him.
    Murdock counts the bills in Nicholson’s wallet.
    â€œYou made a good score this time, Cliff,” Murdock says. “You know how much he’s carrying in here? He’s got almost three hundred bucks.”
    â€œLook,” Nicholson says to Murdock, almost whispering, as if he doesn’t want anybody else in the room to hear, “look, take it. The only thing I care about is getting out of here and nobody knowing, okay? Just take it, will you?”
    Murdock slams Nicholson up against the door and slaps him across the mouth with the billfold.
    â€œListen, filth,” Murdock says. “Shut up, will you?”
    Nicholson’s eyes are wide with fear and incomprehension.
    Murdock looks at him for a minute or two then he slaps him twice more with the billfold and drops it on the floor.
    â€œCome on, Roy,” Murdock says to me. “Let’s leave these two motherfuckers to fix a price for the job.” Murdock pushes Nicholson out of the way, opens the door and goes out into the corridor. I jerk a thumb at the clerk and he goes out, too. When I get to the doorway, I turn around to Cliff who has already turned away from the window surprised at the way things have worked out.
    â€œListen, sweetheart,” I say to him. “Those lips of yours, they’re your stock in trade. You’re lucky they’re still arranged the same way.”
    I close the door behind me.
    â€œI never could stand guys like that,” Murdock says. “They give me the fucking creeps.”
    â€œWell, you know what they always say,” the clerk says.
    â€œNo,” Murdock says, looking at him. “What do they always say?”
    â€œNothing,” the clerk says, looking away.
    â€œGood.”
    â€œThat the empty room?” I ask the clerk, pointing to the remaining door.
    â€œThat’s right,” he says.
    â€œLet’s take a