Free Zoot-Suit Murders by Thomas Sanchez Page A

somebody had to put you on to me. There isn’t one boy in the street who doesn’t know the Virgin Mary hates
nieve
, heroin, hates Horse. It’s not a love potion like cocaine; it kills you between the legs. I don’t like my sailor boys dead between the legs when I get them, understand?” The Virgin Mary pressed the barrel harder. “I like my seafood served nice and crisp when I reel it in. Know what I mean, dope addict?”
    Younger tried to answer, but the pistol barrel was jammed so far under his chin it pressed against the base of his tongue, slurring his words painfully. “I didn’t come here for Horse… I came here for Sea Biscuit.”
    “Isn’t that cute?” The Virgin Mary released the pressure of the metal barrel. “You don’t want to connect, all you want is to bet on Sea Biscuit.” He rammed the barrel harder into Younger’s chin. “Now who sent you to me to make this bet?”
    “I’m not after to connect!” Younger heard Tony Tomale thudding up the steps. “Wino Boy told me to come and ask to make a bet on Sea Biscuit.”
    “Tony, darling.” The Virgin Mary slipped back from Younger, fluffing the blond curls of his wig as he waved the small pistol, motioning Tony Tomale into the room. “Tony, would you be a darling and show our little sports fan here what we do with liars?”
    Tony Tomale moved his bulk directly in front of Younger,the shiny metal sliver of a tattoo needle held delicately in the sausages of his stubby fingers. He moved the sharp silver needle to Younger’s face.
    “Now, dear.” Virgin Mary puckered his lips at Younger and blew him a kiss. “Tell us the truth or Tony darling is going to give you a new face. How would you like to look like Rin Tin Tin?”
    “I’m telling you the truth.” Younger tried with the full power of his back muscles to break the hold the sailor had on him. The needle in Tony Tomale’s steady hand came closer to Younger’s face. “I was sent here by Wino Boy. He said you knew everything there was to know in the Barrio. I want to know who set the Horse loose again. It’s all over the streets out there. I’m not a pusher. I’m a Catholic social worker. I’m trying to stop the Horse from killing those kids. They’re your people being killed.”
    The Virgin Mary’s lips lost their pucker. He took the tattoo needle from Tony Tomale and held the point straight to Younger’s left eye, watching the pupil pulse and dilate in fear beneath the sharp metal point. “Now listen, dear.” His voice hissed in Younger’s face. “I’m going to give you the benefit of a Catholic doubt, but if you are lying to me and want Sea Biscuit for the wrong reasons, darling Tony here will hunt you down and darn this needle right through your eye and out your brain.”
    Younger didn’t move. He felt the sailor release his iron hold. The Virgin Mary turned and swished back to the bed, lounging across the sheet in a flurry of silk, satin, and nylon.
    “What about my bet?” Younger was still afraid to move, the Virgin Mary’s pearl-handled pistol shining alongside a bottle of fingernail polish on the nightstand next to his bed.
    “What do you mean, dear?” The Virgin Mary batted the thick lashes drooping from his heavy eyelids.
    “Wino Boy told me to say I’d like to place a bet on Sea Biscuit.”
    “Oh, yes,
Sea Biscuit.
Dear, if you’re really such a sports fan you must go to pier 128 in San Pedro, always before dawn.If you are a good little scout, learn your knots and say your prayers sooner or later you will see Sea Biscuit. I promise you, Sea Biscuit will win, place, or show.”
    Younger moved cautiously toward the door, but Tony Tomale’s hulk was blocking it.
    “Dear?” The Virgin Mary’s voice came up low and sultry. Younger turned to see him slip his slender legs open with a whisper of nylon, a bulge beneath his pink panties. “Don’t you think my cookie is better looking than a movie star’s, like Rita Hayworth’s or Barbara