Edge: Ten Grand

Once inside the house, the doors were quickly slammed closed and Edge cast sidelong glances at the two Mexicans, saw that the memories of past visits were crowding into their minds.  There had been no plan of campaign discussed as the trio set out for the bordello and now they were inside it, the Mexicans were obviously concerning themselves with a more urgent need than ten thousand dollars.  Edge himself had done no forward planning, had chosen to wait to see the set up before deciding how to go about locating the cache.

“Girls,” the madam said and the prostitutes rose wearily and pirouetted with a complete lack of grace.

As they turned Edge saw that each had a number sewn to the back of her shift and his eyes narrowed as he saw the numerals, his mind formulating the outline of his first attempt to find the money.

“Rosita for me,” Ramon said.

“And I’ll take Margarita,” his uncle decided.

One girl, young and slim, stepped towards Manuel while another of almost forty with broad hips and large breasts approached Ramon. They were numbers ten and eight respectively. Many of the numbers between one and twenty-five were missing, their owners apparently already engaged with clients of the house.

“We number the girls for the benefit of Americanos not familiar with our language,” the madam explained to Edge.  “I can recommend numbers twelve and twenty-one, señor.  Both are new.  Not virgins, you understand, but almost.”

The two designated smiled beguilingly at Edge the others glowered.

“I’ll take one,” the tall American decided, his hooded eyes falling upon a thin girl who was very young and quite plain, with a narrow, small breasted body.

When the girl smiled at being chosen she showed a row of broken, much stained teeth.       The madam smiled. “She is only twelve. We do not get many Americanos in Montijo, but when we do, they all choose the youngest.  Maria is young in years, but experienced in the ways of love.  Payment before.” 

The woman held out her hand and was rewarded with pesos from the Mexicans, a dollar from Edge’s fast dwindling supply.

“The girls will show you the way,” she said, nodding to a door at the rear of the lobby as the unselected girls resumed their seats. “If your partners please, I ask that you give them no money.  I will collect it when you leave and put it in the bank for them.”

Everybody in the room knew she was lying, but nobody made a comment, Ramon and Manuel moved towards the door with their girls and Edge followed with the young Maria. The door gave on to a corridor badly lit in comparison with the lobby.  As they moved down it,

Edge saw that doors on each side were numbered with crudely painted numerals and from behind some of them came sounds of released passion.  He formed his lips into a line of satisfaction when Margarita halted outside a door marked ten, opened it and stood aside for Ramon to enter. Then, further along, door eight was opened by Rosita who ushered Manuel inside.

“We will stay all night,” Manuel said in English. “Until it becomes quiet and all are asleep.”      

Edge nodded and went in the wake of Maria, following her to the very end of the corridor, where she opened the door numbered one, went in ahead of her client.  The room was at the side of the building and Edge could hear the restless movements of the burros and his horse just beyond the boarded up window.  This was something he had not planned for, but it fitted well with what he had in mind and his expression was almost one of smugness as he surveyed the room.  It was little more than a narrow alcove, wide enough for a bed with a strip of bare floorboards beside it.  On a shelf attached to the wall above the head of the bed was an array of feminine accouterments.  There was nothing else in the room.

But this did not cause Edge any concern.  It was only his first attempt and he was prepared to fail.  His thinking was that a single snake formed the design of the ring.  Any reasonable number could have been incorporated, but had not been.  Thus, one snake could indicate girl number one or room number one at El Serpiente.  And, Edge thought, if he was in the right place, the money would not be on open display.

So he looked at the girl as she lit the stub of a candle, placed it in the center of a dish upon the shelf.

You require anything special, señor?” she asked dully, unbuttoning the top of her shift

“Straight,” Edge said.

The girl’s smile was a genuine one, of relief, then became hidden as she grasped the neck of the garment and pulled it up over her head.  She was completely nude underneath, her body thinner than it appeared when covered, protruding bones giving it an ugly, angular appearance. Edge reached her in two short strides, drawing his right hand gun.

“You need some beauty sleep, honey,” he said in English and rapped her hard on the head with the gun butt, caught her body as it went limp.