The meet was set for midnight. I called Benjy and let him know to be there at a quarter to twelve, waiting in the shadows.

“And get out of town for the rest of the day,” I said. Venus might go see him beforehand and start blabbing, which would fuck things up royally. “Go for a long ride up north. Get dinner over in Bakersfield or somethin’. Basically, stay out of Richards until later tonight.”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Lou,” he whined.

“So you’re gonna let the club down?”

“…no…”

“You’re gonna let us all go to jail?”

“…no…”

“And all because some whore stabbed you in the back, and you ain’t man enough to take care of business?”

He didn’t answer that one.

“Remember what I said? This ain’t Ali any more – this is Venus, a cokehead stripper. Who are you going to go see?”

“…Venus.”

“Who?!”

“Venus.”

“Good. Be there at 11:45 in case she shows up early.”

I hung up the phone.

Now I just had to take care of a few minor details.

One: make sure Venus couldn’t go contacting the Feds for backup.

Two: make sure she didn’t get all weepy on Benjy and soften him up. Which was a definite danger.

I stayed outside the front door of the Veils, smoking a cigar in the parking lot, until I heard the DJ’s muffled voice say, “Now let’s give a hand to the goddess of love Venus, who’s here to rock your ‘wild thang’… worship her with your dollar bills, gentlemen!”

I walked through the front door and startled Peanut at the register.

“We got a pair of bolt cutters, right?” I asked.

“Huh?” he asked, glassy-eyed. Probably drunk.

“Bolt cutters, motherfucker, BOLT CUTTERS. Those things you cut goddamn chains with – not to mention fingers and toes? Look like a two-foot pair of pliers?”

“Uh – yeah, I think so…”

“Well go get ‘em and meet me in the green room.”

I walked past him and entered the club.

Venus was up on the stage. If the ‘goddess of love’ really was looking for worshippers, she’d come up with a sorry crop here. Just a couple of out-of-work truckers and dirty old men, all watching from the cheap seats. But, that was your typical crowd at 6PM.

She was doing a halfhearted job up there on the pole. Her face coulda been the picture in the dictionary next to ‘boredom.’

But as soon as she saw me, I swear to God she almost pissed herself from fear.

I glared at her, then walked on past without another look back.

I barged into the green room, where the dancers put on their makeup and get changed. The only two strippers in there whirled around, startled, and then calmed down when they saw it was just me.

“Shit, Lou, you almost made me stab myself in the eye,” one of them said as she went back to applying her mascara.

“Get out,” I said.

They both looked at me like deer in the headlights.

“Do you understand fuckin’ English or not? GET OUT!” I roared as I threw a chair across the room. They both shrieked and beat a hasty retreat.

I went over to the lockers. The girls didn’t trust each other with their shit, which was probably the smartest thing about them, so the Veils provided banged-up gym lockers to store their purses and clothes. There were locks on a number of them – padlocks, dials, the little flip kinds with numbers – but I knew which one was Venus’s. As top dancer in the club, she’d claimed the top center locker. Nobody else ever touched it.

There was a shitty little dial lock through the loop. Probably could’ve used a hammer on it and busted it open, but just then Peanut walked in with the bolt cutters. “I found ‘em, Lou.”

“Give ‘em here and get back out front.”

Once he was gone, I took the cutters to the metal loop on the lock. One hard squeeze of the handles and the blades bit right through the metal: CLICK.

Easier than takin’ off a pinky.

I tossed the lock and looked inside. There was her metal-studded leather purse and her street clothes. I rummaged through the purse and pulled out her phone, which was in a rhinestone-covered case. I tried to open the lock screen, but the damn thing had a code. Either that or you could use a fingerprint.

I slipped it in my pocket and waited. I let the bolt cutters dangle behind my leg, out of sight.

She finally came in after the end of the second song. She eyed me anxiously – until she saw her open locker. Then she got mad as a hornet in a paper bag.

“What the fuck, Lou?!” she shouted as she ran over and started scrabbling through her purse.

“You lookin’ for your phone?” I asked. “I’m going to keep it safe for you until after our meeting tonight.”

“GIVE IT TO ME!” she yelled, and started beating her tiny fists against my chest.

That’s when I put a hand around her neck and slammed her against the nearest wall.

“Given everything you’ve put me through, loaning me your phone is the least you can – ah ah AAAH,” I snapped as she raised her hands. I knew she was considering going for my eyes with those nails of hers, so I held up the bolt cutter right next to her head. “Do NOT give me a reason to use this thing on you. You look way prettier with your nose on your fuckin’ face.”

She saw the cutter and her eyes went wide. She dropped her hands and just trembled in silence.

“As I was sayin’, I’m gonna keep your phone so you don’t go changin’ your mind and callin’ your Washington friends and spoilin’ our little party tonight. You can have it back afterwards.”

“Lou,” she whimpered, “I swear I haven’t been talking to – ”

I reared back the bolt cutters and bashed them into the wall so hard they left an indention half an inch deep.

She screamed and shut her eyes, then gradually opened them when nothing else happened.

“You can tell Jack all the lies you want,” I hissed, “but don’t fuckin’ say another word to me, you understand? Not another fuckin’ word. NOD YOUR HEAD, don’t speak.”

She nodded, though she couldn’t completely choke down her cries of panic.

I leaned in so far I could have licked her. I knew she could feel my hot breath on her face as I stared directly into her eyes.

“I know everything, bitch. Whose idea do you think it was to shack you up with Benjy? It was my goddamn motel. And how do you think he got all that cocaine? Who do you think paid for your little trip to Vegas? Who do you think he was coming back to every day, telling me every little detail, from who you called on your phone to how many times you sucked his cock?”

Her eyes went wide with shock. I could tell I’d taken her completely by surprise – a punch right to the gut.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “The DEA ain’t the only one with a mole, you stupid fuckin’ whore.”

I let go of her neck and walked towards the door. She slumped slowly to the ground, her back sliding down the wall, as she cried into her hands.

Before I left, I threw the bolt cutters to the concrete floor with a clang.

She jumped like it had been a gunshot.

“Don’t be late tonight, or else I’ll find you,” I growled. “And you won’t like what I do when I find you.”

Then I walked out of the club, got on my Harley, and rode off.