?I thought maybe we could talk in private.?
?Call me Josef. You want a drink? You like my ladies? Your eyes keep going to my ladies.?
?I feel like I?m at the public pool here.?
?Tell me what you want. You had a long trip out. Maybe you want to relax in one of my cottages back there. See the Negro girl down at the shallow end? She?s starting her movie career. Want to meet her??
?I didn?t have anything to do with killing those women you were running into the country.?
Sholokoff seemed barely able to contain his mirth. ?So you think I?m a human smuggler? And you?ve come out here to tell me you never did me any injury? Maybe you got a wire on you. You got a wire? You working for the FBI??
?Hugo Cistranos had the women killed. He used to do hits in New Orleans for Artie Rooney. I wanted to get even with Artie for some things he did to me a long time ago. I thought it was him bringing the Asian women in. I thought I was gonna put them to work for me. I came to these kinds of conclusions because I was a dumb fuck who should have stayed in the restaurant and nightclub business. I don?t want my family hurt. I don?t care what y?all do to me. I?m getting a crick in my neck looking up at you here.?
?Get him a chair,? Sholokoff said. ?Bring me the artwork, too.?
One of the cardplayers brought a white-painted iron chair from the lawn for Nick to sit in; another went inside the house and returned with a manila folder in his hand.
Sholokoff opened the folder on his lap and sorted through several eight-by-ten photos, glancing at each of them appraisingly, the grin never leaving his face.
?These guys aren?t Russians?? Nick asked, nodding at the cardplayers.
?If they were Russian, my little Jewish friend, they would eat you alive, toenails and all.?
?How do you know I?m Jewish??
?We know everything about you. Your family name was Dolinski. Here, look,? Sholokoff said. He tossed the folder into Nick?s lap.
The photos spilled out in Nick?s hands: his son, Jesse, entering the San Antonio public library, the twin girls crossing a busy street, Esther unloading groceries in the driveway.
?Your wife?s family came from the southern Siberian plain?? Sholokoff said.
?Who took these pictures??
?They say Siberian women rule their men. Is that true??
?You leave my family out of this.?
Sholokoff propped his elbows on the arms of the chair, elevating his shoulders up around his neck, his face still split with a grin. ?I got a deal for you. And if you don?t like it, I got maybe one other deal. But there?s not many deals on the table for you. Think real hard about your choices, Mr. Dolinski.?
?I came here to tell you the truth. Everyone says you?re a good businessman, the best at marketing the product you?re in. A good businessman wants facts. He doesn?t want bullshit. That?s what Artie Rooney and Hugo Cistranos sell, one hundred percent bullshit. You don?t want the facts about those women, I?m out of here.?
?You said you wanted to get even with Arthur Rooney. What did Arthur Rooney do to you??
Nick glanced sideways at the cardplayers and at the women floating on cushions in the pool or lying on beach chairs. ?When we were kids, him and his friends did a swirlie on me at the movie theater.?
?Explain this ?swirlie? to me.?
?They used my face to scrub out the toilet bowl. It was full of piss when they did it.?
Sholokoff?s laughter caused a convulsion in his cheek muscles that was like rictus in a corpse. He held a stiffened hand to his mouth to make it stop. Then his men started laughing, too. ?You were paying back a guy because he washed your hair in piss? Now you?re in Phoenix bringing Josef a great truth about the operation of his business. I am in awe of you. You are what they call a great captain of industry. Now here are the deals for you, Mr. Dolinski. You ready?
?You can give Josef your restaurant and your vacation house on the river. Then Arthur Rooney and Hugo won?t be doing swirlies on your head anymore. Or you can take the second deal. This one is more interesting, one I like a lot more. Your wife has all the marks of a Siberian woman, a strong face and big tits and a broad ass. But I got to try her out first. Can you fly her out here??
The men at the card table did not look up from their game but laughed under their breath. The hot wind blowing across the face of the mountain rustled the palm and bottlebrush trees and scattered bits of leaves on the surface of the pool. The women?s bodies looked as hard and sleek as those of seals.
Nick stood up from the chair. His feet were sweaty and felt like mush inside his socks. ?I met some of your whores when I was running an escort service in Houston. They talked about you a lot. They kept using words like ?rodent? or ?ferret.? But they weren?t just talking about your face. They said your dick looked like a thumbtack. They said that was how come you got into porn. You got secret desires to be a human tampon.?
Sholokoff began laughing again, but much more quietly and not nearly as convincingly. One of his eyes seemed frozen in place, as though a separate and ugly thought were hidden in it.