Fat Tuesday(26)

Local law enforcement had an understanding with Ruby. She was allowed to run her business without any interference, except where drug trafficking was involved.

Occasionally one or more of Ruby's girls saw a way to make a little extra cash on the side while promising a client heightened sensitivity and staying power with the help of a controlled substance. Ruby didn't like the temporary interruption in business that a raid created, but she liked even less the prospect of being permanently shut down if one of her well-heeled clients died of asphyxiation or heart attack while in the throes of ecstasy. Nor was she too keen on her girls having an enterprise of which she got no percentage. So she regarded the occasional raid as a necessary evil and remained on good terms with the authorities.

Burke had been to the house twice in the line of duty. Naked men, clutching their three-piece business suits and Rolexes, were pulled from the luxurious beds and shaken down with no more deference than hollow-eyed junkies who begged for coins around Jackson Square. If one of Ruby's customers was caught using drugs to spike his sex, Burke didn't have any compunction about arresting him no matter how wealthy he was or which public office he held.

The door was answered by a bouncer who greeted Burke with a suspicious scowl."Please tell Miss Bouchereaux that Burke Basile would like to see her."

"Aren't you a cop?"

"You got something to hide?"

He closed the door in Burke's face and left him standing on the threshold for five full minutes before reappearing."She'll see you," he said, sounding none too pleased about it.

He led Burke to an office that could have belonged to any hardworking, overachieving executive who delegated little and insisted on exercising absolute control over everything. It was equipped with a multiline telephone, two fax machines, and a computer. Prostitution had gone high-tech.

The woman seated behind the desk motioned him into a chair."This is an unexpected pleasure, Lieutenant Basile."

"Thank you for seeing me without an appointment."

She offered him something to drink, which he declined. After dismissing the bouncer, she said, "I hope you've come to establish a line of credit with us. My girls will be thrilled. Your rugged good looks, especially that attractive mustache, haven't gone unnoticed whenever you've graced us with your presence, even if it was to carry out your unpleasant duty."

She was a diminutive woman, no more than five feet tall, with platinum hair that was said to be natural. Her skin, it appeared, had never been exposed to sunlight, because it was as white and smooth as a gardenia blossom. Rumor had it that she had undergone a facelift without anesthesia so that she could oversee the surgeon's work and make certain he was acting on her precise instructions. But the story was a little too far-fetched to be believed, even for Ruby Bouchereaux, about whom rumors abounded. In any event, she was stunning.

Since he entered the office, her lavender eyes hadn't wavered from his.

She was old enough to be his mother, and he knew her art of flirtation had been perfected over years of practice. Nevertheless, he felt himself blush at her compliment.

"I'm afraid I can't afford your services."

"We've made allowances for other city officials." Eyeing him with interest, she toyed with the strand of pearls around her neck.

"I'd be pleased to discuss several discount options with you."

He smiled, but shook his head."Sorry, no. But I appreciate the offer."

Her lips formed a rueful pout."The girls will be.disappointed.

And so am I." Then, folding her small hands together on top of her desk, she inquired why he had come to see her.

"Pinkie Duvall."

The change in her expression was so subtle, only someone with Burke's experience in gauging people's reactions could have detected it.

"What about him?"

"You two were partners in a club down in the Quarter before you had a falling out a couple years back."

"That's correct."

"What happened?"

"Off the record?"

"Entirely."

"Pinkie wanted one of my girls to come dance in the club. She wasn't interested, and politely turned him down. Shortly after that, Wayne Bardo paid us a visit and requested this girl. After an hour with him, she couldn't even walk, much less dance."

"Bardo was sent by Duvall to teach her a lesson." When Ruby agreed with a slight inclination of her head, he asked if he could please speak to the girl.

"I'm afraid not, lieutenant. Two days after her session with Bardo, she took a razor to her wrists. She didn't believe that her face would ever look the same, and, frankly, neither did any of the doctors we consulted. She was a gorgeous girl. Mr. Bardo ruined her not only for this profession, but for any other where meeting the public is required."

"I don't suppose you reported this to the police." "A whore getting assaulted in a whorehouse?" she said with a harsh laugh."How sympathetic do you think the authorities would be? I couldn't prove that the assault had taken place here, or that Bardo was the culprit, or that he was carrying out Pinkie Duvall's directive.

"Besides, it would have been bad for business. I don't advertise our mistakes and misfortunes. Anytime a girl goes into a room alone with a man, she runs the risk of being hurt. I and my staff do everything to prevent that sort of thing from happening, but we can't be in the rooms to guarantee that it won't. It's a hazard of the profession."