Strip for Violence | Page 2

hand as he said, "Great dance. Always
try to give my employees the best, a fair shake. Say, this cop you have
here, haven't I seen him in the ring?"
"Where else could he get that face?" I asked. "Name's Bobo Martinez.
Used to weigh in at 175 pounds--nine years ago."
A flabby smile lit up his face. "Sure! Knew I'd seen him. The Puerto
Rican flash who gave the champ a great battle. Licking the champ, too,
till he was tagged in the guts in the eighth, or maybe it was the ninth

round. Yeah, remember that fight, had to buy a dozen seats for some
buyers and cost me..."
I took Eddie's arm. "Excuse us for a second, got some business talk
with Mr. Logan."
"Sure," the fat guy boomed, like a king granting a favor.
Once in his office Eddie said, "Damn, that windbag's been hitting my
eardrums all night. Want a shot?"
"Too late." I'm always suspicious of a dance-hall owner's
whisky--probably a combination of all the bottle heels left after every
dance. Eddie poured himself a big hooker, took out his wallet and gave
me fifteen bucks, asked, "Thought you was going to have two men here
tonight?"
"Bobo can handle anything comes up in these Sunday night affairs," I
said, writing a receipt on the back of one of my cards. "Saving you
dough, two guards cost you twenty-four dollars and..."
Eddie mumbled, "Save me hell. Just want to give that spick a bigger
cut."
"Don't ever call Bobo a 'spick,' he'll take you apart," I said, wanting to
sock him myself, but wanting his business more. "I'll have three men
here for the Friday night dance, three for Saturday, and one for that
Sunday tea shindig. Okay?"
Eddie said okay and we went out into the lobby. The babe in the chair
was still feeling no pain but her boy friend was cursing and banging her
head against the back of the chair. I went over, told him, "Easy, buddy,
that's no punching bag you're handling."
"No, it's a drunken bag. Goddamit, Louise, wake up!" He grabbed her
over-red hair and started banging her noggin again. I held his hand--by
the thumb--and he looked down at me, asked, his voice almost a whine,
"Who the hell are you? This is my girl, so scram."

The last button on his silk vest was inviting me to smack it, but I didn't
want him to puke all over the place. Eddie was saying, "Now we don't
want no trouble, mister, just..." when Bobo came up. Shoving his ugly
kisser in front of the guy's face, Bobo asked softly, "What's the matter,
chum?"
As usual, the sight of Bobo's tough pan took all the fight out of the guy.
"My girl, Louise," he said, "soaked up too much. I can't get her to..."
"Come with me," Eddie said. "We'll get some smelling salts, bring her
around."
As they walked away, Bobo yawned and I gave him eight bucks, which
was a good cut since I also supplied the uniform. "Drop in the office
tomorrow. Got a construction job. How's the wife?"
Bobo shrugged his heavy shoulders. "Worked couple days in a dress
factory, was beat. Wished to Christ I could get me a steady job."
"This construction job is good for at least a week," I said, wondering
why Bobo never fought the champ a return match, which would have
meant half a million dollar gate.
Bobo yawned again. "Chisler comes around to see me yesterday. Says
if I return to the ring..."
"Forget it, you're thirty-four, way past your prime. Won't do your wife
any good if you're in the nut house."
"But a few fights mean a grand or... Sure, you're right, Hal." He turned
and abruptly walked away.
I was tracing Louise's real eyebrows, glancing now and then at the gray
lace bra strap, when her boyfriend returned with a wet napkin which he
held under her nose. She moved her head, pushed his hand away, and
he suddenly said, "Damn you, Louise!" and punched her in the eye. Her
head snapped back, she opened her eyes for a moment, sighed, and
blacked out again.

As he started to follow through with another wallop, I grabbed him by
the back of the collar and the seat of his pants--yanking the pants tight
around his groin, said, "On your way, socker," and rushed him toward
the door. Bobo took him from there, growling, "No funny stuff or I'll
beat the slop out of you!" He had that growl down perfect.
Eddie came over, pointed to the gal. "What we going to do with this
study in still life?"
To make him happy I said, "Okay, I'll take her home. Opening her
white evening bag, I found the