Rough Cut Ch. 06

According to Jonas, Rolf Metzger was known as The Butcher. He had few loyalties and could be bought by anyone with enough capital. Most nights Rolf could be found at Apollonia’s, a notch-house on the dirty end of Vine Street. Moe had never been to this particular brothel, but he figured it the same as most: worn out whores hiding years of damage with heavy paste and bad lighting. Not that Moe gave a rat’s ass - knowing the pickings didn’t keep him from partaking on occasion.

Metzger’s main gig was playing the muscle at Apollonia’s. He kept the second-hand Sues on their backs and the tricks paying. Metzger wasn’t afraid to use whatever was handy to accomplish that goal. And his shiv was always handy.

Apollonia’s was like most of the chippy houses in Cincy - you could only find them if you already knew they were there. Backdoor entrances were the norm, with an extra exit or two on each of the other sides. Most had been juice joints in the twenties - speakeasies that lost their trade with the end of Prohibition. People seemed to like the underground aspect, so natural evolution had turned the joints into hump houses.

Mid-afternoon was usually a down period, so it gave Moe plenty of time to snoop around, maybe find out more about Metzger before a face-to-face. Thanks to the payroll from Dutch, Moe had plenty of cash to encourage a canary to sing, and if spearing her clam became part of the agenda, he wouldn’t complain.

When he pushed open the door, a bell chimed. The foyer was clean but cramped. Two settees of glossy wood and pastel-colored chintz lined either side of the narrow space. A second door, further back, was closed. Standing in the foyer was a peach - a brunette with painted eyes and pouty lips. But a man’s eyes weren’t drawn to her face so much as the knockers that barely fit in her flimsy nightie. She shivered with the cool breeze let in from the outside, and her nipples perked up like ripe raspberries.

“May I help you, sir?” She spoke briskly and held the flaps of her shiny robe, but she didn’t bother to close it.

Moe deliberately skimmed her entire frame before looking back into her whiskey eyes. “I’m depending on it.”

She turned soft with Moe’s perusal and let go of her robe. She used her hands instead to outline her hourglass shape. “Something special you’re after?”

“I hear a man can get a little half-and-half here without it being up for scrutiny.”

“So this your first time?”

“Yeah, doll. I’m a virgin.”

She giggled a high pitch sound that reminded Moe of the door chime.

“Well, Sugar. I’m a good teacher, but I doubt you need many lessons.”

“How much?”

She eased back and folded her arms across her chest. It forced her two fleshy globes together and deepened her cleavage to below sea level. “You a copper?”

“Not a chance.”

“You smell like one.”

Moe dug in his pocket and flashed a fat roll before stuffing it back in his pockets. “And you smell like roses and heaven, doll.”

She smiled. Her hands fell to her hips and her robe pulled apart like matinee curtains. “Okay, honey. What do you like?”

“Besides you?”

She giggled again in that high-trilling way that only movie sopranos do. “I’m waiting for a special friend. But if you want to come back in, say, an hour?”

“I’m not a patient man, doll.”

She sighed and absently ran a finger along her well-defined cleavage. “Hold on, I’ll get Lily Mae.”

“Is she like you?”

“Honey, there’s no one like me,” she said it with a wink. “But she’ll do for an impatient man.”

She left, leaving Moe alone in the closed off foyer. He looked around, but there wasn’t much to see. The action took place behind the oak door she had disappeared through.

Minutes later the door opened. A different brunette entered, this one with coltish eyes. She was dressed in the same fashion as the first gal, but this one filled her nightie a little differently - less tits, less hourglass, and less bravado.

“Lily Mae?”

“Uh-huh. You looking for something special this afternoon, Mister?”

“Call me Moe.”

“Moe.” Her voice was soft, kittenish.

“Yeah, I’m all pent up and itching for a little release.” It wasn’t entirely true. Moe was still battling with the aches in his gut, but Katarina’s peep show proved Moe was up to playing the part.

“This way.”

Moe followed her into a long corridor with walls papered in dark damask. There were eight doors, four on each side, all but one closed. Lily Mae led him to the one that was open. He stepped inside. The room was an interior room with no windows. It was small but as spit-shined as the rest of the brothel. A small bed with a white chenille coverlet was tucked in the corner. A flickering lantern sat on a table next to the bed. And a high-back chair was propped in the corner opposite the bed.

Lily Mae closed the door behind them and stood with her hands held behind her back, still holding the doorknob.

“Apollonia said you had cash.”

“Apollonia? The dame at the door?”

“That’s her.”

Moe figured he’d caught a lucky break. He doubted the madam of the joint would have given up much on Metzger, seeing as she probably paid his salary.

“I got cash if you’re the right dame.”

Lily Mae was shorter than Apollonia and younger. Her robe hung loosely without getting caught on flaring hips and ended at the top of a great-looking pair of gams. She had a heart-shaped face that hinted at dimples if she would smile. “I can be anything you want me to be,” she said. Her words were bolder than her actions. She stared at the floor with her hands still clasped behind her back.

“How long have you been here, Lily Mae?”

“I’m older than I look.”

“Yeah, how old?”

“Old enough.”

“A pup.”

“Hardly.” She laughed and moved away from the door. She pushed her robe off her shoulders and let it puddle at her feet. When she turned to face Moe, the light from the lantern added depth to her eyes. And years.

“Come here, Moe. Help me get bare.” She was a more confident Lily Mae when it came to her trade. “And let me help you too,” she added.

Moe moved closer. Close enough to smell that Lily Mae didn’t wear rosewater like Apollonia did. Lily Mae had one of those spring smells, like lilac or honeysuckle.

She tugged on the tails of Moe’s shirt and pulled them from his trousers. She moved to the buttons and started yanking at the buttonholes. Moe held her hand.

“No need to rush Lily Mae.”

She shrugged. “You do know how this works, don’t you?’

“How?”

“Ten bucks for half an hour. Twenty for the whole sixty minutes.”

“I got time. I got cash. How about you?”

She stared up at him with her coltish eyes. “I got whatever you got cash for.”

Moe reached in his pocket and pulled out five sawbucks. “Will this square us?”

“Two and a half hours worth?’ Lily Mae fingered the bills, brought them to her nose, closed her eyes, and inhaled. When her eyes sprung open she looked at Moe. “You got a slow pecker or something?”

“Maybe I like a little chatter.”

“Jiminy! You’re not one ofthose freaks, are you?” Whores were the only dames in the world that thought chitchatting was weird.

“Okay, Lily Mae. You want to fuck? Fine.” Moe grabbed her and jerked the last slip of material off over her head. She stood perfectly still, and he thought he’d scared her until he looked at her face. She was grinning for the first time since he’d met her.

“So, Lily Mae, you do know how to smile.”

“So, Moe, you do have fire to go with those rugged looks.”

She smirked and reached again for the buttons on his shirt. This time she sneaked from one to the next. Button by button. Until the last one gave way. She shoved his shirt down off his shoulders and moved to his belt, slowly loosening it.

As she bent to slide his pants down, Moe glanced at the walls of the room. Too many of these creep joints had secret panels that could open while a man was too busy to notice. Someone would enter, empty a man’s pockets, and leave without the sucker suspecting a thing. To be on the safe side, Moe kicked his trousers under the bed.

Lily Mae continued working her way around Moe’s body. Moe stopped her when she went for his undershirt. No need to share his Frankenstein torso. She just shrugged her shoulders and moved on. Moe willingly helped her get rid of his drawers and when they did, his cock bobbled free, semi-erect.

“Nothing weird about your pipe, Moe.”

“I get no complaints.”

Lily Mae pulled back the coverlet on the bed, sat herself in the middle, and let her legs fall open. Her pubic hair lined up against the bed linen - coffee brown against crisp white. Her plump nipples were rouged to a fiery red.

“See anything you like, honey?”

“Plenty, doll. Plenty.”

She opened herself further, pressing through her pubic hair, and fingering deep between her fiery inner lips. Lips the same color as her nipples. First with one finger, then two, She dug deep and then slipped out again. She finger-tipped to her clitoris, rubbing tiny circles over its head. She dipped inside again, wiggling her fingers to a squishy tune. When she pulled them out, she made a creamy trail up her belly as she dragged her fingers upward.

Moe bent over her and followed her path with his tongue, licking her jism from her soft belly to her rouged nipple. He kissed her nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting while she writhed under him.

“Mmm, Moe. You do have fire,” she said.

He licked the valley between her tits and continued to her other breast. To his surprise, where he expected to find a nipple, he found only puckered titflesh. The rouge had done a good job of camouflaging the mangled nub.

“What happened here, Lily Mae?”

“Ignore it, please.”

It was easy to forget when her warm hand surrounded Moe’s cock and stroked him hard. But he pushed her hand away and dragged her hips to the edge of the bed. He wanted to feel hot pussy stretching around him. He lifted her feet to his shoulders and lined his cock to her slit. He jabbed between her folds, searching for her hole. When he found it, he shoved hard, burying himself as much as would fit.

Lily Mae bucked her hips and dug her heels into Moe’s shoulders. All the while she squeezed him tight. Again and again. Milking his pecker and pulling it further into her depths. He grabbed her legs, pushed them together, and held them close to his chest. Her ass snuggled close to his balls.

And then he fucked her. In and out. Hard and slow. Shallow and deep. The stitches in his gut pulled and burned, but he refused to stop until her pussy quivered around his cock and he’d pumped the last of his gravy into her.

Moe was breathing like a locomotive. He let go of Lily Mae and slumped to the bed beside her, exhausted and sweaty.

“You okay, Moe?”

“Give me a minute.”

Lily Mae bounced off the bed and grabbed a pitcher from inside a bowl on the table. “I’ll be right back.” She left the room naked with Moe’s sticky semen between her legs.

Moe lifted his undershirt and did a once over on his stitches. A small amount of blood seeped at a spot near his navel. But the rest of the jagged line seemed pretty jake. Sweat trickled between his pecs, and Moe mopped at the sweat and the blood with his undershirt. His breathing had settled down, but his legs were gelatin.

Lily Mae returned with a rag thrown over her shoulder and a full pitcher of water. She poured the water into the bowl, dipped the rag, and then turned to Moe.

“Let me clean you up.” She sat down and she got a look at Moe’s undershirt. “Oh, jiminy! You’re bleeding”

“It’s nothing, doll.”

“Let me see.”

Moe wasn’t in the mood to fight over it, so he let her raise his shirt. Lily Mae drew back, cringing at the criss-crossed lines of sewn together flesh, but then righted herself. “So that’s what you’re hiding.”

“Hiding? Nah, I’m just not ready to display it like a trophy.”

“What the hell are you doing here with something like that still percolating?”

“Looking for the carver who did it.”

Lily Mae gasped. Her hand flew to her left breast and she jumped from the bed. A mask of true fear settled over her face, and she began to pace. “You gotta get out of here.”

“I see you recognize the handiwork. Metzger?”

She nodded. “He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us both if he finds you here.”

“Why?”

Lily Mae paced, wringing her hands. Gooseflesh had popped up on her skin. She jammed on her robe and pulled it tight around her body. “Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter who you are, or why he sliced you. He won’t like it that you’re walking around. You’re a reminder that he failed.”

“Tell me about him.”

“He’s bad.”

Moe grunted with the understatement. “Tell me. Maybe start with your nipple.”

Lily Mae talked, her nervousness a real motivator. Moe gathered his clothes and dressed while she continued to pace and spill her guts. Metzger had sliced off her nipple because she’d tried to hoard money he said belonged to him. He’d tied her to the bed and fucked her up the old brown road. And when she thought he had finished he whipped out his blade, pinched her nipple to a hard bud, and with one cut, sliced it off, his cock still crowding her backdoor.

Lily Mae sat down in the chair, trembling with the telling. “He’ll kill me.”

“He’s got no reason to know I was here with you.”

She huddled herself into a ball. “He’ll find out. He always does.”

“I’m a john. In and out. You’ve got your pay. What’s for him to know?” Moe walked around the room, tapping on the walls. All of them thudded solid. “Doesn’t feel like there’s a feeble wall here.”

“No, not this room. We never stiff a guy on his first visit.”

“Is Metzger here?”

“No, or at least he wasn’t. He usually shows up later when traffic picks up.”

“Then he knows from nothing. You don’t even have a name for me.”

Lily Mae unballed and let her legs relax. “That’s true, except for Moe. Unless—did Appollonia get your name?”

“Not unless you gave it to her.”

“No, I didn’t. If you leave now...”

“I’m not leaving til I got the whole scoop, sister.”

“I don’t know what else I can tell you.”

“Think of something.”

“You don’t understand what kind of monster he is.” She sprang from her chair and stood wild-eyed in front of Moe. “Do you want to know what he did with my nipple after he sliced it off? He ate it! He ate it, and then he...he slurped up the blood. And that wasn’t even the worst of it.” Her face had caught the panic her eyes were dishing out. “The worst of it...” Her eyes went dark and distant. “...that was when he had his climax.”

She had a better sob story than most, and Moe wasn’t immune, but he still had business to take care of. “I imagine you’ll want me out of here as quick as possible, doll. So you’d better start chatting.”

Lily Mae’s flowery smell had faded. Fear had raised her hackles a lot more than the sex. She was edgy and spoke quickly in short, choppy sentences, but she filled Moe in on what she knew: Apollonia and Metzger were related. Cousins, she thought. Apollonia owned the cathouse. Metzger was in charge of “security.” For the most part, things ran smooth. The chicks were expected to stay clean and have regular checkups with a doctor. Everything was fine as long you passed your physical and turned over your grand a week. But if anything went wrong, Apollonia called Metzger in to make it right.

“If things are so tough, why do you stick around?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Do you think it’s different any place else? I eat what I want. Wear what I want. And I don’t have to worry about sleeping on the streets.”

Moe knew she was right. The life of a quiff was anything but glamorous. Most of these joints had muscle, buzzards with no qualms about using fists to keep the ladies in line. And a lot of the places weren’t nearly as clean as Apollonia’s.

“How about Metzger’s other associates?”

“If he’s got any, I don’t know them. He works alone as far I can tell.”

Moe figured it was all she had. Lily Mae had balled herself up in the chair again, her arms hugging her legs like long-lost friends. He needed a bite of air. Besides, Moe didn’t want Lily Mae on his conscience if Metzger found out about his visit. But he needed just one more bit of info before he could leave Lily Mae in peace. Moe spoke as he knotted his tie.

“One last thing, doll, and I’ll go. What’s he look like?”

* * *

Moe stepped out into the late afternoon sun. The lack of windows in Lily Mae’s room had almost made him forget it was daytime. The walk to his car was a short one, but he felt like he was walking on jigglesticks. The sex had been brief but still enough to drain him. Would he ever quit feeling like a newborn?

Moe turned the corner and nearly bumped shoulders with him, and that’s when he realized how dead on Lily Mae’s description had been: short, wiry, with small eyes and skin like a sheen of spoiled grease. And a scar - a scar that started at his right eye and did a half moon curve over his cheek before ending at his thin upper lip.

Rolf Metzger was one ugly mutt.