Secret Isaac Read Online Free PDF Page B

Kathleen. A tough Irish lady who had married him before he was twenty. The wife was in real estate. She developed swamps in Florida, had ten suitors and a million in the bank, and she didn’t need a cop who liked to go around in bum’s pants. He saw her once or twice a year. They made love if Kathleen was in the mood. It was more of a friendly hug than anything else. Now he had to deal with Mrs. Pears.
    â€œI didn’t mean to blunder into your class … I’m sorry … it’s just that I was interested in what you had to say … can you come to dinner tomorrow night?”
    â€œYour husband’s too tough for me, Mrs. Pears.”
    â€œI’m Jennifer,” she said. “Jenny … Mel likes you … don’t mind his scowls … he has to practice making faces to satisfy all the juries … he’s much nicer at home.”

6
    H E expected Rebecca Karp to come out of the closet and eat off his neck with the hors d’oeuvres. It was only a party of three: Pears, his wife, and Isaac Sidel. Jennifer hadn’t been wrong. Melvin wasn’t the lawyer at home. He offered Isaac sucks from his hash pipe. The First Dep smoked with Mr. and Mrs. Pears. Why not? He was fifty-one. He ought to have a taste of hashish before he died. It didn’t offend the worm, and it warmed Isaac’s head. But he couldn’t let go of the cop in him. “Mel, did you ever hear of an ex-law student named Dermott Bride?… went to Yale.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” Pears said, and they all took sucks from the pipe. “I couldn’t scribble a brief without some hash in me,” he said. “I always work better when I’m stoned.”
    Isaac didn’t see a nudge of affection between husband and wife. Their bodies seemed to exist in some kind of neutral sphere. It’s the hash, Isaac figured. They probably fuck three times a day. Mel had the grace not to mention Rebecca Karp. And Isaac didn’t talk about the Mayor. A little sleepy boy came out of one of the rooms. He wore fireman’s pajamas. He ran to his father. “Alex, say hello to Isaac.”
    He shook hands with Alexander Pears, who had his father’s mouth and his mother’s green eyes.
    â€œIsaac’s a policeman … smarter than Dick Tracy.”
    Alexander was four and a half. He kissed his father and went to bed. He couldn’t stop looking at Isaac. Jennifer was in the kitchen putting whipped cream on a pie. Thank God there had been no politics tonight. Pears didn’t say a word about why the Police Commissioner ran prostitutes off the street. Isaac was the one who started to talk about hookers. He was dreaming of Annie Powell. “There are certain pimps. They get their fingers on a girl. And she’s owned for life … or until she gets ugly and has to be shipped to Nova Scotia, where anything that walks will pass as a woman.”
    He noticed Jennifer standing over him. “Sorry if that sounds cruel. But it’s a fact. You know, if a girl’s too beautiful, and her pimp is afraid of losing her, sometimes he’ll scar her face. It’s a fantasy he has … he thinks the scar devalues her in the eyes of other men. But it doesn’t always turn out that way. The scar can make her even more desirable. And the pimp will lose her anyway.”
    They had cognac and chunks of pecan pie. Melvin slumped into his chair and fell asleep. Isaac whispered with some embarrassment to Mrs. Pears. Melvin was snoring hard. Jennifer didn’t apologize. She accompanied Isaac to the door. The worm was rising in his gut. The cognac caused his bald spot to twitch. The hash must have been like a love potion to Isaac. He had Mrs. Pears against the door. That’s how he found himself. A stumbling man. His tongue was deep in her mouth while he swallowed half her face. He could still hear Melvin snore. That fucking kiss, there was no end to it. The worm