Heaven, INC: Chapter 29: MICK AND THE FIGHTING STRIPPER

The surest way of making a dupe
Is to let your victim suppose you are his.
—EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON

116½ CEDAR STREET,
GOLDEN HILLS
11:16 A.M. PDT

MICK KNOCKED ONCE before trying the door and finding it unlocked. Upon opening it, he discovered not Anka but a brunette he recognized from the Kiss-N-Tails, the one Tonya referred to as the Nazi Bitch but now without her trademark platinum blonde hair. Heidi. Heidi looked highly surprised to say the least.

“Where’s Anka?”

Heidi shook her head. “Dancing in Las Vegas. She returns on Sunday. Come back again.” When she tried pushing him out the door, Mick instead pushed his way into the little house anyway and she suddenly took off down the hallway and into the bedroom. Diving onto the bed and reaching for a gun on the night stand, she nearly got up before Mick knocked it out of her hand.

She fought him then, like a wild animal, thrashing, biting and even trying to poke Mick’s eyes out, but never once did she scream aloud. When she finally relaxed, Mick noticed a dark bruise on her cheek and scratches over the eye that looked fresh. Still, she was drop-dead gorgeous and her tight athletic body felt great.

“Get off me, you pig.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Heidi glared up at him. “Get off me now or I will bite off your nose.”

Mick smiled. “Say the magic word.”

Heidi glared a moment longer. “Get off me or I will bite off your fucking nose. Please.”

Mick let his body settle onto Heidi’s a little longer, liking the feel of her tight little figure, before getting to his feet to pick up the sleek little foreign job he’d slapped from her hand. He let his eyes sweep the room, everywhere silk and velvet, as Mona crawled across the bed to the other night stand and a strange pack of cigarettes. “Mij know you here?”

Heidi lit a cigarette while studying him. “He went to keep watch on Anka in Las Vegas,” she finally said. “Anka asked me to look after her fish. So I am here.”

There was a Beta-bowl on the headboard. The fish was floating on top. “He’s dead.”

Heidi shrugged. “I couldn’t find the fish food.”

Mick nodded at the TetraFin. “It’s on the headboard.”

Heidi exhaled an exasperated puff of smoke. “You come here to talk about fish? Because I have to get ready. One of my regulars is waiting for me.”

Mick said, “Don’t worry, sis, he’ll wait for you. Fact, you can go soon as I find what I’m looking for. A tape. You know, video tape?”

Heidi raised a dubious eyebrow behind cigarette smoke. “Video tape. How, how you say, quaint?”

“Yeah, old school. Maybe Anka told you where it was stashed. You help me, there’s a thousand in it for you.”

Heidi took a deep drag on her cigarette. “I know of no tape.”

Mick got a good whiff of the cigarette and the shit was awful. “The hell kind of cigarette you smoking?”

“Is Russian— Anka’s, not mine.” Heidi took a deep drag, exhaling luxuriously, she glanced at the bedside clock before quickly stubbing out the cigarette. “Okay, look for tape, but I must get ready. Why not start here in the bedroom so you can go through Anka’s panties. I think they in that table there,” she said, pointing ruby red nails at the end table. “Maybe her vibrators, too.”

Mick decided to start in the kitchen because he wanted a glass of water and because he wasn’t gonna start in the first place pointed out, panties or not; besides, nothing could be more comprehensive than Tonya’s dildo collection. He started by poking around at the computer desk in a corner of the kitchen among the credit card bills, a notepad with the picture of a real-estate agent— DON NEWCOMBE SELLS SAN DIEGO! Mick shifted to the cupboards filled with exotic and unopened condiments and baroque-style crockery you won’t find at Target. In the fridge was nothing but a tin of caviar, an unopened jar of pickles and a carton of cigarettes labeled Беиомор анаи, three packs missing. In the freezer, two bottles of exotic vodka.

Down the hallway, the bathroom door opened. He raised Heidi’s pistol, ready if she tried coming around the corner with a knife or another gun. Nothing. Then the sound of the bathroom door closing again.
Mick returned to the bedroom and immediately notice the night-stand that supposedly contained Anka’s panties was pulled slightly away from the wall and it was on the back of this that Mick found a little slot that would fit a VHS tape nicely. But no tape.

Mick returned to the bathroom door just in time to hear the squeaking sound of a wooden window. Mick put his head to the door. Inside, the window squeaked again softly.

Suddenly, the door opened to Heidi brushing her hair with a silver comb. She glanced over Mick’s shoulder and into the bedroom, then back at Mick. “You found what you were looking for? Or maybe you want to steal my panties, too?” She peeled off her underwear and held them in Mick’s face all in one smooth motion, the black t-string swinging like a hypnotist’s watch. “I masturbated before you arrived. Enjoy.”

The hypnotist’s face was high cheekbones and violet eyes framed by thick raven hair.

“Maybe another time. I gotta go.”

Heidi looked puzzled. “You found what you are looking for?”

Mick smiled. “No. But I think I’m about to.”


MICK CLIMBED INTO THE RANGE ROVER with an even bigger smile. The tape had been in the birds of paradise where it fell from the window, little dirt on the case, but really no worse for the wear.

Mick grinned himself, thinking how the Nazi Bitch tried getting slick on him, dump the tape out the window where he wouldn’t find it— except she hadn’t bargained on Mick’s musician ears.

Mick rolling down the street and thinking about Mona’s amazing eyes, way she held herself, confident even with her game exposed, when an unknown number appeared on Mick’s cell.

Bivo, sounding extra hot, saying, “That fucking guy, get me that fucking guy.”

“What guy?”

“That fucking Jimmy Francisco guy! I kill him!”

“What?”

“Fuck what. You find a payphone and you call the next number and I tell you what happens to carpet cleaners who fuck with Bivo Papacostas.”