Ladies' Night by Jack Ketchum Page B

about and would not need where she was going was the end of it.
    Jesus, he hoped not.
    He watched the door close behind her. Through the window he could see her ascend the stairs.
    Maybe not , he thought. Drunks were full of drama.
    He saw that Cindy was watching her too, very closely. Her eyes were distant.
    He heard a loud shriek of laughter from one of the tables behind him. He turned.
    In a corner to the back of the room a woman was standing — she was one of a party of four — shaking with laughter. She had just poured her drink down the shirt of the small balding man in tie and jacket beside her, probably her date. The other tables had noticed and the laughter was loud and general. Even Erica, their table's waitress, stood there laughing.
    The man stood up to shake the ice cubes off him, his bald head red and gleaming.
    He wasn't smiling.

The Boot's Last Purse

    The Boot and Jimmy Diamond stood across the street two doors down in front of the barber shop and watched the woman leave MacInery's .
    They watched her weave past the cleaners, bobbing her head like a chicken, tits sliding every which way under the faded red t-shirt, purse dangling loosely from her hand. Boot had to laugh. She was exactly what they needed. A real stone alky they had here.
    They waited till she got to the corner and disappeared down Riverside. Then they crossed the street and started after her.
    The lady was barely conscious. Boot had his blade ready inside the jacket pocket but that was just a precaution. This was gonna be easy.
    They picked up the pace. No sense her getting home before they reached her. You grab a purse, that was one thing. She opens her door, that's B&E, and there was no point upping the stakes for the same damn take. From the look of her she wouldn't be carrying much. But she'd been to a bar. And bars cost money.
    It was dark on Riverside. Streetlights out in a couple of places, thank you New York City. They hung tight to the shadows and closed the distance. Boot had a look around. The street was empty. A new Mercedes glided by and passed them. He gave the nod.
    They broke into a run.
    Streetside , Boot went for the purse strap while Jimmy Diamond came up directly behind her and they had this down, man, really down, because the moment Boot touched the strap Jimmy would push her in the gutter, they had done it a hundred times by now, best team in the city . And it happened just the way they played it. Boot hit the strap and Jimmy Diamond slapped her back hard with the palms of both hands and stepped away.
    Only she didn't go down.
    Drunks fell down. Women, you could push them.
    But this one just stuck out her fucking leg to brace against the impact and at the same time whirled so fast he'd never have believed it in a million years, whirled on Jimmy Diamond and got hold of his arm.
    And then she sort of pulled herself onto him .
    Crawled onto him like some sort of bug — only fast, real fast, looking like maybe a spider would look to you if you were another bug and about to be eaten.
    You could see Jimmy's face go grey, even though it was dark, even though it happened in just a second. She had him belly-to-belly with her legs wrapped around him like she was going to fuck the sonovabitch , like she wanted to fuck him, hips moving against him like that and it was grotesque, man, it was almost funny for a moment until the one hand came off his shoulders while the other tightened around his neck and Jimmy pulled back because he could see where that free hand was going but there was nothing he could do about it, the hand clawed across his eyes and Boot blinked his own eyes watching it, he could almost feel the pain himself and when the blink was over so were Jimmy's eyes.
    There was blood pouring down his face. Boot screamed. They both screamed.
    And the woman let Jimmy go then and turned to Boot.
    He'd never moved so fast in his fucking life. Because there was nothing in that face you’d recognize as human. Well,