Chapter 9
Laura planned the first major crackdown of Fleet St. for the following Saturday. Always the most popular nights on the street, this was the time they could count on the most arrests-and of course, with no major news on a normal Sunday morning, they would get the greatest press coverage.
Laura had plainclothes cops in unmarked cars, regular cops for back-up and a big 82 seat police department bus. The bus would be parked five blocks away and the plan would be that the plainclothes cops would pick up the girls on the street, get enough evidence to make an arrest, then drive the five blocks to the waiting bus, where they would be held until taken down to the station. Word was out on the street that something would be going down, but nobody knew just when it would be.
Saturday night began like any other in St. Louis. The setting sun turned the arch into a golden scimitar that shone over the city. The streets were not yet as busy as they would be in a few hours when all the people from the suburbs flooded back into town for an evening's entertainment. College boys and girls would be coming to see movies, married couples would be coming to eat dinner at a fine restaurant, junkies would be looking for thier fixes, and lonely men would be driving downtown looking for love. And if love was not to be had, then straight sex would do nicely.
They would be driving down to Fleet Street. They did every Saturday night and there was no reason that this one should be any different. The married men were making excuses to their wives as to why they had to go into town on a Saturday night by themselves, the lonely men in their single apartments were brushing their hair, counting their money and hoping they had enough. Young men were nervously gathering with their rowdy buddies, wondering if they would really have the nerve to go down to Fleet Street and pick up a hooker.
And Officer Laura Davis was getting ready. Along with her partner, Sally, they were down at the police station, organizing and coordinating the plainclothes officers, briefing the regular cops and making sure the newspapers and press stayed out of the way until things were in full swing. The first arrest was scheduled to be made at 10 pm sharp. And from there on out it was open season on hookers. Laura had been contacted a number of times by various people, suggesting that everybody might be happier if she took it easy on some certain few hookers-who just happened to have a close working relationship with Ms. Desdemona Valentine.
Laura listened, she listened very well. But she made no promises. If they asked her to shut the street down, then that's exactly what she'd do-no ifs, ands, or buts. If they wanted a half-ass job, the asked the wrong lady to do it.
Elsewhere, some other people were getting ready for the night's work. Desdemona knew that things down on Fleet Street were going to get real heavy, real soon. She had Washington planned to be on the street that night in case something went down. They wented to be there when it happened. They wanted to be sure that their girls weren't hassled by mistake. They had done a lot of people a lot of favors to make sure that this very thing didn't happen. Business was too important to let a silly thing like the law get in the way.
Desdemona and Washington were sitting in her penthouse, enjoying a little Johnny Walker Red as the lights began to flick on across the St. Louis skyline.
"So what did you find out about our little Officer, Laura Davis?" asked Desdemona.
"Well," began Washington, "the bitch seems like a pretty tough cookie. I mean, she get a lot of respect down at the station-she been on some very wet (bloody) jobs and she shore held up her share of the action.
Our good fren' Officer Jim Barchin tell me that she don't plan on cuttin' our operation any slack on this crackdown. Can you believe that shit?"
"Yes, I can believe it. Do we still have Barchin by the balls?"
"Does the pope jerk off with olive oil? Shore-as long as we got those pictures of Officer Barchin with those cute little girls he gonna do anything we want him to do."
"That's good. Now tell me more about Laura Davis."
"Well, les' see. She married and, now this be pretty heavy, word I get is that her old man work for the Feds, in the CIA or some shit like that. Only thing, though, he be missin' for 6 months in Chili or some other funky place like that. So he's not in the picture.
"Now here's something I think might interest you real good. She ain't living by herself any more. She gots a niece from somewhere who moved in for a couple months and I tell ya true, this gal is a looker. I mean, if n she was workin' for us we could turn her out for just Congressmen, Senators, Ministers and Generals for nothing less than $500 a night. She's that good looking."
That information seemed to interest Desdemona a great deal. "What's the girl like, Washington? Is there a reason she's not staying at her real home-was she sent to Ms. Davis for discipline or something like that . . . was she in trouble back in her home town? How's she getting along with Ms. Davis? Any problems there?"
Washington chuckled and poured himself another drink. "No, I'm afraid from the looks of things that they ain't too much potential of gettin' this little girl to work for us-if that's what you had in mind. From everything I can find out, she's a real goody-goody. She's got no problems at home that I can find out, she's never been in trouble; seems to get along with everyone, don't take no drugs, don't drink no booze-she don't do shit. She come out here as sort of a vacation to stay with her aunt. . . . "
Desdemona was deep in thought. She just sat staring out the window, looking at the skyline, which was now enveloped with the night. "Washington, you know, in the long run-and that's the way to always look at a situation-in the long run, it may be better off for our interests that the little girl is sweet and innocent. How close is she with Ms. Davis?"
"Oh, they be real close, just about sisters, from what I can make out. They tight family. Tight."
Desdemona put her empty glass down and went to get her coat so they could leave. "That's good. Real good."
Down in front of the. apartment building, Desdemona had the doorman ring down to the garage to bring the BMW up. Desdemona put a leather briefcase into the trunk of the car. The case was filled with cash-a lot of it. This was just in case the police screwed up and arrested some of her girls she would be able to throw their bail.
As they drove off to Fleet Street, Desdemona turned to Washington, "Now, you have talked to all our girls 'bout what may go down tonight?"
"Right. They all know that one of these nights there's gonna be some heavy police action on the street. They also know that that action ain't supposed to include them. So, if n they get picked up they just supposed to tell the cop that they are one of your girls and that should take care of that."
"That's it, baby." Desdemona replied. "I did bring some cash along in case we end up having to go down to the police station and spring one of our girls. But I hope that don't happen. I pray that don't happen. 'Cause if it does, there is going to be some shit to pay around this town. I can tell you that for sure."
Desdemona turned on to Fleet Street and pulled into her usual parking place in front of "Larry's Place". They walked to their table at the back to see what the evening would bring. It was 9:30 pm.
Five blocks away, in the parking lot of the River City Savings and Loan, Laura and Sally were taking care of a few last minute details. The bus was all set up. The matrons were there to conduct the body searches before the whores were put aboard. The regular uniformed cops were there to keep order, and off to the side of the parking lot, crews from the local TV stations were reading their newscasts. They were covering it live for the ll o'clock news. Twenty plainclothes officers were also there, all in cars borrowed from a New York film company that was doing a movie on location in St. Louis. They were, of course, all unmarked cars, but more importantly, they were of all different years and models. The problem with the regular unmarked police cars is that they are exactly the same as the patrol cars, but with no lights or markings of any sort. They might be able to fool a housewife who makes a rolling stop at a corner, but to a streetwise hooker, they shout "Police!" as loudly as if they had a revolving red light on the top and a screaming siren. It was 9:45 pm and Laura sent the first four drivers out to pick up their working girls.
Out on the street the girls were out in the usual large numbers for a Saturday night. Business was pretty good, a lot of cars cruising up and down the street, a lot of action. Desdemona and Washington had grabbed a table by the front window of "Larry's" just so they could keep an eye on what was going down. So far, so good. Everything looked normal. The girls were out on the street, guys in cars were picking them up and the girls were going off to work. Business was good. Desdemona had an eye out for plainclothes officers in their very obvious unmarked cars. There didn't seem to be any; the way things were shaping up it looked like just a normal night. Better than normal, actually. It seemed like the girls were getting picked up real fast, all up and down the street.
Jimmy the Weasel came running through the front door of Larry's. He looked around and then approached the table where Desdemona and Washington were eating their meal. Jimmy was an old street hustler who hung out on Fleet Street, scrounging a buck any way he could.
"Uh, say, Miss Valentine, I, uh, got some news I think you might be interested in.. . . "
Desdemona looked at him coolly. "You do, do you? What makes you think I don't already know what you're going to tell me?"
"Well," said Jimmy, "if you did, I don't think you'd be sittin' there having a drink, no disrespect, ma'am."
Desdemona looked over at Washington, who just shrugged his shoulder. "All right," said Desdemona, "just what is this little tidbit of news going to cost me?"
"I'd say this is worth a C-note easy," said Jimmy.
"I'll give you $50 and you should consider yourself lucky at that."
"Well, I don't know. You see, this information has a time value on it-every minute you don't know about it, it costs you more money-but I'll give you a guarantee-you don't like my product, you don't have to pay."
Desdemona nodded at Washington and he reached in his coat pocket and peeled a $100 bill off a thick wad and handed it to Jimmy. They both looked at him expectantly.
Jimmy pointed out to the street. "Been a lot of business tonight, right? Only thing is, some of the girls should be back on the street now, already done with the first job-there's been more than enough time. But the girls ain't back there on the job-ain't none of them come back. They all over about half mile away in the parking lot of the River City Bank in a big police bus. It don't look like it, but most of them cars picking up the girls is cops. And they all be getting busted. . . . " Jimmy didn't have time to finish. Desdemona and Washington were out of their seats and out the front door.
Desdemona was angry, real angry. They weren't playing fair, they weren't playing by the rules. If they wanted to pick up the other girls, she didn't care-but they didn't hassle her girls. That was bad for business and was damn well going to be bad for some very important people in town. Jimmy was right. Desdemona looked up and down the street and there were about half as many girls working as there should have been.
They hopped in the BMW and sped over to the River City Bank. It was just like Jimmy had said. The bus was there and there were a lot of familiar faces staring forlornly out the windows. And the place was crawling with cops. And TV crews. Goddam! What was the world coming to?
They parked the car and walked up to the parking lot. A uniformed officer intercepted them. "I'm sorry, but you can't go any farther-this is a police operation."
"It's a police rip-off is what it is," answered Desdemona. "Who's in charge of this bad joke?"
The cop at first taken aback by Desdemona's attitude and authority, soon regained his composure. "Lady, you aren't going any closer. The person in charge of this operation is Officer Davis." He nodded towards Laura, who was supervising some of the matrons as they searched three of Desdemona's best girls.
Desdemona smiled viciously. "Would you kindly inform Officer Davis that if she has a moment to spare, Desdemona Valentine would like a word with her?"
The cop knew the name. And knew it well. "You wait here," he said, and then walked over to Laura and Sally. They talked to the officer and then all three of them walked back to where Desdemona and Washington were standing.
"May I be of some assistance to you?" said Laura, with just the slightest tinge of sarcasm.
Desdemona tried hard to conceal her anger. "Do you know who I am?" she asked.
"Yes, I do," Laura replied. "This officer was kind enough to tell me. Now if you'd please tell me how I might be of service to you-I really am very busy."
"Yeah, you can tell me just what the fuck is going on here!! ! ? ? "
"We are cleaning up Fleet Street. The prostitutes are a blight upon the moral sensibilities of our community and we are taking them off the streets and putting them in the jails where these scum belong. Any more questions?"
Desdemona was almost frothing at the mouth. "Lady," she spat out, "I gonna have your goddamn job over this. You never gonna work in this town again-doin' nothin', by the time I get through with you. You know who I am. You know I play ball with you people when you play ball with me and I don't give a shit about the other girls on this street-but I insist you let my girls go this instant!"
Laura smiled slightly and glanced at Sally. "These girls," she said to Desdemona, "work for you?"
Desdemona could hardly control herself. "You know goddamn well they do! You cunt!"
Laura motioned to three uniformed officers who were standing nearby to come over. "Would you please arrest this woman?" she said, "Book her for pimping and pandering and put her in the bus with the rest of the girls."
One of the cops reached out to take Desdemona by the elbow. She brushed his hand off, shouting, "Fuck this shit."
Laura smiled. "Add on resisting arrest."
At that point Washington made the mistake of giving Laura a little shove. Before his arm had left her shoulder, Sally had her baton out and rapped it across the back of his nappy skull. He crumpled in an unconscious heap. "Arrest him too," said Laura. "Assault on a peace officer."
"I'm going to get you for this, bitch!" screamed
Desdemona as they dragged her away. "You gonna be sorry you ever fucked around with Desdemona Valentine!! I'm going to make you crawl.. . . "
One of the male cops grinned at Laura, "I don't mean this to sound crude, Davis, but you sure got balls."
Laura smiled. That was the nicest compliment she'd ever received.
Because the briefcase with all of Desdemona's bail was in the back of her BMW, she had the pleasure of staying in jail until Monday morning when she could finally get ahold of her lawyer to spring her. She had not been terribly happy in jail. Neither were her girls. When Desdemona walked out the front door of the downtown station, she was one very pissed lady.