Chapter Eight
The General
As soon as we got into the car, Dooley checked to see that the recorder was running. “Billy,” he said, “you take us down to Beecher Street, number 182. The General live in a big apartment over the Beecher Street Social Club.” I started the car. Dooley continued, “And you, Lisa, that your name?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Lisa, here’s what you gonna do. First, open your coat.” He waited until Lisa unbuttoned her coat. “That’s right. Now, pull up that little red dress and spread for Mister Dooley.” In the rearview mirror, I watched Lisa do as he directed. “Good,” Dooley said. “Turn sideways. Right. Looks like I ain’t gonna see that sweet p***y cept when we pass under a streetlight, but that’s okay.”
We drove in silence for a few minutes. “Spread a little bit mo
