Kurt's night had been destroyed by his fevered obsession with a woman he could not find. Maybe Vanessa had fallen back in love with her husband. Knowing Lukas the way he did, Kurt ruled out that possibility and visualized Vanessa's naked body with an unknown man. Someone more her kind than an ex-convict from Hamburg.
Unable to sleep, Kurt drove down to the Reeperbahn, figuring if she could be unfaithful, then he would do the same, but upon reaching St. Pauli, he decided that the red-light district had too many eyes and headed to the Hafenstrasse by the river.
He got out of his T-Bird The air was strangely cold for this time of the year and he blew into his hands. The Elbe's black waters slapped against the concrete piers and across the black stretch of water automatic cranes loaded a large container ship. Cars rolled deeper into the Fischmarkt's inky gloom past a gauntlet of female silhouettes lining the cobbled roadside. They were why he came here in the first place. To have a nameless faceless woman to whom the price of admission was only money and not your soul.
A car stopped and its interior lights illuminated the first woman's face, as she leaned over to display her breasts. She was neither young nor pretty, which was typical for the women down here. The Fishmarket was where all the amateurs, housewives seeking some extra cash, and exiles from the Reeperbahn came to meet the Freiers hunting for bargains. Down here they received exactly what they paid for and nothing more.
As he walked down the quay, most of the women viewed the carless man with suspicion and moved away, leaving behind a young redhead in a miniskirt. Headlights lit her youthful face. Her cheek was bruised by a beating and Kurt instantly her as the girl over whom Sean had fought SS Tommy. Kurt even remembered her name from that morning in the Eroscenter and he called out, "Vella."<
The girl turned her head, but her inviting smile changed to a frown. She recognized the owner of the Malchek and didn't want him to see her down here. She turned and fled, her high heels clattering on Hafenstrasse's worn stones.
Kurt started after her, but a big Mercedes sedan blocked his pursuit. The door opened and SS Tommy got out cracking his knuckles like they were snapped electric wires in the rain. He put his arm around the girl and asked her, "Did the big bad man scare you?"
"No, not at all."
"Then why are you running? He is a man and you are a whore." He slapped her on the back of the head. "You are useless."
"Stop it." Kurt took a step forward.
"Why?" SS Tommy grinned, feeling the 9mm strapped to his shoulder. Any other time he would have killed Kurt for kicks. The tide would haul his body out to sea by dawn, as SS Tommy sat down to a steak at the Schlacterei restaurant. Unfortunately the pleasure he would take from killing the nightclub owner would just have to wait till, he was King of the Reeperbahn.
"She belongs someplace better than this," protested Kurt.
"I know, I know, but she has been a bad girl. Several customers complained about her laying on the bed like a starfish. Where better to learn her lesson than this street. Just like you and me, yes? She could use a little training. And who better than these old whores here to teach her all the tricks?" SS Tommy stroked the crying redhead's hair." No more bon-bon suites for you till then. And save your tears, till the truckers come at dawn. Oh, you will be a sight for their whore-sore eyes, meine kleine Bazi Mietze. How they will line up for you and you will love every last one, yes?"
"Yes, Tommy." She had suffered a beating at his hands. She had already serviced ten men here.
"See she is coming back to Papa."
"I am learning my lesson," the redhead replied, thankful for even this brief respite from standing in the dark.
"Hear that. She is a good little whore and that's all I ask from her," SS Tommy chortled with delight. "Kurt, I hear you and Vanessa are through."
SS Tommy was goading him into a fight both by treating this young girl as a piece of meat and mentioning Vanessa's name, but Kurt would be a fool to accommodate him and replied, "No one wins at love all the time."
"Exactly, but what are you doing down here? You can afford better than this. Lucky for you, I have the right rose for you to pluck. Better than the other sluts here, unless dirt is your kick."
SS Tommy lifted her skirt. Her legs were white as her shirt. SS Tommy ripped open her bra, revealing her coned breasts. "Come, baby, show him what you can do."
The redhead undulated against SS Tommy. She would take on anyone to get off this street before the truckers arrived in force.
"Why so disgusted. We knew these streets as boys, but you think you are better than me." It was this betrayal of his class that made SS Tommy despised the nightclub owner more than Lukas, who was born into wealth. "Try her. Barely used. I give her to you. For free, but only the first time. Maybe you too can show her a trick or two. Maybe she is better than Vanessa."
Vella was played the wanton whore for her Alte Strizzi and the pimp smiled accordingly, as she pleaded, "Come on, du Wieberheld, take me home. Take me to a hotel. I promise I will be a good girl or bad, if you like."
She sauntered over to Kurt and threw her arms around his neck. Her groin ground flush into his. If the redhead passed this test, then SS Tommy would install her an apartment to entertain big money clients.
The old whore, Sulka had told her this afternoon, "Talking dirty is as good a turn-on as fucking them." and now Vella whispered a litany of filth in Kurt's ear. The nightclub owner squeezed the soft breasts. The girl's eyes shut in response and a pink tongue lolled over full lips. Her fast learning curve pleased SS Tommy.
Kurt took her by the hand and gave SS Tommy five hundred DMs. "Save your favors. I pay for what I get."
"Whatever you want is good for me." SS Tommy happily stuck the money in his pocket of his leather jacket and walked off to his Mercedes, saying, "Vella, be good."
"Thank you, Kurt. That is your name, yes?" Vella reached down to stroke him, as Sulka had taught her with a banana. This penis leapt to her touch. "I can be whatever you want."
"Do me a favor and shut up, until we get to the hotel." Kurt dragged her back to his T-bird. Vella nodded and said, "Whatever you want."
Vella sat in the front seat of the T-bird and redid her ripped shirt. She would buy a new one tomorrow. Something expensive to make this night disappear, although it hadn't gone as badly as she feared. Her pimp had forgiven her trespass and she had escaped the dawn train of unshaven and unwashed truckers. Kurt's taking her to a cheap Reeperbahn hotel slightly tarnished her bliss, yet Vella was happy, since anyplace was better than walking that street.
Upstairs in the small room the redhead stripped off her dress and slipped out of the flimsy bra and cheap panties. The young redhead was naked, but for her make-up and high heels. Vella smiled at him and said, "You can do anything you want to me, yes?"
Kurt put two-hundred Marks on the bed.
"Not tonight, Vella. I am sorry, but not tonight."
"Please, you have to stay. I don't want to go back to the Fischmarket." Her panic was no act.
Vella's sudden metamorphosis into the young girl she really was melted Kurt's heart. He sat on the bed, head in hands, and began to talk.
Sulka had told her there would be nights like this and Vella lay on the mattress and listened. After an hour of his sorrow, she wished she were back in the Fischmarkt. No one really wants to listen to another person's sins, especially if they couldn't be forgiven by woman or man.
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