V Is for Vengeance

she rang up the sale. The charge went through without a blip. I signed the slip and tucked my copy of the receipt in my jeans pocket, wondering if it was an expense I could write off. I allowed her to swaddle the coat in tissue paper before she placed it into a shopping bag.
    I thanked her and left, making a quick right-hand turn into the wig shop next door, where I selected a head of shoulder-length blond hair for $29.95. I pulled it on, slicking my hair under the edges of the wig and out of sight. I stared at myself in the mirror, bemused by the woman looking back at me.
    The salesclerk was male and clearly had opinions about what was suitable for someone who looked as clueless as I did. “Maybe something closer to your natural shade,” he said.
    “I like this. It’s perfect.” While it was already hot and scratchy, I was smitten with the image of myself as a blonde.
    “I’m not a fan of synthetics, if you don’t mind my saying so. I’d recommend real hair. We have hand- or machine-tied cranial prostheses with nonslip cap construction.”
    “This is for a costume party. It’s a joke.”
    He was wise enough to keep additional remarks to himself, but his disappointment was palpable.
    The transaction took longer than I thought was absolutely necessary, but it gave me a chance to pull out the coat and shrug myself into it. I put my shoulder bag in the twine-handled shopping bag, knowing that from a distance, my shoulder bag was as much a visual cue to my identity as my clothing.
    “Nice coat,” he said as he handed me my change.
    “Lord and Taylor.”
    “I can tell.”
    The short walk back to the pawnshop gave me the opportunity to scour the area for surveillance measures. While I didn’t see anything that seemed out of place, that was no guarantee Len hadn’t made the relevant arrangements. At the same time, I didn’t believe he had an unlimited number of pals willing to volunteer their services regardless of the story he told.
    When I reentered the pawnshop, June was busy with a customer but looked up. She wasn’t fooled by my disguise but it wasn’t meant to deceive her. As soon as she was free she gestured me over. The two guys working with her must have been aware what we were up to because neither paid much attention when she ushered me into the rear.
    Pinky was holed up in a combination broom closet and bathroom where a toilet and small sink shared space with mops, a bucket on wheels, and storage shelves filled top to bottom with recently hocked power tools and small home appliances. The air smelled like motor oil and an air freshener that didn’t even come close to freshening the air. A black-and-white television monitor on one side of the vanity displayed a view of the shop out front. As soon as Pinky realized it was me, he flashed me a big goofy grin, probably thinking June had talked me into helping him where he had failed. He took my hand in his and patted it. “Thank you.”
    I wanted to point out I hadn’t done anything yet, but I had another matter on my mind. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d set up a meeting with some guy to hand over the photographs. Wasn’t that the plan?”
    “That’s just it. I been trying to get in touch with the fellow, but his office doesn’t know where he is. June let me go out to the counter twice to use the phone, but then she put her foot down. She’s worried Len’ll come in or one of his guys will spot me through the window. Anyways, the guy’s receptionist has been nice about it and says if I tell her where I am, she’ll send someone to pick me up as soon as he arrives.”
    I said, “Really. Well, that’s accommodating. What’s she think is going on?”
    “Beats me. I didn’t tell her nothing.” He tapped his head to show he was using his brains. “So, now what do we do?”
    “Transform you into a girl and get you out of here.” I turned to June. “I need you to call a taxi. Tell the dispatcher the pickup’s a blond woman in a camel-hair coat who’ll be on Hidalgo at the side entrance to the Butler Hotel.”
    “How soon?”
    “Ten minutes. And tell the cabbie to wait in case it takes longer than we think.”
    “I’ll leave you two alone,” June said as she moved away.
    I made Pinky perch on the toilet lid while I took the wig from my head and secured it to his. He didn’t look that bad as a blonde, though his wide shoulders and swarthy complexion gave him the look of a middle-aged Miami transvestite. Once he