Harold Robbins Thriller Collection

by Harold Robbins

  We slapped hands. “Hey, Danny,” I said. “What are you doing up this way?”

  “I’m headin’ for Hollywood Boulevard to see if I can find me a trick.” He looked into my face. “What are you doing?”

  “Not me. I’ve got to go back to work.”

  He couldn’t help the slightly bitchy tone. “The chick leave you dry?”

  I laughed. “I told you straight.”

  “Man,” he said, “the world’s a downer.”

  “No action at the Silver Stud tonight?”

  “There’s action all right, but the kids are acing me out. Would you believe they’re comin’ in there, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, with their phony IDs and makin’ out like crazy? All those queens love chicken. I guess I’m an old man to them.”

  “That’s rough, but you got a long way to go before you’re old.”

  “Twenty-five is old in my business.”

  “You just had a run of bad luck; things will turn.”

  He shook his head despondently. “I gotta score tonight. My girl is bitchin’. He says I haven’t bought him a present in weeks.”

  “Belt him.”

  “You gotta be kidding. He’s six-two and thirty pounds heavier than me. If things keep up like this, I’ll have to find another line of work. I may go into dealing full time.” He looked into my face, his voice lowered to a whisper. “Can you use a gram of pure rock crystal?”

  “How much?”

  “Sixty-five.” He saw the expression on my face. “For you fifty,” he added quickly.

  He palmed the fifty and slipped me the cellophane envelope, which I put into my pocket. “Thanks,” he said. “That’ll help.”

  “Okay.”

  We began walking toward the store. “Nobody appreciates style anymore,” he said. “All they want is young juice.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Christ, I could put any of those kids away. If those queens only knew. I can do more with my tongue than one of those kids could with a two-foot cock.”

  We were at my door. “Don’t get discouraged,” I said. “Class will tell.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “That’s right.” He looked at me. “The word on the street is very good about you. They think you’re goin’ to make it. Especially now that Lonergan’s behind you. He picks nothin’ but winners.” We slapped hands again. “Good luck,” he said. “See ya around.”

  “Good luck to you, too.” I watched him hurry to the corner and turn up the side street, then reached for my keys. I didn’t need them. The door opened as soon as I touched the knob. Then I remembered I hadn’t set the latch. I went inside, locked the door, then went up to the apartment.

  I stared at the papers strewn all over the kitchen table. The Hollywood Express was child’s play compared with the magazine. Everything had been easier with the paper—production, typography, pictures, printing. With the magazine everything was important, even the staples that held it together.

  I thought about the coke I had just bought. A snort wouldn’t hurt. If it was any good, it would energize me enough to get in a few more hours’ work. I took a single-edge razor blade from the artist’s easel and a glass plate from the closet and placed the crystal on it. It looked like a white jagged rock slightly smaller than my thumb and the light reflected from it just as it would bounce from a clump of snow. I wet my index finger, then rubbed it on the crystal and licked it. The slightly saline taste and tingling of my tongue told me it was okay. Carefully I began to shave the crystal so that the little flakes fell to the plate. I had a small mound and there was still a large crystal left. It was solidly packed.

  I put the rock back in the cellophane bag and chopped the flakes into a fine powder. Then I separated it into thin lines. There was enough for four good snorts. I rolled a ten-dollar bill into a makeshift straw, snorted one line into each nostril, then put the rest aside for later.

  It was good coke. It hit me almost immediately. I could feel my head clear and my eyes open at the same time the insides of my nostrils began to tingle and go slightly numb as if my sinuses were clogging. “Yeah,” I said aloud.

  I made myself a cup of instant coffee, sat down and opened the first folder. I laughed aloud at the title. An ass man’s guide to character. The thrust of the article was that a girl’s ass told you as much about her character as her face. It had all sorts of detail about the meaning of characteristics such as high, low, broad, tight, hard, soft, bouncy, flabby, droopy, wiggly, big, small, stuck out, stuck in, even what it meant when one buttock was a different size from the other. We had paid a college kid that Eileen knew twenty-five dollars for the piece. The kid was worth every penny of it. He had really made a study of the subject. The more I read, the more I laughed until I realized I was having too good a time. Nothing could be that funny. I was as high as a kite.

  I finished the coffee. There was no use trying to read. I decided to check out some of the photographs. I turned off the ceiling light and went over to the slide projector. I switched it on and the white light filled the screen. I pressed the button, the slide fell into place and I was staring into the biggest, funniest cunt I had ever seen in my life. A picture of a train going into the Holland Tunnel flashed through my mind. I pressed the button again. This time I got a rear shot, anus and cunt. Brown and pink. Two trains, I thought, laughing aloud.

  I switched off the projector and sank back in the chair. It was too much. I couldn’t handle it. I was too high on the ladder and couldn’t come down enough even to make sense to myself.

  I thought I heard the bedroom door behind me creak. I shook my head. Come on now, I was beginning to hear things. I was alone in the apartment. Then I heard the door creak again and I got out of the chair.

  Now I knew I was gone. Somebody had cut that coke with acid. I was beginning to hallucinate. Denise was standing in the bedroom doorway, dressed in the French maid’s costume she hadn’t worn for almost a year. “Oh, shit,” I said.

  She came into the room slowly, her eyes wide. “Gareth,” she asked in a hushed, hesitant voice, “can I have my old job back?”

  For a moment I didn’t speak. Then I realized that she was not a hallucination. I held out my arms to her. She came into them and rested her face against my chest. “Hey, baby,” I said, “where you been?”

  I could feel her trembling against me. Her voice was muffled against my shirt. “Gareth, Gareth,” she said in a hurt voice, “you never sent for me like you promised.”

  38

  She straddled me like a jockey, her knees bent, thighs pressing against my hips, using her legs as leverage to raise and lower herself gently onto me. My cock felt as if it were floating in warm oil. She leaned forward so that her breasts touched mine and kissed me. Now she was sliding across me, the pressure of her pubis harder against me. I felt her go over the wall as another orgasm shuddered through her. “Oh, lover,” she said.

  I held her face tightly. After a moment she sat up and looked at me. I was still inside her, but she made no move to let me go. She looked down at me. “Your energy particles are diffused,” she said.

  I smiled. “They should be.” Over her shoulders, daylight was coming through the window. “We’ve been fucking for hours.”

  “That’s not the reason. I feel I came a thousand times, but you didn’t even come once.”

  “That’s the coke. It gives me a hard that won’t quit. But if I overdo it, I can’t come.”

  “It’s not the coke. I’m on the third plane now. I know about those things.”

  “I forgot,” I said. “Peace and love.”

  “Peace and love,” she replied automatically. “I know a lot more now than when we were together the last time.” She rose to her knees and moved up until she was over my face. “Drink me,” she said.

  I put a hand on each buttock and brought her down to me. She was honey and myrrh, pomegranates and tangerines, mulled wine and mountain dew and all the sweet tastes of love. I felt the muscles in her buttocks strain as she shudder
ed again and I bathed in her sweetness.

  This time she rolled on her back, her chest rising and falling heavily. “I can’t stop coming,” she said. “My cunt feels like I’ve had the kinetic conductor on it for a week.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  After a moment she sat up and leaned over me. She closed her hand over my cock and looked at it. “It’s beautiful,” she said, kissing it. Then she took the glans in her mouth and gently flicked her tongue across the tip. Afterward she held it close to her cheek, her eyes closed. “I wish you could come,” she said.

  “I told you. It’s the coke.”

  She opened her eyes and looked at me. “No, it’s not the coke.”

  “What is it then?”

  “You’re in love with her,” she said.

  “In love?” I was surprised. “With who?”

  “Eileen.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “No, I’m not,” she said seriously. “I told you I’m on the third plane. I see things more clearly now. I was across the street when you came out with her. I saw your auras as you walked to the car. They merged into each other with love and when you kissed her, there was enough light to turn the night into day.”

  “What else did you see?” I asked.

  “There was a man in a doorway across the street from the car. He was waiting to see you. I didn’t see him, but I felt his aura and I knew he meant you no harm, so I came upstairs.”

  I didn’t speak.

  “There’s one thing I don’t understand,” she said in a puzzled voice. “Why isn’t she here with you?”

  I looked at her.

  “I wouldn’t mind,” she said. “I love you and you love each other and so, of course, I love her too.”

  It was late afternoon when I awoke; the sun was beginning to move down in the west. I sat up and reached for a cigarette. The bedroom door was closed, but I could hear music from the radio. I lit the cigarette and went into the bathroom. When I came out, she was waiting for me with a tray in her hand.

  “Get back into bed,” she said.

  “I have work to do.”

  “Get back into bed and eat your breakfast,” she said firmly. “You’re not working today. You have to allow your energy particles to regroup.”

  The smell of the freshly brewed coffee and the steak and eggs made my mouth water. I hadn’t known I was so hungry. I got back into bed and she put the tray across my legs.

  I picked up the glass of orange juice while she poured the coffee. “I didn’t know we had food in the refrigerator.”

  “I went to the store while you were sleeping,” she said. “You had absolutely nothing.”

  I finished the juice and began to eat. She watched me for a moment, then went back to the door. “Call me when you’ve finished and I’ll come get the tray. Then you’re going back to sleep.”

  “What are you going to be doing?”

  “Getting things straight out there. I can’t believe the mess. The place hasn’t been cleaned in months.”

  She closed the door behind her and I cut into the steak. It was perfect, pink and rare, and the eggs were just as I liked them, the yolks hot but still soft. I cleaned the plate as if I hadn’t eaten for months.

  She seemed to have a built-in sensor because she came in just as I finished and poured the second cup of coffee. She picked up the tray.

  “Leave the coffeepot,” I said.

  “No more than two cups. I want you to go back to sleep.”

  “But I’m not sleepy.”

  I was wrong. I leaned back for just a moment to rest my eyes and the next thing I knew it was nine o’clock at night. Again the built-in sensor seemed to be working because she came into the bedroom just as I woke up.

  “What did you feed me?” I asked. “I went out like a light.”

  “Nothing. You were just making up for a sleep deficiency. Now take a nice hot bath and relax while I put fresh linen on the bed. Afterward you can slip into a comfortable robe and you come out for dinner. I have a nice roast chicken in the oven.”

  I had no arguments. I was feeling better than I had in a long time. I got out of bed and kissed her nose. “Hey, why are you so good to me?”

  “I told you. I love you,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Now go in and take your bath.”

  I found an already rolled joint on the night table and took it into the bathroom with me. I loved to smoke in a hot tub. I knew of no better way to relax and feel good. High, but not too high. Up and easy. By the time I got out of the tub a half hour later the whole world glowed. I finished brushing my hair, but when I looked for my robe, it wasn’t there. I went into the bedroom and found it, freshly washed and neatly ironed, lying across the bed. I put it on and went into the living room. I stood there frozen with surprise.

  The furniture had been moved, and the room completely rearranged. It was as if it suddenly had become twice its previous size. Now the work area was just inside the entrance door in a neatly compact arrangement, instead of scattered throughout the room, as it had been. The couch had been moved to the wall on the far end of the room. There was a cocktail table in front of it and an easy chair at right angles to it, so that it created a warm conversation corner. The small round dining table had been moved from the kitchen to a place in front of the window. It was beautifully set with pink linen, dinner plates, wineglasses and silverware. In the center of the table was a combined crystal candlestick and flower vase, which held a single rose and a glowing red candle. Next to it was a bottle of Château Mouton Rothschild, already opened and breathing.

  But it was the sight of Eileen coming toward me, a tremulous smile on her lips, offering a scotch on the rocks, that really blew my mind. “Like it?” she asked. “We’ve been working all afternoon.”

  I stared at her like a dummy.

  Denise came toward us, carrying a valise. “Sit down and enjoy your drinks while I unpack Eileen’s bag.”

  I found my voice. “What made you come?” I asked Eileen.

  “I called her and told her about your auras,” Denise said.

  “That’s gotta be crazy,” I said.

  “Is it? Just look at the two of you now. Your incandescence is lighting up the whole room.”

  She went into the bedroom and I looked at Eileen. “Do you believe that shit?”

  “I have to. I’m here, aren’t I?”

  I put down the drink and she moved into my arms. Her lips were soft, her mouth warm and sweet and the press of her body against mine was like a counterimage of my own that had been missing all the time.

  The table had been set for just the two of us and when I asked Denise to join us, she refused. “Your auras aren’t ready for me yet,” she said.

  I don’t know what Eileen and I talked about. The dinner was delicious, but I don’t remember eating it. Then suddenly it was midnight and Denise had vanished. Neither of us had seen her leave.

  “Where did she go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I sipped the wine. “Do you think she might be Cinderella?”

  Eileen laughed. “No. I am. And you’re Prince Charming.”

  I picked up the bottle of wine. “Come into the bedroom.”

  I opened the door and stood there for a moment. Denise had worked her little magic in there, too. The bed was turned down, a candle was glowing on the night table and there was a note lying on the pillow.

  Eileen went to the bed and picked up the note.

  “What does it say?” I asked.

  “Peace and love,” she said.

  I put the wine on the night table. “You never told me what she said that made you come here.”

  “She said that you couldn’t come unless you were with me. That I was the only one who could get your energy particles to regroup and become whole again.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “Of course I do,” she said. “She told me you fucked her all night and never came. Not even once.” She came toward me and bega
n to open my robe. She bent forward, pressing her lips to my nipples. “It’s not going to be like that tonight,” she said, her fingers tracing a gentle line down the center of my body.

  I didn’t know then how right she was. But I found out. Being inside her was not fucking—it was going home. Drinking her was not drinking—it was swallowing the juices of life. Sucking her breasts, I was her child feeding on the milk she’d made for me and each time she gave to me, she took from me because she was the eternal fountain of my life.

  I lay back against the pillow, her head resting on my shoulder. She turned her face toward me. “I love you,” she said.

  I started to answer her.

  She placed a silencing finger against my lips. “Don’t say anything. Not now. It’s not the time yet.”

  I was silent. I knew there was still a lot I had to learn about myself.

  “Kiss me good night, my love. And let’s go to sleep.”

  I woke with the first hint of daylight. I looked across the pillow at Eileen. She was in deep sleep, her face soft and vulnerable. I wanted to touch her and stroke her, but instead, I slipped out of bed, drew the window drapes quietly and went out of the darkened room into the living room. I walked to the kitchen, turned on the light and began to fill the coffee percolator.

  “I’ll take care of that.” Denise’s voice came from behind me.

  I turned around. She was standing naked in the doorway. “Where did you come from?”

  “There,” she said, pointing.

  I followed her finger and saw the sheet, blanket and pillow on the couch. “I thought you’d left,” I said.

  “How could I?” she asked, taking the percolator from my hand. “I work here, don’t I?” She began to spoon coffee into the pot. “I thought it would be nice if the two of you were alone for a while.”

  “That’s nice of you,” I said. “When did you come back?”

  “Right after you turned out the living-room light.”