Judd turned to Brad. “Think you can take care of it?”
Brad looked puzzled. “We can take care of the makeup, but the ass is something else.”
“I think I can arrange that,” the nurse said. She flushed lightly. “Japanese girls usually have low asses. There are several lingerie shops in Little Tokyo that specialize in ass falsies.”
“Really?” Judd asked.
Jane flushed even more. “Yes, Mr. Crane. I wear them when I dress up.”
“Hurray for the United Nations,” Fast Eddie laughed. “What you get is not always what you see. Vive la différence!”
17
Still wearing the silk robe that Sofia had given her, Valerie Ann walked to the window and looked down. “They should be coming out any minute now,” she said.
Jane came to the window beside her. “Here they come!” she exclaimed.
They could see Fast Eddie opening the door to the limousine. Moving quickly across the sidewalk, Judd entered the car first, then Sofia, Brad beside her. Fast Eddie jumped into the car, pulling the door behind him. A moment later, the car moved out into the traffic.
“They’re gone,” Jane said.
Valerie Ann turned to her. “What was that all about?”
“I don’t know,” Jane answered. “But that’s nothing unusual around here. Dr. Walton is one of the best plastic surgeons around, and many patients insist that they not be seen.”
Valerie Ann went to the table and sat down. “Do you have anything here to drink besides pineapple juice?”
“There’s a bottle of white wine in the refrigerator,” Jane said.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Valerie Ann asked.
Jane took the bottle from the refrigerator and brought it to the table with the glasses. “Not a very good wine,” she said apologetically, turning the plastic cap of the bottle.
“I’m not complaining,” Valerie Ann smiled. “Now all we need are some cigarettes and a couple of toots.”
Jane filled their glasses, then took a package of cigarettes from one pocket and a half-gram vial from the other. A small spoon was attached to its cap with a chain. She placed them all on the table between them. “That’s pharmaceutical, right out of our own dispensary.”
“Party time,” Valerie Ann laughed.
A few minutes later they were relaxed in the chairs. Jane held the cigarette lighter out to the stewardess. “It’s been hectic,” she said.
Valerie Ann let out some smoke and sipped at the wine. “Your doctor’s cute,” she said. “Does he have any prejudice against black girls?”
Jane gave her little Japanese giggle. “Not at all. But it won’t help.”
“Maybe I can talk him into it,” Valerie Ann said.
“Approximately half the nurses in the place would like to. But no chance.”
“Very straight?” Valerie Ann asked. “Strictly business?”
The Japanese giggled again. “No business. Straight gay.”
“Shit,” Valerie Ann said disappointedly. “That’s my luck. Every guy I have eyes for turns out to be gay.”
“Your boss seems strange,” Jane said.
“He is strange,” the black girl agreed.
“Did you ever make it with him?”
“No,” she answered. “He’s ice.” She looked at the nurse. “I wonder what he sees in that Mrs. Evans. She’s not exactly a kid.”
“Maybe he likes older women,” Jane giggled.
Valerie Ann smiled at her. “I have this little hook in my nose,” she said. “Do you think your boss would spring for a little nose job for me? Just so it doesn’t turn out to be a total loss.”
Jane laughed.
“Damn it,” Valerie Ann said, clapping her forehead. “I just remembered, I promised my sister I would join her this weekend on a retreat at the Church of Eternal Life. Now I’m stuck in Hawaii. Would it be all right if I called her in L.A. and let her know I can’t make it?”
“Sure,” said Jane. “Just dial direct.”
***
Brad and Fast Eddie were seated on the jump seats on either side of the console containing the bar, television screen and radio. Set into the top of the console was a telephone and a call director. Brad gestured to Judd and Sofia. “Sit at opposite corners, the rear window, please. I need a clear view.”
Brad looked out through the rear window; he leaned over to the driver. “Take the old road to the airport, behind the shopping center.
“Right,” the driver replied over his shoulder.
Brad turned back to them. “They’re right behind us,” he said. He looked down at the call director and pressed a button. A row of narrow red signal lights began to flicker. “They’re using a mobile telephone,” he said. “Let’s see if we can tap into their channel.” He pressed the automatic frequency transponder.
Fast Eddie called the driver. “Give me the trumpet case I left on the seat next to you.”
The driver held up the black case. Fast Eddie took it, placed it on his lap and began unlocking the snaps.
Brad stared at him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to play the trumpet at a time like this?”
Fast Eddie grinned back. “Don’t you know that music soothes the savage beast?” He opened the case and took out a black cylinder about a foot and a half in length and four inches in diameter. He locked in two arm clamps, one on each side of the cylinder; he fitted a flat rectangular metal box into the opening created for it under the cylinder. “Pretty, isn’t it?” he asked.
Without waiting for an answer, he pressed the switch to open the sunroof over the passenger compartment. He raised the cylinder and without standing up through the opening, placed it on the roof and tightly screwed its clamps. Then he looked through a tiny direction finder at the bottom of the metal box. He adjusted the clamps slightly. Finally he turned, smiling, to Brad. “Take a look.”
Brad looked through the tiny aperture. The white van following them showed exactly in the cross-hairs of a telescopic sight. Brad sat back in his seat. “It’s a periscope,” he said. “But what the hell do we need it for if we can see it just as clearly through the window.”
“It’s not just a periscope,” Fast Eddie said, a faint hurt in his voice. “Do you think I’d fuck with a toy like that?”
“What the hell is it then?”
“It’s a miniaturized version of the Swedish Anti-Tank Weapon that the U.S. Army uses. This little rocket is powered by compressed air and is accurate up to a hundred and fifty yards. It carries enough incendiary explosive to turn that van into a fireball, leaving nothing but dust after it.” He looked at Brad sarcastically. “Still think it’s a toy?”
Brad stared at him for a moment, then grinned. “You know, Fast Eddie,” he said. “I think you’re a mean mother.”
“I don’t like people fucking with us,” Fast Eddie said. He took out his gold chain and vial. “Anybody care for a toot?”
“Not my thing,” Brad answered, watching the call director.
“I could use one,” Sofia said.
“Okay,” said Fast Eddie, handing the vial to her. “But be careful, there’s a hell of a wind coming down from the sunroof.”
Sofia turned her face to the corner, cupping her hands, and snorted. “Good,” she said, turning back.
Brad’s voice was excited. “I’ve tapped their channel!” He turned on the speaker.
They heard a man’s voice, heavy but crackling clearly through the static. “I’m telling you. There’s no extra woman in that car, only the black stewardess that came from the plane.”
There was another voice, but the words were unintelligible through a burst of static. The first man’s voice came on again. “I don’t know why he sent for her. Maybe he wanted her to suck his cock on the way to the plane. How do I know? Maybe he wants her to hold his hand. I told you he’s got that big bandage on his nose. Maybe he had himself a plastic lining up there. He’s a well-known cokehead.”
“Fuck him!” Fast Eddie said angrily.
“Let’s blast ’em!”
Judd held up his hand. “Let’s listen.”
“Okay,” the man’s voice said. “I’m coming in. Over and out.”
The red light on the call director went out. Brad looked back through the rear window. The big white van slowed down; they saw it make a U-turn and head back to the city. “They’re gone,” Judd said with a sigh of relief.
He turned to look out the window. The van was speeding away from them. “I’ll take that toot now,” he said to Fast Eddie. “And take our toy down. But be careful.”
“I’ll be careful,” Fast Eddie said. “But you’ll never make that toot with a spoon with your nose bandaged. You’ll need a straw.”
“Screw it,” Judd said irritably. He began to take off the bandage.
“Better leave it,” Brad said quickly. “They may have some people to check us at the airport.”
***
Judd, seated at the table, remained silent while the plane took off. Sofia glanced through the window as they circled wide around the island, climbing steeply for altitude. It was late in the afternoon; the sun turned everything golden below them, even the white-capped rollers against the beaches. “Beautiful,” she said.
He looked at her. He seemed depressed and silent. The bell sounded, the seat belt signal went off. He unlocked his belt and got up. “I’m going to my cabin,” he said. “Just tell Raoul when you’re ready for dinner.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“I’m not hungry,” he said, then turned and walked through the lounge to his door. He didn’t look back at her as he went into his cabin and closed the door behind him.
Fast Eddie came from behind the bar toward her. She glanced out the window again. “Dusk is falling quickly,” she said.
“We’re flying into the night,” he said. “We’ll be landing in San Francisco at nine in the morning.”
“Is that where we get off?”
He shook his head. “No, we’re going on. But you’re getting off because we’re changing the cabin crew. The boss figures they’ll provide a good cover for you.”
He held up a large zippered leather envelope and placed it on the table before her. “Everything inside is for you,” he said. “The boss asked me to explain it to you.”
He opened the zipper and emptied the contents on the table. She looked down at it. Passport, credit cards, checkbook, driver’s license. All in her name. Marissa Evans. Even the photographs on the passport and driver’s license were of her. There was also a wallet filled with one-hundred-dollar bills.
“There’s five thousand there,” Fast Eddie said.
“Fine,” she said. “Now what do I do?”
“Simple,” he said. “The crew bus drops you in downtown San Francisco. Walk around a few blocks, enough to make sure you’re not followed. If you think you are, there’s a telephone number on the first page of your passport. Call it and leave your location. Security will pick you up. Don’t worry about it, they’ll recognize you and call you by name.”
“Mrs. Evans?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And if they don’t or can’t?”
He put a small black .25 caliber automatic on the table. “The bullets have explosive heads. Blow the shit outta them and get the hell away from there. Then call Security again.”
“What if I can’t get away?” she asked.
“I’ve seen you in action,” he said confidently. “You’ll be okay.”
She was silent for a moment. “Then what do I do?”
“Go to a department store and buy yourself some clothes and a valise. Pay cash. Dump the stewardess uniform in a covered street trash can and go to the nearest auto rental station and get a good midsize car. Take the freeway to Los Angeles on U.S. 5. Pass all the L.A. exits until you reach the exit to Marina Del Rey. Follow that to the Marina City Club Hotel. There’ll be a reservation there for you.”
“What if I get lost?” she asked. “I know nothing about Los Angeles.”
He laughed. “Ask a policeman.”
She smiled. “How much time should the trip take?”
“Following the fifty-five-mile speed limit, seven to eight hours,” he answered. “If everything goes according to schedule, you should be on the freeway by noon. Even if you stop for gas and a bite of lunch, you should make it to the hotel between eight-thirty and nine o’clock. Have dinner in your room and wait there. We’ll contact you.”
She was silent a moment, then returned everything to the leather envelope. She looked up at him. “I think I need some help.”
He smiled. “Of course.” Then added, “But don’t do too much or you’ll never get to sleep.”
***
She remembered his advice as she stared, wide awake, in the dark of her cabin. Annoyed, she turned on the light beside her bed and sat up. She took a cigarette and lit it, drawing the smoke inside her. “Damn!” she said, blowing out the smoke.
She looked up at the wall clock. Almost three hours into the flight. She had been trying vainly to fall asleep for more than an hour. She dragged again at the cigarette and finally called the lounge on the telephone.
After a moment, a stewardess’s voice answered sleepily, “Hello?”
“Is Mr. Crane there by any chance?” she asked.
“No, Mrs. Evans,” the girl replied. “He’s never come back from his stateroom.”
“Thank you,” Sofia said, putting down the telephone. She stared at the small door that led directly to the circular staircase into Judd’s stateroom. After a moment she rose, wrapped a large bath towel around herself and went up the staircase.
She knocked at his door. “Are you awake?” she whispered.
His voice sounded like a faint echo. “Come in.”
She opened the door slowly. It took a moment until her eyes adjusted to the dim red light in the cabin. She could make out Judd seated in the lotus position in the far corner of his bed, his back toward her.
“Lie down,” he said, not turning, his voice still a curious echo.
She moved to the bed and stretched out behind him. She watched him, but he was more a shadow than a reality she could see. Gently, she touched his shoulder. “Are you all right?” she asked.
His voice was suddenly harsh. “I want to fuck you.”
She was silent.
He stood up quickly beside the bed. She stared at him. In the soft reddish light his erection seemed grotesquely immense and swollen. His voice sounded almost angry. “That is what you want, isn’t it?”
She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “No,” she whispered. But her voice was smothered as he flung himself upon her. She felt as if she were being torn apart as he entered her. Then, almost instantly, he erupted into an orgasm that triggered a cascading ejaculation. He shouted his agony, then slumped upon her, trying to catch his breath.
After a moment, she touched his face with her fingers. She felt the wet tears on his cheeks. “Judd,” she whispered.
His voice was muffled against her shoulder. “Amarinth is dead,” his voice, husky with pain, muttered. “You said she would cry. She committed suicide.”
She was silent, then slowly she pressed his face to her breast. “I’m so sorry, baby.” She wept with him. “Please, baby. Don’t hurt.”
18
She awoke in the dark and turned toward him. He was gone. She sat up and turned on the light. The wall clock read 9:30 A.M., Pacific Coast Time. She stepped from the bed to the window and raised the blinds. Sunlight poured in; she blinked her eyes.
She looked down and saw Fast Eddie walking quickly to a helicopter about a hundred yards away. She watched him enter the copter with Judd and the doors close behind them. The rotors began turning at once; a few minutes later, the craft lifted from the ground. She watched out the window until the copter disappeared from sight; then she went down the narrow private staircase to her own cabin.
She felt let down, curiously disappointed. She had become aware of something from him last
night, something she had never felt before. Maybe it was only a feeling. She wasn’t sure of exactly what it was she felt—whether it was his own feeling he had transmitted to her or her own. She stepped into the shower. It had to be time for her to get started.
Raoul was waiting for her in the lounge. “Good morning, Mrs. Evans.”
“Good morning,” she said.
“You have time for breakfast if you like,” he said.
“Just coffee, thank you,” she said. He started away. She called him back. “Did Mr. Crane leave a message for me?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Evans. None.”
“That’s okay.” She tried to smile. “I didn’t expect one.”
“But Fast Eddie left something for you,” he said.
She looked at him curiously. He handed her a small white envelope and walked toward the galley. Quickly she opened the envelope. It contained a vial of cocaine with a silver spoon, together with a little note.
She read it quickly. “Just to keep your spirits up. F.E.”
She smiled to herself and sat down to await the coffee.
***
Judd’s office in the executive building in the center of Crane City was very different from the office he had inherited from his father at world headquarters in New York. This one was simple, almost Spartan in decor, with modern furniture, mainly white and black plastic and Formica. It was a working office, not for show. Floor-to-ceiling louvers hid the room from the world beyond the windows.
He concealed his surprise when he saw Barbara, Paul Gitlin, Doc Sawyer and Merlin waiting there for him. He glanced at Merlin with faint annoyance. “I hadn’t realized I’d called a directors’ meeting.”
“I’m sorry,” Merlin said nervously. “I think it’s important.”
Judd walked behind his desk and sat down. “What’s so important?”
Merlin looked at him, then turned to Paul. “Perhaps you can explain to him, Mr. Gitlin.”
“Uncle Paul?” Judd asked.
For once, Paul did not have his usual bottle of Scotch on the table before him. “I’ll make it simple for you,” he began. “You can’t dispose of Crane Industries just as you’d like to. Its whole structure is too complicated and too interlocked. There’s no way you can unscramble the eggs.”
Descent from Xanadu Page 26