The Hinky Velvet Chair (26 page)

Her phone rang. Ed. “What?” she said.

Ed roared, “That friggin’ fruitcase has called a press
conference tonight!”

“I know.” She listened with half an ear to Ed’s opinion of
the press conference, the fruitcase, and her incompetence. When he paused for
breath she said, “It’s just society coverage. Kauz is showing off some machines
at a block party.”

“Hinky machines?”

“You’re quick. But they’re gonna backfire on him tonight.”
She motioned to Clay to turn on the tracking unit. “And the press will be
waiting to see it all.”

“Terrific. Don’t fuck up.”

“That’s our song, isn’t it,” she said to the dead phone. She
glanced at the tracking unit in Clay’s hands. “You got him?”

“I got him.” He directed her south and east. She took the
angle down Michigan and slowed to a crawl.

Jewel had a bad feeling as they got closer and closer to the
Hancock Tower. This was getting annoying. She didn’t like to crush the spirit
of a budding entrepreneur, but if Buzz wouldn’t do what he was told, she would
have to throw him to the cops.

“There he is,” Clay said. Half a bock ahead, Buzz pedaled
away from the Hancock, dodging tourists and suits, pointing his bike south
along Michigan. Had he noticed them already?

“If he’s going where I think he’s going—”

“I think he’s going.”

Jewel blasphemed and looped around a loading taxi. Buzz
stopped smack in front of Giorgio lo Gigolo,
goddammit,
and got off the bike. She double-parked half a block
behind him, threw on the flashers, and turned over her Official Business card. “Can
you carry that thing and grab him at the same time?”

Clay examined the tracking unit. “Not if it means wrestling.
I doubt it would survive a fall on concrete.”

“Never mind. He’s seen you once. He might not recognize you.
You walk ahead and take a position south of him, not too far away. If he gets
back on the bike, he’s gone.”

“Gotcha.”

Clay moseyed past Buzz as directed and Jewel followed,
ducking behind other pedestrians. Buzz kept looking up and down the street and
checking his phone.
Appointment.
When
his head was turned south, she ran up and grabbed his backpack strap.

He almost knocked over his bike. “Off-officer Jewel!”

“Don’t try to run. How do you think we found you?”

His eyes got round. Clay came up and showed him the tracking
unit.

“What,” Jewel began, “are you doing here? I told you not to
come here. What’s in the backpack today? Dammit, do you
want
to go to jail?” she said, her voice rising.

“I got customers. I got commitments.”

She laid a hand on his shoulder and Clay slid the backpack
away from him at the same time. “It is against the law, Buzz. You cannot sell
drugs.”

“It’s a potion.”

“It’s an unlicensed drug with serious effects.”

Head down in the backpack, Clay said, “What am I looking
for? This thing is the Black Hole of Calcutta.”

“Teeny bottles,” Jewel said.

“Oh, thank goodness,” someone said, and Jewel looked around.
Buzz wriggled out of her grasp, but he didn’t run.

It was Beulah. “I was afraid I’d missed you.” Her well-bred
voice was horribly at odds with her appearance, which was more bag-lady-like
than ever: hair like a crow’s nest, no makeup, schlumpfy sweatsuit, expensive
running shoes with no laces, a scuffed-up Coach handbag, and of course her
signature brooch, broad as her palm, with her name picked out in diamonds.

Today, Beulah smelled bad.
Guess she hasn’t been swimming.

Not bag-lady-like was the wad of crisp twenties she
brandished. “Three more friends want to try the potion.”

Buzz looked miserably at the money. “I came to tell you, I
can’t get any right away.”

Jewel’s phone rang. She told Buzz, “Do
not
move,” and looked at the number. Ed again. “What!”

“For crissake, get over to Giorgio lo Gigolo and bust that
kid! He’s selling shit to some woman right there, right now!”

“I’m on it. Who told you?”

“Giorgio called,” Ed said. “He’s foaming.”

She put the phone against her chest. “Clay, go inside, will
you, and talk Giorgio off his window ledge? Tell him we’re handling it.” She
told the phone, “We’re handling it.”

“Uh,” Clay said, looking past her.

Ed began, “So help me Jesus Mary and Joseph on a flyin’
Swiss petunia—”

Jewel hung up on him.
“Clay.
It’s kind of important?”

Clay looked past her, his eyes bugging.

Jewel smelled another funny odor.

“Beulah! Darling!”

“Bunny!” Beulah embraced another bag lady and air-kissed
her. This one was dressed better, and her fingernails still showed the ruins of
a nice manicure, but her hair was the usual Self Love Lady mess, and she seemed
to have slept in her silk Chanel suit. Also, the b.o.

Bunny said, “Did you get any? Because I went to Presbyterian
Homes to see Mother and it occurred to me, the potion is just what she needs.”

Beulah lit up. “Brilliant! Bunny, meet some friends of mine.”
She gestured graciously to Jewel.

“Clay,” Jewel said in a steely voice. “Get
in
there. We don’t want Giorgio calling
the cops.”

Clay handed her Buzz’s backpack and went into the salon.

Jewel tried in vain to get the ladies to move down the
sidewalk, away from Giorgio’s front door. Beulah rolled over her with a flood
of courtesies.

“And you know Buzz, of course, our prophet, our font. Buzz,
darling, we’re a bit pressed for time. I think I’ll need five. There’s three,
and then for my aunt and for her daily helper. Poor child, she puts up with a
great deal from my aunt,” she said aside to Bunny and Jewel. “Although.” She
nibbled a dirty fingertip. “If one means to be generous, one should remember
everyone at the Homes. Hmm....” She flipped through the thick wad of twenties. “I
have enough cash for perhaps thirty doses.”

“I don’t got any.” Buzz looked at the money with anguish. “The
doc’s out and he ain’t made a new batch or left me none or nothin’. Somebody
took my supply off me.” He sent Jewel a sullen glare.

“The doc’s been busy,” Jewel said.

“Oh, do you know the good doctor?” Bunny said. “Buzz has
been so discreet about his identity. I realize we are engaged in a double-blind
experiment, and we wouldn’t dream of compromising the data. But of course,
sooner or later, the product will be available commercially. Won’t it?” She
clasped her hands together. “It is needed.”

Bunny might smell, but she was appealing. Something about
her wistful pleading made Jewel wish she could give her the darned potion.

A woman came out of Giorgio lo Gigolo and started to walk by
with her nose in the air.

“Allison?” Bunny said.

The woman did a double take. “Bunny?
Beulah!
Where
have you been? Dr. Korshak says you’ve been missing sessions. You don’t answer
his calls. He actually broke confidentiality to ask me to get in touch with you
and make sure you’re okay.” Allison looked Beulah over.
“Are
you okay?” Her nose wrinkled.

Beulah waved a hand. “That man. A vampire. I don’t need him
anymore.”

Giorgio lo Gigolo burst out of his salon, his face red, his
gelled-to-death hair bristling. “This is how I tell you!” he snarled at Clay,
who was sprinting beside him. “These horrible women! They ruin my business! Ah,
here comes it the TV peoples, that’s all I’m needing yet!” He clutched his
hair.

Pedestrians stopped to watch his angst.

Jewel looked over her shoulder. A news van.
Shit.
“Go,” she muttered to Buzz. “Get
out of here. You get on the news, you’re busted. Go-go-go!”

Buzz grabbed his backpack, slung it around his neck, and
took off on his bike.

On Michigan Avenue, cars were slowing to see what the news
van was about.

Jewel sidled left, hoping against hope to hide Buzz’s exit
from the reporters. She grabbed the tracking unit from Clay and shoved her
ballpoint pen into Beulah’s face. “Would you repeat that, please? The part
about love?”

Beulah glanced at Jewel’s “microphone” and swelled with
excitement. “Why, we want to share the love.” She radiated glorious peace and
delight.

“The
self
love,”
Bunny added, shoving in next to Beulah and looking around for the camera.

The cameraman was aiming for Giorgio lo Gigolo. Over the
heads of the Self Love Ladies, Jewel caught Clay’s eye, mimed a throat-cut and
waggled her head.

Clay slithered between the camera and the angry salon owner.
Jewel heard him say, “Giorgio, you don’t want to appear on television in
connection with these women, do you?”

Thank God. My partner
has a brain.

Giorgio vanished into the salon.

A reporter elbowed Jewel aside. She was carrying her own
microphone and she beckoned to her cameraman, who shoved Jewel yet farther
away, out of the shot.

“May we have your name for Channel Eight?” she heard the
reporter saying to Allison.

“Beulah!” Jewel yelled. “Don’t forget tonight!”

Beulah waved. “I won’t!”

As Jewel ducked around the growing crowd of spectators, she
saw four familiar faces jaywalking across Michigan Avenue toward Giorgio’s,
their hair like scarecrows’, their likeable faces glowing, their eyes gleaming
with charisma. Reading from left to right: Diane, Yasmin, Shirley, and Mrs.
Noah Butt.

Jewel trotted back to where Clay leaned against the Tercel. “Let’s
beat it.”

Her plan was in motion. Now to get Clay out of her hair for
a while, so she could follow up with the bad-hair army by phone.

Clay was disappointed that Jewel didn’t mention his slick
work with the gigolo guy. Instead she sent him off to the party goods store.
When he brought back two huge bags, Griffy was in the kitchen, aggravating the
caterers.

Griffy cooed with delight over the bags full of huge
feathered masks in brilliant colors, each with a silky hood that covered the
wearer’s hair and supported the masks. She chose a mask with long
lime-and-emerald feathers sticking a foot into the air. The feathers cascaded
over the whole front of her body, making her look like a big green bird. A
green silk cloak hung from the back of the mask.

“You can’t see my dress! Oh, well, Jewel will have more fun
if she isn’t being pestered by men. And Virgil loves masks.”

Clay hoped they had made up. “Where is Virgil?” He didn’t
want to get caught searching the house for that tape.

Jewel walked into the kitchen. “He’s in the collection room,
bidding against Dr. Kauz for the Venus Machine.” She chose a mask striped
blue-and-white. Chicago Police colors, Clay noted.

Clay frowned. “I thought he already bought the Venus
Machine.” Sovay was playing with fire if she messed Virgil over.

“Guess not.” Jewel leaned closer and whispered, “You were
great back there.”

Clay forgot Virgil’s troubles. “What did I do?”

“You got Giorgio off the street when the cameras showed up.
Nice work, partner.”

It embarrassed Clay, how good he felt. “Yeah, but those
wacky ladies. Ed won’t be happy to see them on the news.”

“He wasn’t,” Jewel said, making a face. “He called. Again.
Hey, would you go put these signs up in the alley for Griffy?”

He leaned over and pecked her on the lips, and she smiled.

“Aren’t you going to pick a mask?”

“I don’t need no steenking mask,” he said, and swaggered out
with the signs before she could see how pleased he was.

o0o

While Clay put up signs, Jewel kept Griffy out of the way of
the caterers and her own staff. She also watched Mellish, who may have been FBI
or a burglar, but he buttled well.

The whole time, she itched to sneak into Virgil’s room.
Randy was still in the bed, alone, no doubt afraid that she wasn’t coming for
him.

“Will Lord Darner be back from Skokie in time for the party?”
Griffy said.

“I hope so.” If she couldn’t get to Randy this afternoon,
maybe she find time during the party. Assuming Virgil didn’t think of it first
and squat. “Where’s Virgil?”

Griffy folded paper napkins into birds and piled them in an
antique china basin. “In the collection room. They’re moving the machines down
to the back garden,” she said, referring to the postage-stamp yard behind the
house.

Jewel peeked out the pantry window. “But you already have a
huge bar out there. There’s no room.”

“They’ll end up in the garage.” Griffy seemed weird today.
The serenity she had gained after her Venus Machine ride had turned steely. “I
told and told them, but they didn’t listen.”

Jewel went outside and waylaid Clay in the garden. “Let’s get
into Virgil’s room tonight. Things are coming to a head between those two. I
don’t want Randy caught in the crossfire.”

“As in?”

“As in, Virgil sneaking the bed and using Randy the way you
did. Or Griffy might get hold of it. I haven’t forgotten how Nina once stole
the brass bed so she could keep Randy forever.”