The Hinky Velvet Chair (31 page)

“No,” Randy said. “No. I’ve realized how easily I might be
separated from you. It was a good idea.” He flashed her a big-black-cow-eyed
look. “Also, I thought to search her mind. And I learned that—”

“She’s a black widow. That’s what we call it. I know. Clay
showed me his files. He searched her room, too, but either he found nothing we
can use, or he snitched her jewelry.”

“The poison is not in her room,” Randy said. “She’s too wily
for that. I read her mind. She searched our room. She found your badge. She
knows who you are. She was going to try to force you to leave the house. I
thought if I seduced her and took away proof, I could threaten to show it to
Mr. Thompson.” His tone got an edge. “Had you rescued me sooner, I could have
warned you.”

It was a hairbrained idea, but his heart was in the right
place. She put her hand over his.

“I tried to find you. I did. Clay got me into her room, but
we didn’t even realize Virgil stole the bed and put it up here already.” She
swallowed. “Stupidhead Clay told him about your curse. I was so afraid Virgil
would want to use the bed the way Clay did, to make money,” she confessed. “I
was scared shitless for you.”

Randy started to smile. “I believed you might be glad of an
opportunity to be rid of me.”

“I kind of was,” she admitted. “But I, uh, I kind of missed
you.”

The smile got bigger. “I shall remind you that you said so.”
He slid off the bed. “Did you bring me any clothes?”

She hadn’t. “I was in a huge hurry to get in here and get
out. Which reminds me, we need to get moving! That press conference will start
the second the media arrive.”

“Fortunately Virgil was once taller than he is now,” Randy
said from the walk-in closet.

To Jewel’s horror, someone opened the door, letting a sliver
of bright light into the room. She froze, naked on top of the coverlet. So much
for her penny.

“Fuck!” she breathed, and shut her eyes.

Don’t panic, Randy.
Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic—

She heard a chunky, thunking noise and a heavy body hit the
floor. “Randy?”

The light flashed on. Randy stood by the door, rubbing his
fist. On the floor lay Mellish, the intrusive.

“Jeez, what did you hit him with?”

Randy showed her his fist.

“Wow.” He was still naked. “Get dressed, okay? Let’s boogie
before he wakes up.”

While Randy dressed himself out of Virgil’s closet, Jewel
went to the in-wall entertainment center and started pressing buttons.
Something clacked and squeaked. A black videotape cassette popped out of a
slot.

Was it the right one? She bit her lip.

“Go out in the hall and keep watch, will you? I have to get
dressed, and this is not a good moment for Virgil to find us.”

For a miracle Randy did as she asked. While she was
dressing, she stuck the tape back into its slot and fumbled with the controls.
A smeary, grainy picture appeared, and then Clay said,
Why yes, I’m having a ball. I haven’t had so much fun since we hid
under a thirteen thousand dollar sofa at Field’s and then burgled the joint.
She pounded on the eject button as Randy stuck his head in the door.

“Someone is coming.”

“I’m ready,” she said, shoving her feet into her shoes and
grabbing up her big feathered mask. “For the love of Mike,” she said, goggling
at his outfit. “That was in Virgil’s closet?”

Randy had chosen a slick, shiny, purple paisley, polyester
shirt with a chest ruffle and frilly cuffs, and a pair of powder-blue stretch
pants to go with. The stretch pants left nothing to the imagination. He had
added a pair of white vinyl boots, and was struggling to cram his shoulders
into a burnt orange crushed-velvet frock coat.

“Hey, Willy Wonka. Ix-nay on the oat-cay. It’s summer,” she
said. “Hotter than Dutch love.”

He smoothed a hand over the sleeve. “My father would have
worn this coat.”

Her eyebrows climbed into her hairline.

The maid came up the stairs. “Oh!” She fell back against the
bannister, clutching her heart, or body parts near it, with both hands. “Oh,
it’s you, Lord Darner!” Her eyes bugged out at those stretch pants.

Randy preened.

Jewel poked him in the ribs. “Peacock.”

When they got to the kitchen door, she could see over the
garden wall into the alley. A cameraman, accompanied by someone holding a
bright portable floodlight, was coming through the alley. A sleek-looking
blonde woman walked backward facing the camera, talking into a microphone.

Jewel held her breath. If they came into the garden first,
they would be distracted by the orgy. If they stopped at the garage first,
she’d be screwed.

The cameraman turned in through the garden gate.

She let out air. “Randy, would you mind going outside and
talking to that woman with the cameraman? Keep her in the garden until I signal
to you from the garden gate. Then bring her out into the alley.”

“Talk? What about?”

She frowned. “I don’t know, think of something, Put the
moves on her. Give her a guided tour of the Kama Sutra as recreated in a back
yard off Marine Drive. Dear God, these people have no shame.” She looked in
disbelief through the back door at the couples squirming all over the garden.

Randy studied her. “What?”

“Don’t tell anybody who you are.” When he scowled she
thought,
Hell, I’m doing to him what
Virgil did to Griffy. Taking away his name. Making him a nonperson.
“I
mean, you can call yourself Lord Darner. You’re still undercover.”

“This I can perform.” He lifted his chin, tugged the lapels
of the orange velvet coat, and swaggered out the kitchen door.

I’m getting better at
managing him.
“Now where the heck is Clay?”

“Right behind you,” Clay’s voice said faintly. She turned to
find him transfixed, watching Randy. “Where in the world did he get those
clothes?”

“Virgil’s closet.”

“I can’t decide if it’s Carnaby Street or Mardi Gras.”

“Pay attention,” Jewel said. She handed Clay the videotape. “Burn
this.”

Clay stared. “I’ve been searching the whole house for that.
Did Virgil let you into his room after all? Because that door was so locked,
even I couldn’t pick it.”

“I pennied it shut.”

“You what?”

Jewel squinted. “Holy magooley, is that Buzz over there?”

“Hey, was that the mask you were wearing before?”

“Yeah. Blue and white stripes,” she said, staring. Leaning
his partner against the brick garden wall, a naked Buzz humped as if his life
depended on it. Jewel made a
euw
face. “Will you look at the tattoos on her.”

The tattooed woman seemed enthused. She and Buzz were having
a good time. Jewel shook her head, then shook it harder. Some pictures weren’t
meant to be given headroom.

“Listen, Clay, we need to orchestrate this press conference.
Beulah and the Self Love ladies are out there somewhere. Randy’s got the camera
crew nailed down, I hope—” A glance in Randy’s direction showed her that his
lordly charm was doing its usual good work on the society reporter. “Great.
Your job is to get Buzz decent and out in the alley by the time the reporter
goes out there to interview Kauz.”

Clay scowled. “And how do I do that? Tap him on the shoulder
and say ‘May I cut in?’”

“Remind him that I promised to take off that tracer anklet
if he shows up at the press conference and does his bit.”

“That ought to work,” Clay said. “Anything else?”

She stood there, blinking. Clay seemed calm.
He’s working with me. Like he’s my partner.
She smiled. “That’s all I can think of.”

He glanced at Randy and the reporter. “I’d guess we have
about ten minutes.”

The cameraman was getting closeups on the orgy. Bare flesh
flashed unattractively under the wobbly flood-light. But the reporter had her
hand on Randy’s crushed-velvet orange sleeve.

Jewel gave Clay thumbs-up.

He pulled her close, kissing her in a clinch that made her
head swim. “Little hint,” he said, as she punched his arm. “Con artists and
undercover cops do not ‘thumbs-up’ each other in front of the marks.” He
released her with a pat on the fanny.

Okay, his manner could
use work.
But, by golly, it was nice to have someone she could rely on.

She sent Randy another glance as she stepped over naked
partiers and passed through the alley gate.
Two
someones.

For a miracle, Beulah had her group organized. They were at
the garage door of the house across the alley, sucking down raw oysters and
drinking beer. Jewel hissed, “Meet me in ten minutes right over there by
Virgil’s garage.”

Beulah bobbed her turquoise feathered head.

“Say, I found out where Buzz has been getting that potion.
It’s that guy over there, with the Venus Machine. Dr. Kauz. He wants to run for
mayor because he’s such a great magician.”

Beulah trilled, “Oh, is
he
the mysterious doctor? How marvelous to meet him at last!”

“He’ll need your testimonials,” Jewel said, feeling evil.

“We’ll be there! Won’t we, girls?”

The other masked Self Love ladies bobbed their feathers.

Jewel saw Virgil’s red mask crossing the alley. She came up
beside him. He was staring at Randy’s peacocky high-disco costume. Below the feathers,
his mouth trembled, and the old turtle eyes blinked. Then he turned and
blundered past Jewel, almost knocking her down.

This ought to be good.
I wonder which one he’s running to?

She followed. To her delight, he sought out Griffy where she
leaned against the opposite alley wall, watching the back of Kauz’s medicine
show. Kauz’s voice could be heard, ballyhooing the marvelous Venus Machine over
the noise of the crowd and music coming from up and down the alley.

The green feathered figure turned toward the red one, then
jerked her shoulder.

Jewel couldn’t resist. She worked her way close enough to
eavesdrop.

“Please,” she overheard Virgil say. “Give me another chance.
You don’t often hear me say that.”

Griffy’s feathers shook,
No.

“You haven’t let me explain,” Virgil said, raising his
voice, and Griffy put up a palm. “I was never going to marry Sovay. She’s a
mark. She’s got twenty million dollars and she’s a crook. If I take her, she
can’t go to the cops.”

Griffy still looked stiff and furious, even under the
enveloping mask, and Jewel held her breath.

“I saw you flying in that contraption yesterday and I
realized something. It’s you,” he said, moving closer to her. “It’s always been
you. Griffy, I don’t know how to tell you how I feel—”

She pushed him away with a shriek and stood up, pulling off
her mask at the same time. The woman under the mask was Sovay.

“You
scum!”
she
shrieked, spitting out something she’d been eating. “How
dare
you abuse my trust! Bastard! Monster! Heartless, heartless
bastard!”

At every
bastard
something flew out of her mouth and landed on the alley bricks. The partiers
nearby drew back. A woman screamed, and more of them drew back. A clear space
widened around Sovay where she half-crouched, spitting with rage.

Jewel looked down at the bricks. Half a dozen toads and
snakes squirmed there.

She reached up and yanked out one of her own feathers. Gold
and black. She was wearing Sovay’s mask!

“You shriveled old monster! Nobody wants you!” A stream of
reptiles shot out of Sovay’s mouth like sluggish bullets.

Virgil backed away, looking down at the menagerie
accumulating at his feet, and bumped into Jewel.

Jewel told him, “I hate to tell you this, but I think you’re
gonna have to repeat that tender speech.” Virgil spun around. She said, “You
knew I was listening, and you thought I was Sovay. You wanted Sovay to hear.”
Virgil was still watching Sovay give a diva-grade performance. “So I guess your
plan worked. But will Griffy ever hear that speech for real?”

Virgil looked at her. His turtle eyes were round with some
emotion. Then he blundered away through the crowd.

That’s weird. I didn’t
see what he was thinking.

Sovay watched with indignation as Virgil fled.

The society reporter and her cameraman came through the
Thompson garden gate, followed by Randy.

Kauz, who must have been watching for the camera light,
raised his voice. “My name is Gustavus Katterfelto Kauz,” he pronounced. “And
this is my magnificent Venus Machine!”

The camera moved into the alley in front of the open
Thompson garage. Jewel peered over the heads of the crowd.

Kauz spread his arms in a victorious gesture for the camera.

“You!” Sovay shoved forward. “You did this to me!”

The camera swiveled toward her just as a bunch of little
snakes and toads flew out of her mouth and plopped on the ground.