The Hinky Velvet Chair

by Jennifer Stevenson

  “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.

  Kauz clutched at his chest. “Mein Gott!”

  Sovay pointed a finger. “You’ve had me in that machine all evening! And look at me! Look what you’ve done to me!” Plop! Plop! Plop! Plop!

  The crowd gasped.

  The cameraman bobbed like a chicken pecking at flying grain, pointing at her face, then at the critters falling to the alley bricks. The reporter, dammit, came out of the garden gate just then. She’d missed everything!

  Jewel took her little green wriggly friend out of her pocket and tossed him with the old high-school accuracy.

  Just as the reporter turned to Kauz, the tiny green snake flew between them and landed on the reporter’s sleeve. The reporter looked at it and screamed. The camera swerved to her.

  Kauz brushed the snake off her sleeve. “No, no, it is not true. This unfortunate woman, she is inebriated, unhinged.”

  “Sir?” the reporter said, recovering and thrusting the microphone at him.

  He put his chin up. “I am Dr. Gustavus Katterfelto Kauz.”

  “Doctor, do you contend that this woman never received a treatment in the Venus Machine?”

  “Of course not!” Kauz stated.

  “Yes, she did!” someone yelled.

  “She took my turn twice!” yelled someone else.

  “You mean you have all been using this machine?” the reporter said, and the camera swung wildly between the Venus Machine and the crowd. Hands waved.

  “I did.”

  “Meee!”

  “I tried it.”

  “I did, too!”

  “How about those people in there?” She pointed into Virgil’s garden.

  “I assure you, they did,” Randy said without a blink.

  “I assure you.” Kauz wrung his hands. “She has never — she was never my client!”

  “Liar!” Sovay spat. “I was at your spa three days ago! You ignored me for that cow, but I was there, and I got twelve hundred dollars’ worth of your so-called treatments!” Snakes and toads showered onto her shoes.

  The crowd took one giant step back.

  Jewel heard retching all around her.

  This is perfect. Kauz will never run for mayor now.

  Jewel looked around for Beulah. Beulah waved, and Jewel beckoned her forward.

  Beulah stepped into the camera light. “Please,” she said, pulling off her mask with a flourish. “Friends!”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The noise level dropped. Spooky. In the camera assistant’s harsh, wobbly light, Beulah looked magnificent, fascinating, messy as hell, supremely confident, and totally nuts. In a likeable way. “Please, everyone!”

  Even the murmurers fell silent.

  “Friends, calm yourselves.” She signalled and the Self Love ladies unmasked. “We have benefitted from the doctor’s genius. He created the Self Love Potion! One dose will silence that poisonous voice that says, ‘You are ugly, you are old, you are undesirable.’” Beulah said thrillingly, “You are not ugly! You are beautiful!” She opened her arms. “Desire yourself, and everyone will desire you!”

  The partyers didn’t look happy, but Jewel noticed they didn’t run away. Toads hopped between their ankles, and snakes slithered past their shoes, unnoticed. Must be some potion.

  “Good people,” Kauz said. Sweat stood out on his bald forehead. “Let us be reasonable and think like scientists!”

  Oh, that’s going to get their interest.

  Past Kauz, Jewel saw Buzz, now wearing pants, Thank you, Clay, sneak behind the Venus Machine. Stealing something. That boy was the sharpest opportunist she’d ever met.

  The reporter stuck the microphone in Beulah’s face. “Ma’am, how long has it been since you visited a beautician?”

  “Ten glorious weeks!” Beulah announced. She had tremendous presence. She smiled, and Jewel felt the crowd around her relax.

  “Are you sure you can attribute your change of heart to Dr. Kauz’s potion?”

  “I can. As proof, I offer the testimony of my friends here, all of whom walked in the night of self-loathing before they received a dose. One single dose. The man is a genius!”

  One by o
ne, the Self Love ladies stepped forward. Mrs. Noah Butt from Water Tower Place was there, and Annette Perini, and Bunny from Giorgio lo Gigolo’s. The camera light wobbled over them. The gleeful reporter took sound bites from each one.

  “Then that’s why my customers don’t come back,” Kauz muttered, his brow furrowing.

  Another masked woman stepped into the light. “You told me that that potion was addictive,” she accused Kauz in Griffy’s voice. The camera swerved toward her. “You said that after one taste I would keep wanting more and more and more. You said I would never be free of you, and you would control me and make me a fire goddess and rule the city with sex and magic and power.”

  “Julia?” Kauz said, looking baffled.

  “But it’s not addictive!” Beulah protested. “We have all taken it,” she pointed to her friends, “just once! One dose, and we are free forever of the beauty industry’s tyrrany.”

  “Then the formula is wrong,” Kauz blurted.

  The reporter pointed her microphone at him. “Dr. Kauz, have you received permission from the FDA to sell this potion?”

  “Yes! I mean, no!” Kauz tried to stand tall, which made him about five foot four. “That is to say, there is no potion. I have never met any of these ladies before—”

  “Hey!” Sovay yelled.

  “— Except this unfortunate madwoman here, tonight only.”

  Jewel looked at Buzz, still lurking behind the Venus Machine. She stuck her thumb in the air.

  Buzz nodded. He called out, “Not so fast, Doc.” As the camera light swung toward him, he put his palm up to hide his zitty young face. “I seen you in your la-bore-atory lotsa times, and you had the potion, and you told me all about it. You said the customers would want a new dose every week. Only nobody ever ast for it again. I guess it worked permanent or somethin’.”

  You did? Jewel thought. Buzz, when are you going to quit lying to me?

  Kauz looked hunted. The reporter swung back to him.

  “Dr. Kauz, is this potion addictive? What are the withdrawal symptoms? Do you know of any side effects?”

  He exploded. “There are no side effects. Besides, potion is sold out, no more available.” He made an umpire’s ‘safe’ gesture with both arms. “There is no potion! And if there were, I would take it myself with complete confidence! Everything of my making is safe and wholesome!”

  “Not sold out yet!” Buzz called. He lobbed something over the Venus Machine. “Here ya go, Doc!”

  Beulah leaped into the air like Michael Jordan and caught it. “Buzz! You found more. How wonderful!”

  The reporter swerved to her.

  She showed her catch to the camera, then held it aloft.

  Another teeny little bottle.

  She turned her heart-warming smile on the camera. “Dr. Kauz’s masterpiece is harmless. It works permanently to bring one to perfect inner harmony and self-love. We are not addicted—” she gestured to her scruffy, smelly friends, who waved at the camera. “Except to loving ourselves!” She brandished the bottle. “This is the key to true beauty!”

  “How about that, Doc?” Buzz yelled.

  “Drink it, Doc!” someone yelled from the crowd.

  “Come, Doctor.” Beulah stalked toward Kauz with the bottle raised in both hands, like a high priestess bringing the offering knife. “You have given so much to so many unhappy lives. Will you not partake of your own bounty?”

  “Yeah, Doc,” Jewel called out, as Kauz edged away from the light. “If it’s harmless, you won’t mind trying it yourself.”

  The camera swung toward her, but she had her mask on, and the camera returned to Kauz.

  Kauz looked trapped. He blinked at the circle of watching faces. His face smoothed out more with every blink.

  “Very well. Natürlich, I will try it. You shall see.” He took the little bottle from Beulah and showed it to the crowd. “Behold!”

  He unscrewed the top. The cameraman swooped closer. Kauz put the bottle to his lips and swallowed dramatically.

  “Hey, Doc, you dropped your potion,” Jewel called out.

  The reporter looked down. The camera and floodlight moved with her. There in the puddle of light sat the potion bottle, still screwed shut, lying on the driveway.

  Everyone looked at Kauz.

  “I am scientist,” he squeaked. “How can I observe if I am part of der experiment?”

  “Dr. Kauz,” the reporter began. “Did you give an experimental drug to all these women—”

  But Kauz picked up the potion bottle, opened it, and, with a gray face, drank it down.

  Jewel took a deep breath. It was now or never for her secret weapon. “Yo, Gussie! Who are you?”

  Kauz blinked. His little round face seemed to close. Jewel realized that, behind the round glasses, his eyes were closed, too. Gosh, I hope he doesn’t croak from it. Then his eyes opened, and he smiled. He threw his arms wide.

  “I,” he said in a new voice, “am Gussie Kauz. And youse,” he pointed with both forefingers at the crowd, “are all beautiful!” His smile was splitting his face.

  For once he seemed almost, well, likeable.

  Uh-oh. The potion! Jewel glanced wild-eyed from the Self-Love Ladies to Kauz. I bet his green tones are going over the top. I should have thought of that! Now what?

  “That’s the man,” yelled a voice outside the circle of light. “That’s the guy that made a slut out of my wife!”

  Jack Allen, the condo developer with the bay-window gut, shoved forward through the crowd, a police officer at his side.

  Allen pointed at Kauz. “Arrest him!”

  The reporter and the cameraman fell back to let Allen and the cop through.

  “Sir, is this your equipment?” the cop said to Kauz.

  Kauz lifted his chin. “It soitenly is.” Soitenly? He sounded like Curly the Stooge. “You wanna make somethin’ of it?”

  “Dr. Kauz,” the reporter said, shoving forward. “You aren’t German, are you?”

  “On my mudder’s side. But!” He stood tall. “I am a soyentist.” His finger pointed at the sky. “And the woild’s greatest magician!”

  The cop explained to Kauz that he was under arrest for disturbing the peace and read him his rights. Then he ordered the garage door closed. Kauz nodded and smiled. The cop held him by the elbow, and Kauz marched away with his head high. The media team followed them down the alley.

  “Never fear, dear Doctor!” Beulah cried. “We will visit you in jail!”

  “My husband is an attorney!” called Mrs. Noah Butt.

  Jewel walked into the Thompson garage. “Everybody out, please,” she told the stragglers and closed the big door after them. That was one mission wrapped, anyway.

  Buzz popped up from behind the Venus Machine. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He pointed at his ankle.

  Clay came into the garage through the garden door with the key to the tracer anklet. “I thought that went well.”How do you unlock those things, and with what?

  Jewel beckoned to Buzz. Clay unlocked the tracer from the Buzz’s ankle and the kid rubbed himself, looking blissful.

  “You were great, Buzz,” she said warmly. “You’ll stay out of trouble now, right? Because you know how bad life can be if you don’t, right?”

  “I’m gonna be fine,” Buzz said. “My new girlfriend will take care of me.”

  “Your new what?”

  He puffed out his skinny chest. “I’m gonna be a gigolo!”

  “Buzz?” Someone knocked on the garage’s garden door. “Oh, there you are!” The woman with the tattoos came in, now wearing clothes, and took Buzz’s arm. “Bad boy! You need such a bath. Come home with me. We have a jacuzzi in the master suite.”

  “Uh,” Jewel said. “Buzz?”

  “You’re not the boss of me,” Buzz reminded her.

  She put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t get yourself—”

  Tattoo-woman shoved between them. “I beg your pardon, I’m Mrs. Jack Allen. Jack Allen, the deve
loper? He developed that condo building at the end of the block. Tell our hostess for me, thank you for a lovely party.” She ran a scornful glance up and down Jewel. “Come on, Buzz.” She scooped him up and they left.

  Jewel sighed. “If anything else happens tonight— !”

  Randy stuck his head in the door. “Jewel? Sovay seems very ill.”

  “I hope she chokes,” she muttered, but she followed Randy out into the alley behind the dumpster.

  A bedraggled Sovay knelt on the bricks, limp and hiccupping, sending baby reptiles out of her mouth with every ‘hic.’

  Jewel sighed. “Oh, hell. Come on inside. I’ll get you a drink.”

  “I am wanted in the collection room,” Randy said to Jewel.

  She waved him away. “I’ll deal with this.” He went.

  “Four times,” Sovay gasped. “I sat in the Venus Machine four times.” She seemed to have stopped retching, anyway.

  Four! Holy crap! What did it do to her?

  Jewel watched and waited.

  No horns sprouted from Sovay’s forehead. No steam came out of her ears.

  Disappointed, Jewel led her into the house.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The caterers had gone. The servants were in bed. In her deserted kitchen, Griffy sat at the window, too tired to take off her mask, watching lights flash and listening to the crowd roar in the alley. That high-pitched whirring noise still came from the air duct. Virgil would yell at her for not calling for repairs. She wished she had the guts to tell him another thing or two.

  Then Mellish came staggering into the kitchen from the back stairs, nursing his jaw. He saw her and stood up tall.

  He looked a lot less like a butler and more scary.

  “Is your partner around?” He felt his jaw again. “He packs a wallop. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t identify myself earlier, but this case has been a long time closing.” Then he pulled out his wallet and showed Griffy a shiny badge that said FBI.

  Her heart leaped into her throat.

  “Years,” Mellish said, fishing in the freezer. He pulled out a bag of frozen corn and laid it against his jaw. “Ow. We had our perp ID’ed early, but getting solid evidence has been a bitch and a half. We’re not asking you to put your case on hold. I’m almost ready to make my bust. Tomorrow maybe. Tonight if I get lucky. Work with me, okay?”