by V. J. Banis
“Dancer,” he said aloud, giving his best toothpaste-commercial smile. “Ballroom, ballet, tap, underwater —you name it, I dance it.”
The Greek seemed amused, although slightly doubtful. “Mr. Bigelow is out just now. If you’d like to fill out one of these forms, I’ll see that he gets it.”
“But aren’t you even going to let me audition for you? I’m really quite good. You’ve never danced until you’ve tripped about with me.” Aside from wanting to get his hands on all that lovely Mediterranean flesh, Jackie had a hunch it might be worth his while to become friendly with this one. He might need someone to encourage Mr. Bigelow’s interest in him.
The dark-haired one stood up and looked Jackie up and down slowly, as though making up his mind. Then, with another grin, he walked to a turntable built into one of the shelves and thumbed through a few records.
“Do you waltz?” he asked.
“Viennese?”
“Russian.”
“Of course.” Jackie counted out the beat as the music began, scratchy and a little off pitch, but a good record nonetheless. He opened his arms, and the Greek came into them. For a second Jackie had his doubts as to who was going to do what, but the Greek made it plain he was going to lead, and Jackie followed happily. This way he didn’t have to worry about steering or watching the road, he had his hands free to play with the gadgets...although gadget seemed less appropriate than weapon. He was beginning to understand the symbolism of all those columns they had used in their architecture.
The record ended and the Greek went back to the phonograph. “How about a tango?” Jackie suggested. It was his turn to make a challenge.
“French?” That was the common one, and the easier of the choices.
“Argentine,” Jackie said instead.
The Greek was surprised, but he didn’t hesitate. The music began, and a minute later he was back, leading Jackie off at once into a sultry, torrid dance routine that had Jackie’s blood boiling.
“Are you as good horizontally?” Jackie asked as his partner bent him far back and down, until his head almost touched the floor.
For an answer, his companion danced him silently across the office, circling the reception desk. With one flick of his wrist he deftly opened the door that led into the inner office. Jackie followed happily as he was piloted inside; the door closed after them. They were promenading in the direction of the huge divan against one wall. Unless he was sadly mistaken, he was about to have a lesson in “The Greek Style.”
Short though his partner might have been, he was plenty strong, and he was still “leading.” He lowered Jackie easily to the divan, kneeling over him. Instinctively Jackie lifted his face to kiss his partner. The kiss was neatly avoided, although the dark-haired youth was busy baring Jackie from the waist down.
Jackie remembered then his last experience with any of this one’s countrymen. When it came to boys, they were game for sex any way but sideways. But they didn’t go for any of that queer stuff like kissing! Oh, well, he thought philosophically, better half a loaf than none at all. Which was an appropriate thought, for at that moment his loaves were being treated to an ardent and pointed attention.
His friend was like a bull in more ways than one. In typical Mediterranean fashion, he was anything but gentle in his approach, a lusty, carved-marble battering ram that went straight for its destination, without any fooling around. Jackie felt the wind knocked out of his body as he was shoved back against the divan forcefully, his legs held high and wide apart in the Greek’s brawny arms.
Yet despite the ferocity of his brutal attack, he had other ways of showing concern and affection. All the while his throbbing attention was threatening to split Jackie asunder, his big hands were fondling and stroking Jackie tenderly, and he had begun to whisper sweet nothings that, remembered afterward, would sound downright silly, but for the moment were so romantic and heartwarming that they all but made one forget what was happening out back.
The room spun crazily as Jackie surrendered himself to the sweet agony of the experience. Rarely had he ever felt so fulfilled, or been so thrilled. There was nothing halfway about his partner, or his technique. It was a complete taking, that demanded an equal giving.
The Greek had pushed Jackie’s shirt up, and as his ardor grew into a raging fire, he bent closer, biting at the small, dusky nipples on Jackie’s chest. Jackie threw his head back in delirious pleasure. He felt the surging finish approaching, groaned as the caresses became even more thorough and then, in an ultimate achievement, accepted the homage of his convulsive lover.
Jackie’s success was complete. Not only did he feel utterly sated, but he had won himself a job as well.
“I’ll see to it that you get some work,” the Greek, who had finally introduced himself as Nick, said afterward. “There’s a special show on for Friday night. I’ll see that you’re in it.”
Jackie’s pulse quickened. Friday night was the scheduled time for the assassination referred to in the note. Was there a connection?
“Don’t worry, he will do as I suggest,” Nick answered with a grin. “I can be very persuasive.”
Jackie grinned too. One could hardly blame Mr. Bigelow for being henpecked. It would be pretty difficult not to do as Nick suggested.
CHAPTER NINE
Craig listened to Jackie’s story with interest. Jackie had omitted the details of his “friendship” with Nick, and had gone directly to the business of the upcoming special show. “I think it might be a lead,” he said finally.
Craig shook his head grimly. “More so than you think. It could be merely a coincidence, but there is a benefit show being staged Friday night, for Viet Nam war orphans. I’d forgotten about it until now.”
“Do you think it ties in with the assassination?”
“It very well might. There will be some important people there. As a matter of fact, the guest of honor will be my boss, the head of the C.I.A.”
“Duval himself?” Jackie was astonished.
“He’ll be in a special box. If they were planning to assassinate him, they couldn’t pick a better opportunity.”
“We could warn him right now....” Jackie paused thoughtfully. “But would he believe us? It’s a farfetched scheme. And even if he did take our word for it, we’d take a chance on letting the Butterfly agents get away.”
“We’re taking a chance either way. If we let them go ahead with their plan, and then fail to stop them when the time comes, we’ll both feel pretty rotten.”
“I’m confident we won’t fail,” Jackie assured him. “But I’ll leave the decision to you. On one hand, you’ve a chance to score a real coup against Butterfly. On the other, you’re gambling with your entire career.”
He knew the answer even before Craig spoke. “Go ahead and take that job with the show. And keep your eyes and ears wide open.”
Jackie was relieved by the decision. He had been eager to get to work on the case. Each difficulty was to him merely another challenge, an obstacle to be surmounted through the use of his wits. Failure was a possibility he never allowed himself to consider.
“How are you at heart-to-heart talks?” Craig asked unexpectedly.
“Best shoulder in the world,” Jackie answered. For the first time he realized that Craig seemed strangely preoccupied.
Craig also seemed embarrassed, as though he was forcing himself to explain. “You know about Mari and me?” he began, noting Jackie’s quick nod. “Well, it was just a matter of being horny—at least, that’s what I thought at the moment. Now I’m not so sure that I didn’t have another motive, which I just wouldn’t admit to myself.”
“Such as?”
Craig was becoming increasingly embarrassed. “Well, I’ve never been around any...you know, gay fellows before. And if someone had said to me that someday I’d be curious about...well, how it was to do it with a guy...I’d have laughed at him. Now, all of a sudden, something crazy has happened. Believe me, I never thought I’d actually feel attracte
d to a fellow, no matter how special he was.”
“And you are?” Jackie was amazed. He had not realized that Craig felt that way about him.
“I’m not sure. I still haven’t made up my mind.”
“Well, do me one little old favor,” Jackie said with a pleased grin. “When you decide, just make sure I’m the first to know.”
Craig seemed grateful that Jackie was taking all this in stride, without any I-told-you-so remarks. “I promise,” he said quietly.
Jackie had been instructed to report to a downtown theater for a rehearsal of the show. When he arrived, an acrobatic act was being rehearsed on the stage. Nick saw him and came to greet him, accompanied by an auntie-ish individual who turned out to be Mr. Bigelow.
“Nick tells me your movements are quite phenomenal,” Mr. Bigelow remarked. For the life of him, Jackie couldn’t tell whether the man was referring to dancing or sex. Nick was grinning from behind Mr. Bigelow, obviously enjoying Jackie’s uncertainty.
“They’ll never be as good as Nick’s,” Jackie answered finally, pleased to see the grin disappear from Nick’s face as Mr. Bigelow gave him a quick frown.
He took his place off stage and waited for his turn on stage to come up. As he waited and watched, he saw Mr. Bigelow and Nick disappear into an office backstage. Glancing about to be certain no one was watching him, Jackie followed them.
“It’s all set,” Mr. Bigelow was saying as Jackie paused outside the door, straining to hear the conversation. “The performers will leave here in the limousine, but Andre will have been replaced by a different driver. That way, we’re in the clear. The driver will kidnap them and take them to that empty farmhouse outside the city. In the meantime, the other troupe, in an identical limousine, will take their place at the theater. You know the rest.”
Jackie tensed with excitement. So this was it—the show was to be the opportunity for the assassination, and he now knew how it was going to be arranged. Now, if he could only learn just when during the show, and how....
To his dismay, one of the two had flicked on a radio inside, drowning out the sound of their voices. Jackie remained where he was, straining, but he could near nothing over the jazz music playing. He glanced around again. At the moment, no one was near. He bent and looked through the keyhole.
He understood why they had suddenly wanted to cut off any sounds from inside. They had finished with the other business, and were now busy with a different kind of business, one that was attached to the lower part of Nick’s husky torso.
The handsome Greek’s trousers had been pushed down about his ankles, leaving him naked from waist to feet. His hair-shaded legs were spread wide apart, his hands on his thrust-forward hips. And Mr. Bigelow was hungrily kissing the awesome sight that intruded in front of him.
Jackie tingled with excitement as he saw the scene. Part of the excitement came from the memory of Nick’s body, and the wish that he could be in Bigelow’s place; but there was more than that. As Bigelow’s head pulled back, away from Nick’s abdomen, Nick’s flesh was exposed in full glory. Thanks to their positions, Jackie had not really gotten a look the other time, although he had certainly wanted to. Now, however, even at this distance he could easily make out the mark on it, the tattoo.
It was unmistakably the Butterfly design. He had assumed Nick was only a hustler, a current trick of Bigelow’s. Now he realized that Nick was a member of Butterfly, and high up in the hierarchy. The tattoo was worn only by those in the upper echelons.
There was a sound nearby, and Jackie sprang to his feet. Someone had come off the stage, and Jackie moved away from the office before he could be noticed. He wasn’t going to learn any more just now. But at least he knew enough to begin making a few plans of his own.
* * * *
“Do you think it will work?” Craig remained unconvinced, although the others were in enthusiastic accord.
“I don’t see why it shouldn’t,” Aunt Lily said bluntly. “It sounds foolproof to me.”
“Well, not exactly foolproof.” Jackie was quick to ward off any arguments. “But if everyone does his part properly, we should make it work. Now, let’s go over it once again.”
Everyone became quite serious, listening silently and attentively as Jackie explained the scheme for the fourth time.
“They’re planning on kidnapping the real troupe,” he said. “Of course, I’ll be along with them. My job will be to get rid of their driver, and deliver the original performers to the theater instead of the substitute troupe.”
He paused to look around and assure himself that each of them was with him so far. “All right. Now, in the meantime, Craig will be with his boss—that’s our insurance policy, just in case everything else fails.”
“I’d still rather be doing something more active,” Craig protested.
“And we could use you. But we need you where you’ll be. We have to know that, no matter what else happens, you won’t fail in protecting your boss.”
Craig grunted. “I guess you’re right,” he admitted grudgingly.
“That means,” Jackie went on, “that we have to get rid of the other troupe they’ve prepared, the phony performers. Aunt Nasturtia, that’s where you and Mari come in. You must understand, it’s dangerous. You are to do nothing directly. All we want is for you to delay them. Get lost, or whatever is necessary, to allow me to get the others there first. If the other performers are already on stage when they arrive, there won’t be much they can do. And anyway, by that time I’ll be there waiting for them.”
“And we’ll be there too,” Aunt Lily said proudly.
“That’s right. You, Honey, and Gladiola will be at the theater, as reserve troops. If there’s any delay in my arrival, Honey, you’ll have to save the day by going on stage and pretending to be the opening act of the show.”
“Don’t worry,” Honey assured him. “They’ll think they’re listening to Von Clabborn.”
It was, Jackie decided, a simple enough plot. The only likelihood of failure was in Aunt Nasturtia’s hands. And he had an idea for minimizing that.
He had already learned that the phony troupe would be leaving from Bigelow’s office, and he had seen the Cadillac limousine that he suspected would be used to deliver them to the theater. It was not difficult to find an identical limousine, and with a little work, it was converted into a fine booby trap.
“Now,” he said, showing the results to Aunt Nasturtia. “If anything goes wrong—if there’s any trouble from the people you’re driving—you have only to press this switch, and the rear of the car will immediately be filled with knockout gas. It’s harmless, but it will put them to sleep in seconds.”
“What if they jump out of the car?”
“Impossible. This second switch electrically locks all the doors. They can’t get out until you let them out from the front. And the window between the driver’s compartment and the rear is bulletproof. Just be certain that it’s up at all times.”
“Now let me see,” Aunt Nasturtia said, mentally reviewing all that she had been told. “How am I going to get them in the car?”
“That’s Mari’s part,” Jackie explained again. “They’re expecting a limousine to pull up at the rear door for them. But when the right one arrives, Mari will approach the driver and persuade him to take her to the other side of the parking lot. As soon as they pull away, you’re to pull up to the door and honk the horn for the performers. If anyone asks about your impatience, you’ll show them your watch, which will be ten minutes fast, and explain that they’re late.”
“Then all I do is drive around?” Nasturtia said.
“Until eight forty-five. By that time, I should be there. But you’ll hear the signal. They’re broadcasting the entire show, and the opening act, by luck, is a pianist. He’ll play the ‘Bolero.’ When you hear that, you’ll know it’s safe to bring them to the theater.”
It was, then, a simple enough plot—assuming, of course, that everything went as planned.
&nbs
p; CHAPTER TEN
As the time of the special benefit show drew nearer, Jackie grew uneasy. Was he only being silly, or was his intuition right in warning him of problems? Whichever it was, however, he kept such thoughts to himself, maintaining a show of cheerful confidence so far as the others were concerned, Craig particularly.
Craig remained unhappy over the fact that he would not be in the action at all, but he accepted Jackie’s judgment on the matter. It was essential to have the added insurance—they could not afford to fail in protecting Duval.
Time came at last for Jackie to depart for the practice theater, where the car would pick up the performers and allegedly deliver them to the plush Herald theater, where the show was taking place. Jackie went over the plans with the others one last time. Gladiola, Honey, and Lily were to go directly to the Herald theater, and be prepared to do whatever might prove necessary to assist the others. Craig, of course, would be meeting his superior, and would accompany him. And Mari and Aunt Nasturtia were to follow Jackie to the practice theater, where they would arrange their kidnapping feat.
At last, convinced that he had done all he could do, Jackie packed a bag with the costume he would wear and departed in a cab for Bigelow’s theater.
The other performers were already there, busily dressing or making-up. It had been planned that the performers would ready themselves here, prior to being driven to the special show. Jackie joined the various male entertainers in the dressing room and quickly changed into the tights and jersey that would be his costume for the evening.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you perform before,” one of the entertainers addressed him as Jackie applied his make-up. “Have you worked in this area much?”
“Not at all,” Jackie answered truthfully, careful not to make a statement that would trip him up. “I’ve been working on the West Coast, and just came into town recently.”
“Well, good luck,” the man said. He was, Jackie knew from rehearsals, a singer, and something of a loner. He seemed, from time to time, to be cruising, but it was hard to say for certain. At another time, Jackie would probably have made it a point to determine whether he was or not. At the present, however, he had other things on his mind.
