She was nothing now but a flesh robot at his command, and weakly moved her limbs to comply with his shouts as best she could. Many long hours later she lay spread-eagled on the wet and soiled mattress that would be forever her bed of shame. The Andersson voice was still speaking in the distance as she faded to deep peaceful unconsciousness.
"Take a turn on her, somebody. She's not dead yet. I need some film with some imagination! See what all of you can do!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
Carlyle came over to where Tim Cartwright was sitting at a desk. Carlyle was a fat, balding man in his mid fifties, and was chewing on the stub of an unlit cigar as usual. He was Tim's immediate superior as long as Tim was at the New York head office, so Tim immediately put his pen down and looked up with an eager expression on his face.
"Yes, Sir?"
"How's it going, boy?"
"Fine. I'll have these figures out by tonight."
"Good, good." Carlyle spread his suit jacket open and thrust his thumbs into the armholes of his plaid vest. "You're doing a fine job for a trainee, Tim. A damned fine job."
"Thank you, Sir."
"You'll go far with Flynn, I don't mind predicting. But you'll have to learn more about entertaining customers, first."
"I… will?"
"Sure. That's half the job, showing the right guys a good time. Why, you've been cooped up in that musty hotel room of yours for weeks like you were a monk or something. Hell, you're in New York, and that's the finest city in the world for action."
"I know, Sir, but there's all the work. And my wife…"
"Hang your wife, Tim, and pardon my bluntness. I'm sure she's a darling sweet kid from all you've told me about her. But you're here and she's there, and the one don't have to know about the other."
"But…"
"No buts. Tonight you're coming to a little party of mine. You'll be assistant host, and I'll expect you to be on your toes. We're getting some girls to come up – expense account quiff for the fellows from Rudiger's Plumbing and Heating, because that's the kind of thing they call a good time, you see. Gotta look out for what your customers like as well as need, you know, boy. But there'll be one for you, too, don't worry. A tight-assed little redhead named Delores. You'll like Delores; she meets all the boats."
"I don't really think…"
"Oh, and you'll be in charge of the projector."
"The… projector, Sir?"
"Right. We've gotten in a real hot movie from the Coast. Had it smuggled in special for the home office library. Cost a mint, but it should be worth it. I understand this is the wildest fuck flick to come along since Edison photographed his wife in the bathtub."
Tim Cartwright swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling parched as though blocked with sand. Girls… and a sex movie! He felt a stirring in his loins that he hadn't felt since he'd left Melanie back in California weeks ago. "That does sound good at that!"
"Seven o'clock at my place. See you be there on time… Oh, and pick up the canister of film from Baynard on your way out tonight, will you?"
"Sure. What's its title?"
"GANG-BANG UNLIMITED! Yeah, that's it. GANG-BANG UNLIMITED. Has one girl and a cast of thousands. Haw hew haw!" Carlyle walked away, still chewing expansively on his dead cigar.
Tim picked up his pen again, his mind a turmoil. Christ, GANG-BANG UNLIMITED! He could hardly wait to see what the girl in it was like!