"Are you all right?" I called down to the girl.
"Yes. I missed my stop. But it's probably better this way. I can get out through the basement."
"So long, then." I waved goodbye and resumed my quest for the other members of S.M.U.T.
Jock O'Steele was easy to find. I just listened outside a few doors until I heard the sound of running water. My light picked up a girl wearing only pasties and a G- string. She was lying on the bed alone. I guessed this must be Bubbles.
"Where's Jock?"
"Taking a shower. Can't you hear him?"
I certainly could. A booming, off-key rendition of A Pretty Girl Is Like a Melody was coming through the bathroom door. "How come he's singing?" I wondered aloud.
"If you really want to find out -" Bubbles stretched insinuatingly.
"Sorry, I don't have the time. But are you trying to tell me that he – umm – made it with you?"
"And how!" She held up four fingers.
"Then how come he's taking a shower now?" I was confused.
"He told me he believed in moderation so he was gonna take a cold shower to prove to himself he still had the will power to stop."
"I'll be damned." I crossed over to the bathroom door and banged on it with my fist. "Jock. It's me, Steve."
The sound of rushing water stopped, and the door opened. Jock looked shamefaced but rebellious as he confronted me.
"S.M.U.T.'s got trouble," I started to tell him. "We have to-"
But he interrupted me. "The hell with S.M.U.T.!" he said. "I resign! I've fallen off the wagon. And I don't give a damn what you think."
"I don't think anything," I assured him. "Your secret's safe with me if you want it to be. I don't blame you one little bit. But that's aside from the point right now." I explained to him about the hoods gunning for us.
"Don't worry. We'll get out," he assured me, flexing his muscles, which were indeed impressive. "We'll use Bubbles here for a decoy." He outlined his plan to me as he got dressed.
A few minutes later Bubbles sashayed down the staircase with a lit candle in her hand. She spotted the hood at the bottom of the stairs and wiggled over to him. Then, holding her candle in front of her, she went into a slow, sexy bump-and-grind routine. The hood's eyes bugged out as he watched her.
With him distracted, Jock and I crept down the stairs. Jock moved over right in back of the gunman and raised his fist. He brought it down just once – hard. The hood crumpled on the floor, unconscious.
But neither Jock nor I saw the second gunman coming out of the parlor. I had shined the light on the unconscious hood, and as I raised it the beam inadvertently focussed on Jock. Two shots rang out before I could douse the light. By that time Bubbles was already trying to drag Jock out of what had been the line of fire.
I helped her as she felt her way into a closet. She closed the door silently behind us, and I turned on the light again, shielding it with my hand. One look was enough to see that Jock had had it.
He looked up at Bubbles with a big smile. He winked. And then he died. I do believe he died happy.
I let Bubbles slip out of the closet first. After a moment or two, I followed. It was still pitch black, and I didn't dare use the light. There was no telling where those killers might be.
I went back up the stairs. It didn't take me long to find the third of the S.M.U.T. girls, the blonde. She was putting on a little show for some of the men in an upstairs parlor. About two dozen candles had been arranged in a circle to light up her playing area.
As I entered, she was just dousing herself with lighter fluid from head to toe. She held one foot daintily over one of the candle flames and immediately her body burst into a flaming torch. She moved quickly around the circle, blazing away, her nudity peeping through the crackling flames.
I saw through the impressive stunt. It's a fact that if the body moves fast enough to create a semi-vacuum in its wake, only the fluid on the surface and not the flesh itself will burn. But the other men were awed by it. "That's the hottest show I ever saw," one of them remarked as she rolled on the floor to put out the fire before it was too late.
The show wasn't over yet, though. Now she applied the same principle to specific portions of her anatomy. She sat in a bowl of the lighter fluid and lit up her derriere. Then she did it to one breast, twirling it quickly so the flames wouldn't scorch it. It was quite a sight, with the long, red nipple quivering in the flames. She repeated it with the other breast, and then she was ready for the grand finale.
"I need a volunteer," she said, as she poured handfulls of lighter fluid over the curly triangle beneath her belly.
I had to get to her somehow, so I volunteered.
"Make love to me," she instructed, lying down on the floor.
Under ordinary circumstances, that wouldn't have been any hardship – but these weren't exactly ordinary circumstances. Nevertheless, I did my best to comply. The murmurs from the onlookers said my best was more than adequate.
"Now," she panted, "move very hard and fast."
I did as she said, and she reached out for a candle and ignited the lighter fluid- covered area. Immediately, she began moving like a motor being raced. I hurried to keep up with her, prodded by a sudden singeing from the flames flaring up where we were joined. I found that if I followed her rhythm, I wouldn't be burned.
So I followed her rhythm. All the way. And with one final surge of passionate release, we put out the fire.
"Come with me," I murmured to her as we clasped each other in the moment of exhaustion following our exertions. "They've caught wise to S.M.U.T., and there are gunmen after you."
Her eyes got very wide, and she followed me out of the room unquestioningly. We stopped off in another room for a moment while she threw on some clothes and I explained the situation more fully to her. After that, figuring the dumbwaiter was worth another try, I started to lead her to it.
Halfway there, my flashlight beam picked up one of the hoods standing guard at the dumbwaiter. Mrs. Vendergash must have tipped him off to its possibilities as an escape route. I pulled the blonde back around the bend in the hallway before we were spotted.
The question was what to do now. The other bullyboy was bound to be conscious again by now and covering the staircase. How was I going to get the blonde out?
The sight of a fireplace in the room inspired an answer. I lay down on my back and peered up the chimney. It was quite wide, and I could see a couple of stars dotting the top of it. "I wonder what the roof of this place is like?" I mused aloud.
"I've been up there," she told me, catching on fast. "There's a fenced-in sundeck for the girls there. And you can reach out and touch the fire escape of the building next door."
"Then let's go." I gave her a boost up the chimney.
It was easy climbing. The bricks had been staggered, probably for the benefit of a chimney sweep, and provided more than adequate footholds. A few moments later, covered with soot and looking like refugees from a minstrel show, we emerged from the mouth of the chimney and dropped the few feet to the roof. I helped the blonde onto the fire escape of the building next door, directed the light so she could see her way down, and then waved a goodbye. I wasn't sure she could see in the blackout.
I had to go back. There was still one more member of S.M.U.T. to be rescued: Singh Huy-eva. The thought of his name brought a curse to my lips as I went back down the chimney. It was more difficult going down than it had been coming up, and I slipped at one point. Only a fast grab saved me from joining Singh's rather exclusive fraternity. As it was, I skinned a few inches of fat from my derriere.
Fortunately, it wasn't too difficult to find him. He was inside the third room I tried. He was naked except for the white turban around his head. Tabby, the girl with him, was even more nude. She wasn't even wearing a turban.