Bar by bar, I lined it up. I got my thumbnail into each one, even my teeth. Nice and soft. Beautiful gold. Eighteen lovely fifty-pound bars of it! It lay there glowing.
Suddenly, I could not bear to part with any of it! I would find other means of financing my trip! Reverently, I put it all away.
I went down the tunnel to see Faht Bey. I explained to him how urgent the trip was and that it could and would be very expensive.
Faht Bey sat there at his desk, holding his head in his hands. Try as I might, I couldn't shake him loose from any money. I did manage to get a mutter that the Lebanese was over at the hospital.
Well, it was time I had a showdown with this Lebanese! He'd helped wreck the banking business in Beirut and now he was wrecking mine!
He was in the basement!
There was a little office just inside the secret entrance—it had heavy bars and wire nets across it, something new! You couldn't get into it with a blastgun! A maze of bulletproof glass to push things through, a big swing basket for heavy objects. You had to get down and shout through the glass maze to communicate with the cashier! Something, I guessed, that he'd learned in the Lebanon revolt!
"I want some money!" I yelled through the maze.
He sat there behind it and looked awfully deadly. He was bright yellow, no hair and only a couple of fangs left. "No money!"
Right on his desk, in plain view where he'd been counting it, were stacks and stacks of money! I never saw so much money in one pile. U.S. dollars, British pounds. Even some diamonds!
"Some gangsters have arrived!" I yelled at him. "I see the evidence!"
He threw some blank account sheets on top of the money. "Only ten so far!"
"There were two hundred on that list!" I yelled through the maze.
"They're scheduled, spaced into the future. Some of them had to rob banks before they arrived!"
"But ten," I yelled through the maze, "must mean you have collected a million so far! The price was a hundred thousand U.S."
"This place cost a million!" he snarled back through the maze. "We're not covering running expenses yet!"
I heard something to my left and right. I looked up. Two automatic-shotgun muzzles protruded from remote-control turrets. They were pointing straight at me. The Lebanese had his hand on a button that apparently controlled them.
I left.
I sat outside in the dilapidated Ford station wagon. The unfairness of it was very plain. I was making money for the base in rivers! They still had one hundred and ninety gangsters still to remodel! They had nineteen million U.S. in plain sight over the coming weeks or months and already had a whole million!
Aha! Mudlick Construction!
I drove madly to their office. I told the manager to fork over.
"They've got money?" he said.
"They can pay you in cash for the first job this minute!"
He drove madly to the hospital.
He came back.
He handed me a quarter of a million!
I madly stuffed it into a paper sack. A big one. It was half what I was due but he had only been paid half.
We shook hands beamingly.
I drove home.
Utanc was out. Melahat was cleaning her room. Utanc apparently had swallowed the tale about grandmothers. Her attitude toward me during the past week was as usual—nonexistent. Ah, all that would change!
Melahat was sort of hanging around to lock up the room and I didn't have a chance to plant the bug well. I pretended to be inspecting for cleanliness and kicked it under the carpet.
I went to my room and set up the audio-transmitter-responder for it. I fiddled a bit with the telescope but the directions were right. I could see through a wall a hundred feet away but no closer. Ah, well, it would do for New York!
I phoned Prahd. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, he said. There had been a little delay, other business coming in. But if I would be there around eight, he would deliver "the two packages." He said the bandages were ready to come off. I said to leave them on.
I fended his query about pay. Later, if the job was perfect.
That night I dreamed of Heller being dropped from high places, being squashed between two trains engaged in a head-on collision and being boiled in oil by Manco Devils. Wonderful dreams!
And then, just before dawn, the most beautiful dream of alclass="underline" lovely Utanc stealing into my bed. It was a dream I meant to become reality!
At eight on the dot, I was at the hospital side entrance. The two little boys were brought out by two deaf-mutes Prahd had hired.
I was quite surprised. The two little boys simply sat down in the front seat where a pointed finger told them to sit. They were all wrapped up in bandages. They seemed very still.
I was prepared. Down the road in a quiet place I stopped. "Which is Rudy?" I said.
They didn't answer. So I did an eenie-meenie-minee-mo. I had the photos from Illustrated Lives that Prahd had used. I put the photo of Rudolph Valentine on one and the photo of James Cagney on the other.
I had some colored ribbons and some tags. I wrote To my darling Utanc. Unwrap carefully. From Sultan Bey, on each tag.
Although I had brought the .44 Magnum Colt, there didn't seem to be any need of it. The two little boys just sat there in their bandages, very quiet.
I drove into the yard. Utanc's BMW was sitting there—she was home.
I took the two little boys quietly into the patio. I stood them by the fountain. I made a final adjustment of the gay ribbons. Then I kicked them!
They screamed!
I withdrew.
Utanc's bars came off with a clang.
Her door opened!
The two little boys fled to her like streaks!
Gleefully, I made my way to the audio activating unit. I turned it on.
Silence!
No, some slight background sound. I thought the rig wasn't working. I hastily got out the directions—I had not read them before.
This bug was designed to be put on top of picture frames. It said never put it under muffling objects. Gods, I'd put it under a rug! Blast!
I turned up the gain all the way. Just an occasional sound when a voice was raised sharply. Blast! I could get no data on her reaction!
She didn't come speeding to my room to thank me. Not enough coming through on this bug to determine anything.
Almost an hour passed and a tense hour it was!
Then, what was that sound? Water running? Yes, water running.
Then, suddenly, a song. Utanc was singing! She sang:
Come wash my back, little Rudy.
Hand me the soap, little James.
Kiss me and make me less moody.
Hug me and call me sweet names.
Then we will go in the bedroom,
And I'll teach you more lovely games.
I almost sobbed with relief. They obviously had some youthful resemblance to the movie stars. Everything was all right!
I had been under such a strain, I had hardly eaten at all the whole week. I made them bring me a marvelous early lunch. Platters of hunkar begendi ("His Majesty liked it"), stewed lamb with chopped eggplant, kadin gobegi ("woman's navel") for dessert. I washed it all down with pitchers of sira and then sat back to drink my kahve. Marvelous.
About two in the afternoon, the bug went live again. I hung over the receiver. A cymbal clash? Yes, another and another and another. Some kind of a dance!
And then Utanc's voice came through very loudly. She was pleased. She was singing:
One little kiss went to market,
One little sigh stayed home.
One little hug went, "Weep, weep, weep!"
And all of them gasped in the foam.
I didn't know quite what to make of it. Maybe the bug was defective. I had never heard that nursery rhyme before.
With lots of preparatory things to do such as costumes and counting money, I whiled away the time, expecting Utanc would come flying in at any moment to thank me.
Evening came. Well, shy as she was, she would be waiting for night. I took a bath. I held dinner. Then, at length, I ate it by myself. It didn't taste very good.