Heller said, "That's enough. Now listen, Margie. Why did you let him do that?"
"You told him to," said the girl.
"No, no, no!" said Heller. "Now you grab Bang-Bang's arms and start to rape him!"
The girl rose up and seized Bang-Bang with a will.
Bang-Bang simply threw his wrists up and the girl sailed halfway across the room!
Heller caught her in midair. He put her down and said to her, "Now, you do that."
Bang-Bang grabbed her. The girl threw her wrists up the same way Bang-Bang had. Bang-Bang went staggering.
"Hey!" the girl said. "He couldn't keep hold of me!" Heller sat the girl down in a chair. He said, "Now, listen. The main trouble whores have is getting abused physically. Getting beat up."
"According to Vantagio," said Bang-Bang, "it makes them amortize too fast. But he never thinks of guys like me!"
Heller ignored him. He said to the girl, "Now, what we're going to teach you first is how to shake any grip any man can put on you. Then we'll teach you how to attack. It's not easy."
"Especially on me," said Bang-Bang morosely.
Heller said to the girl, "With practice you can not only learn those things, you can also learn to appear to be under a man's control but actually remain completely able to handle him, drunk or sober. Get it?"
The girl's eyes were gleaming with enthusiasm. "Oh, yes! I promise I will study and practice hard! The other girls here absolutely love it! They say they never get beat up anymore."
"It's only me that gets beat up," said Bang-Bang with a groan.
Heller went over to pour them some Seven Up. The girl said to Bang-Bang in a low voice, "I should think he must have invented these tricks himself just to beat off all the girls. He's awful cute, Mr. Bang-Bang. Is it true like they say he's a virgin?"
I was in total, utter disgust. How Heller was conning them! Pretending these were things he had dreamed up! He was teaching them Voltarian unarmed combat! And he was a dithering fool, too! A whole houseful of beautiful women and he had been wasting his time teaching them how to protect themselves! A traitor to all men everywhere! How about all those who only got their kicks beating up whores? How about them? Thoughtless (bleepard).
A man must be masterful!
A tiny sound behind me!
My head whirled away from the telescope!
Standing on the roof just outside the access door, bathed in red light from below, was Margarita Pompom Pizzazz!
She was in a flowered bathrobe!
She looked like a sixty-year-old Demon from Hells!
What was that in her hand? A huge, lethal-looking weapon! A BB pistol!
She saw she was detected!
She raised the BB airgun!
In a snarling voice of hate she said, "Put up your hands, you Peeping Tom! This is your last chance or I'll shoot! Trifling with my affections! Breaching your promises!"
She gestured ferociously with the BB gun. "You're finished! I phoned the police there was a sniper on the roof! A SWAT team will arrive any minute and blow you to bits! So this is your last chance!"
I flinched. There were huge, standing air-conditioner units in place all around on the roof. If I could withdraw behind one...
I moved back!
She fired!
The pellet struck the side of the fragile telescope! Sparks from its electronics flew!
So did I!
I backed in a flash behind an air-conditioner stack.
She fired again!
I held on to the telescope. I might need it as a weapon!
Going crabwise, I drew further away, taking advantage of every square inch of cover!
She was following me up!
My head was in view for an instant.
The deadly pffft! of the air pistol coupled with the dang of the pellet striking sheet metal right beside my head!
She was a deadly marksman! A killer! Maybe a hit woman in her youth!
I skittered further! I took another peek. Bathrobe flaring like the cloak of an avenging horseman, she was following me up!
Another lethal pffft! and deadly clang!
Oh, this called for top Class A strategy! And a SWAT team on its way? This called for Joint Chiefs of Staff Maximum National Emergency Plan Triple X! Maybe atomic bombs!
I drew back in a wide circle through the maze of air conditioners.
In full cry, shouting, "Surrender now, you (bleepard)!" and "Geronimo!" each time she shot, she was following me up.
To get back to the roof-access door and escape, I had to cross three open spaces. I screwed up my courage. I dashed across the first one!
She fired! A miss.
I poised to cross the second. She was circling away from the access door to get a cleaner shot. I measured my timing perfectly. I dashed!
She fired! A miss!
I crouched behind an air conditioner. I looked at that last open area. Dangerous! I was taking my life in my hands! But I couldn't stay on that roof with this yowling Demon!
I braced myself. I dashed!
My rump was struck a mighty blow! It stung!
Seeing I had not received a mortal wound, I leaped into the stairwell!
I got the door closed just as another BB crashed against it!
I locked it from inside. Six steps at a time, I flew down the stairs!
Hammering on the roof door above! Frustrated howls of rage! They lent wings to my feet!
Twenty-two flights down, I burst into the lobby.
There was no one there. The commotion was all upstairs.
I snatched the door open, thankful that they were never locked from inside.
Into the dark street I sped. I crossed it.
Police cars!
Three abreast they were coming up the street!
My way was blocked!
I dived into a handy basement stairway.
Only then did I dare look up and back.
She was standing on the roof edge! She had the pistol in one hand and was waving something in the other. The telescope case! I had forgotten it! She looked like some Demon twenty-two stories up against the sky.
She was screaming something. Too far away to get the words. She had spotted me crossing the street! She was pointing and howling.
I still had the telescope in my hand. Evidence! It was ruined. I hastily dumped it into a garbage can close by and resumed my cover.
She had seen me again!
I couldn't tell what she was screaming. She was pointing down toward me, waving the case and pistol.
The SWAT team!
They spilled out of the cars. They rushed into position.
I recognized the man in the third police car! It was Inspector Bulldog Grafferty!
This required triple think! That demented creature up there was pointing down at me. She could still see me! She was waving the BB pistol and the telescope case.
Genius came to my rescue. At the top of my lungs, I shouted, "Take cover! That's Mad Maggie, the Times Square Sniper!"
The SWAT team scattered like a puff of dust!
There was a shattering blast of rifle fire!
Margarita Pompom Pizzazz, riddled with bullets, came off the roof in a long, slow, high dive and went thunk on the pavement.
You can always count on the police to do their duty. Particularly when they think their own necks are out!
Grafferty made sure there were no other snipers on the roof. Then he walked up to the corpse and turned it over with his foot.
"Fellow citizens," he said with a hand bullhorn to the empty street in general, "you can come out now and go about your business. The first interest of the police is to protect its taxpayers. The streets are safe once again, thanks to Bulldog Grafferty." Was he running for office or just getting ready to hit the town for higher pay?
I sauntered off.
Some Earth poet once said that Hells had no fury like a woman scorned. He must have had Margarita in mind.
It was a bit hard to saunter with that BB in my butt.
It was time for strong measures. The hour had arrived to bring in the troops, the tanks and the artillery. It was plain that Heller was dangerous beyond belief. Even trying to put his room under surveillance was as much as your life was worth. My behind attested to that. Until I got to the privacy of my hotel bathroom I was certain the wound was near mortal, and I had envisioned a tender scene of getting Utanc to draw the lethal bullet out while I stoically groaned just a bit. But unfortunately the pellet had not penetrated flesh, and simply dropped out of my pants when I took them off. But it was bruised! Tender! The red spot was a quarter of an inch in diameter!