"You like my new dress?" I asked, twirling so he could see it back and front.
"I do," he said, smiling. "I really do. just don't take a deep breath."
I was sort of stuck with him, which I suppose is a mean thing to say, but you don't go to a party to associate with your husband. Secretly I was glad when he finished his drink and said he had to get back to the lab.
He kissed my cheek. "Have a good time, Mabel," he said.
And after he left, I did.
This was serious business. Jessica and Laura and TI agreed on that.
I mean we had all pulled small cons, penny-ante scams, the badger game, maybe rolling a drunk now and then. And we had all been in the skin trade. Been busted, did time. But that was two-bit stuff compared to ripping off the ZAP pill. Big money was involved here, and we all knew it.
"We got two problems," I told the ladies. "How to glom on to that pill, and how to keep Big Bobby Gurk away from our throats." Mcwhortle had I said I had told Gurk that Marvin croaked and the deal was dead.
But I wasn't sure Big Bobby bought it, and we had to figure he was still interested. if he ever found out we had the pill an had double-X'd him, he'd come looking for us.
"Yeah," Laura said. "The guy's a slob, but he's a heavy slob-dangerous.
He's still porking me every now and then. My heart really isn't in it, but I'm afraid to dump him, he might get physical.
Also, by letting him jump my bones, I can keep an eye on him, and maybe find out if he's got something nasty on his mind.
"Okay, " I said, "you keep tabs on Gurk. That leaves the job of getting the pill. I checked out the address of Mabel Barrow and scammed her kid, a boy named Chet. He told me his pop is named Gregory, and he's a chemist who works at Mcwhortle Laboratory. So that confirms what the old man told you, Jess.
Now we got to finagle a way to meet this Gregory and see how we can turn him."
We discussed a dozen different scenarios, but nothing clicked until I hit on the scheme of Laura throwing a cocktail party at her condo.
She'd invite her best customers, including Mabel Barrow, and tell them all to bring their husband or boyfriend.
Jess and I would be there and make a move on Gregory.
"I like it," Jessica said. "Maybe he'll get sloshed, which will make him easy meat for a come-on."
"Before you do anything," I said, "let me have a crack at him. He might be suffering from the shorts and ready to peddle the pill for cash. If I strike out, then you take over."
Laura said, "The only thing that bothers me about this party idea is what do we do if Bobby Gurk shows up unexpectedly. He might meet Gregory Barrow, and that could queer the whole deal."
"You could invite him," Jess suggested, "and then keep him so busy he doesn't have a chance to meet anyone.
"Invite him?" Laura said indignantly. "I wouldn't invite that bum to a funeral-unless it was his own."
But she finally agreed to go along with the party after I said I'd pick up the tab for the booze and food. Listen, it takes money to make money, everyone knows that.
We went over our plan again and again until we had it choreographed down to the smallest detail, like what Jessica would wear and how Laura would tip off the hired bartender to slug Gregory Barrow's drinks.
It was a good plot and it should have worked. But it didn't, and I began to wonder if The Luck had deserted me.
First of all, the chemist showed up late, stayed about an hour, and then took off. I don't think he had had more than two drinks, and they didn't help us a bit. Jess and I met him all right-for all the good it did us. He wasn't a badlooking guy, but he dressed like a zombie and wore brown shoes with a navy blue suit. Beautiful. I think maybe he smiled twice.
The party lasted until about six o'clock. Finally, everyone was gone, including the bartender, and we were left with the mess to clean up.
But before we did that, we slumped in chairs, shared a joint, and tried to figure out what had gone wrong.
"The guy's a straight-arrow," I complained. "I think he bought my story of being in the drug biz, but he wasn't giving anything away. I as much as told him he was in a position to make big bucks if he'd be willing to share some of Mcwhortle's trade secrets. He looked at me like he was ready to phone the FBI.
Listen, I've been clipping gulls all my life, and mostly you get to them through their greed. But this Barrow acted like he couldn't care less about gelt. And as for screwing dear old Mcwhortle Laboratory, forget it. I tell you the man's a fucking Boy Scout. He's not going, to hand over that testosterone pill for love or money. Leastwise not for money.
Jess, how did you make out in the love department?"
The folding bar was still in place, and a lot of the booze I had bought was still there. Jessica went over and poured a Chivas for Laura, a Sterling for herself, and a glass of club soda for me.
"You called him a straight-arrow," she said. "He's also a frost. I don't know what's with him. Either I didn't turn him on or he's so in love with that Betty Boop wife of his that he doesn't want to stray.
Anyway, I gave him the full treatment, trying to convince him that I thought he was God's gift to women.
But I just couldn't touch him. I think if I came right out and said, Wanna get naked?" he'd have said, beg your pardon, madam. Like I had my address and phone number written on a piece of paper and slipped it to him. The poor mooch didn't know what to do with it and finally stuffed it in his pocket. Maybe he'll call me, but don't bet on it.
Let's face it, The guy is a natural-born wimp."
Laura took a big gulp of her drink. "No hits, no runs, just one big error," she said. "So where do we go from here, Willie?"
The two ladies looked at me, expecting a brainstorm. They were both good kids but limited, if you know what I mean.
"I'll come up with something," I promised. I always have.
Meanwhile, what say we go have some dinner. My treat."
They were more than willing. We closed the door on the full ashtrays and lipsticked glasses and went to a high-class seafood joint on the Waterway, where we all had lobster, pasta, and a salad. We didn't talk about the ZAP pill while we ate, just traded crazy war stories and had a few laughs.
There was a young couple sitting at the next table with a little boy who was working on a shrimp cocktail. He looked to be a few years younger than Chester arrow, but maybe seeing him was what gave me the B e could convince the chemist to hand idea of how w over the pill.
I drove the ladies back to Laura's place, and then I returned to my own pad. My club was having an affair that night, a costume party called Fete Parisienne. I had rented the outfit of a cancan dancer, complete with black net pantyhose and ruffled skirt. I even had a mouche to stick on my cheek.
It was a good party with plenty of champagne, but there were two other cancan dancers, which spoiled the evening for me. The winner of the first prize was a policeman who dressed like Edith Piaf and sang "La vie en rose."
I got home around two A.m but I was too charged to sleep.
I thought a long time about my new scheme for getting the ZAP pill from Gregory Barrow. I was sure it was doable, but I'd need the help of Jessica and Laura. It would be heavier than anything I had done before, and if it got screwed up I knew what the result would be, five-to-ten in the slammer with all those swell people.
I finally got to sleep, and it was almost noon on Sunday when I woke up.
The first thing I did was phone Laura and ask if she could get Jessica over to her place at, say, three o'clock. She called me back about ten minutes later and said Jess was hungover, and didn't want to go out in the sunlight, but we could meet at her place.
So that's what we did. Both the ladies looked like they had hit the sauce pretty hard after I left them the night before. I mean their faces were puffy, and they held their coffee cups in both hands, a sure tip-off that they had the shakes. But they listened attentively enough while I explained how we could get Gregory Barrow to cooperate.