“Simply let them know if any symptoms develop. And then to get in touch with them instantly.”
“What kind of symptoms.”
“With three diseases there are quite a number, but I believe they are all characterised by a mild tiredness towards late afternoon. Or in the mornings a sudden hair loss.”
“Hair loss. I thought it was teeth. How much hair.”
“A whole lot, evidently. Why Schultz are you putting your hand up to your head like that.”
“No fucking reason.”
“Well if it’s any help, pubic hair loss is just as copious as the head hair loss.”
“Pubic.”
“Yes. But please don’t start opening up your fly to look now Schultz. Of course a damn nuisance in that area of one’s anatomy. To suddenly confront a lady friend out of the blue one morning with hairless pudenda when the previous evening it was hairy.”
“Jesus.”
“Also one has a sense of thirst. Not that your wanting a glass of water a minute ago Schultz could possibly be taken in that context in the least. Now really the way you’re down again up again hopping around you’d think one was now suggesting the girl was rabid.”
“Don’t worry what you’ve already told me that Rotterdam bitch has got is enough.”
“Well Schultz, I see by my watch I must run. Tell you if I hear anything more.”
“Tell me if you hear anything more. Hey what the fuck are you talking about. You’ve already told me enough for a lifetime. And Jesus do you have to go already.”
“I’m afraid so Schultz. Hubert’s waiting to take me to pick up some antique and rather valuable jewelry items at Christies. And they close in half an hour.”
“Christ you can walk there, it’s only two seconds around the corner.”
“Well it’s rather expected of me to, how shall we put it, to arrive in suitable style.”
“Jesus you worry about style at a fucking time like this.”
Under the not unloving gaze of his Lordship, Schultz sitting back down on the chaise longue. The chef Mario and his assistant with head nods and smiles wheeling out his tables. Schultz’s elbows planted apart on his knees and face bent down into his hands. Right under Sperm Productions’ most prized autographed photograph of a smiling health glowing famed male Hollywood movie star. And then Schultz opening his mouth and with his fingers tugging on his front teeth. And as his left hand ran up through his hair, his right scratched and pinched in the area of his crotch.
“Holy Jesus fucking christ. There’s something loose already down there.”
“Schultz, do be calm. Here’s your water.”
Binky holding out a brimming glass to Schultz. Who suddenly jumping to his feet knocks the water from Binky’s fingers and rushes out into the hall. Where the water closet door could be heard opening and slamming loudly shut.
“I say your Royal Amazing Grace, those vomiting noises one hears. What do you suppose is wrong with our little theatrical friend Schultzy boy there. He appears to be having a little spot of bother of some sort in the confines of the water closet, poor chap.”
Dear me
He is
Suffering
So
6
On that sumptuously lunched afternoon, Schultz wasted no time in getting in touch with Harley Street. Five minutes later having ashen faced reappeared from the water closet and sat a moment wiping his brow, and then jumping to his feet and with fists clenched, he could be overheard screaming at his Lordship’s and Binky’s beloved curvaceous and statuesque secretary Rebecca.
“Yes, I want a certain kind of doctor in Harley Street.”
“What kind sir.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said, a certain kind. Don’t you know what kind that is.”
No journey was ever as dark. Or London buildings so grey. This late afternoon up a thronged Regent Street. Schultz, his white knuckles gripped on each knee held on to himself as his taxi rolled around a sombre Cavendish Square. And turned north into Harley Street where one block further on, Schultz found himself along a dark passage in a chilly water closet, pissing into a bottle.
“Christ even my kidneys are hurting now. I can’t just let myself die. Not in the middle of what could be my first chance of a big hit. With a fucking eruption of money. Soaking me right through to my skin.”
A more than somewhat attractive nurse smilingly taking the urine warm vial from Schultz. And then being led back upstairs, watching her lean shapely legs flexing before him, Schultz tripped. And again aroused the painful maim in his toes. To limp on the arm of the nurse into a large office to sit before this bowtied and suede waistcoated medical gentleman. Who increasingly creased his forehead, and as Schultz again explained his diseases, deepened his frown and finally removed his glasses.
“Well Mr. Schultz, although I’ve not heard of it up until five o’clock today, believe me it’s entirely possible that something resembling this Oriental Venereal Plague you speak of exists. And that our medical service would be most concerned. Of course I’ll have it checked immediately. But I hardly think the World Health Organization would fail to signal it to the medical world. Now you say this Dutch lady is no longer resident in your household. Do you have her address.”
“Address.”
“Yes.”
“Hey doc, if you don’t mind I’d like not to get into that kind of stuff. And start handing out private addresses. Like you, I’ve got a kind of confidential occupation.”
“Mr. Schultz, I regret to say, it’s not only her address I’d like. But I should also require the address of anyone with whom you’ve had any sexual intimacy of any kind since you met the Dutch girl.”
“Wow. This is a kind of a shakeroo, doc.”
“Yes I know. And indeed, no doubt, it will be fraught with possible embarrassment for you. But I assure you it’s all kept extremely confidential until such time as we discover whether or not you are infected. And that will take at least until the report comes back from the laboratory. It is a precaution we must take for the benefit of others. Anyway for a start let’s take a peek in your mouth. Have any difficulty in swallowing.”
“No.”
“Just open. Yes. I see. Throat glands seem all alright. Well it may be too early but you’re not exhibiting the signs of mumps and your mouth seems perfectly healthy. Indeed I’ve rarely seen a better set of teeth. Well then. So far, so good. But in respect of this other more serious matter, we must know Mr. Schultz, if you have had sexual intercourse or intimacy with anyone else since meeting the Dutch girl.”
“Doc, look, I’m in the theatre, you understand. And you kind of sometimes find yourself with various people a lot.”
“I see. Does this mean there are others who may be involved in exposure.”
“Yeah.”
“Might I ask, how many.”
“Doc, look, do you want me to be honest.”
“That would help considerably.”
“Well the truth is I don’t know how many.”
“I see.”
“I mean don’t think I’m promiscuous. I mean I can remember some of them.”
“I see.”
“But doc Jesus don’t ask me to make a list of addresses.”
“This is Mr. Schultz, I assure you, a medical matter not a moral one. So now if you would just please lower your trousers, I’ll examine you.”
Schultz stood staring out a parting in the curtain beyond these pale glassed Georgian panes watching the other medical windows lighting up across the street as he was examined. The doctor saying he could as yet see no definite signs of pathology. But would, if Mr. Schultz would just milk his organ in a downward fashion, take a penis tip smear. And then a blood sample. Which latter nearly made Schultz faint. And at the office door came the doctor’s parting advice.