Then it all erupted.
The door flew open and there was the ugly whine of a needler. The two agents swung round and crashed to the floor. Their bodies were riddled with tiny slivers of steel. The Minstrel Boy stood in the doorway holding a miniature needle gun in his right hand.
‘The next time I get you idiots out of trouble, I’m going to charge you.’
***
A.A. Catto followed Valdo into his apartment. She really hadn’t bargained for this situation. It promised to be painful and humiliating. The odd thing was that she also felt a vague stirring of excitement.
Three Hostess-1s were waiting in the bedroom. A black velvet coverlet had been laid across the bed, and the wall colouring had been set at a dark purple. A.A. Catto had to admit that her brother had a fine sense of the gothic. A short plaited whip of white leather lay on the bed. It was arranged to give the impression that it had been casually tossed there.
Valdo snapped his fingers at the Hostess-1s.
‘Quick now. Undress Miss Catto.’
The Hostess-1s surrounded A.A. Catto and began systematically to remove her clothes. She did nothing to stop them. It was an odd sensation to be involved in. A situation over which she had no control.
When she was completely naked, Valdo hit the light controls so the walls faded almost to black and the room was completely dark except for a single white spot shining down on the bed.
Valdo’s voice was a sinister whisper.
‘Lie down, my dear sister.’
A.A. Catto was finding the stage management ritual very exciting. She wasn’t too sure about the actual pain.
Two of the Hostess-1s took hold of her wrists, and gently but firmly led her towards the bed. She was laid face down, and the Hostess-1s pulled shiny chrome manacles, padded on the inside with soft black leather, from hidden recesses in the bed and snapped them on to A.A. Catto’s wrists and ankles. A.A. Catto was spreadeagled on the velvet. She was totally unable to move.
Valdo hit two more buttons and the dim glow of the walls began to undulate in changing shapes and patterns. Richard Strauss came through hidden speakers. A.A. Catto swivelled, her head round to look at Valdo. He was pulling on a pair of white kid gloves. He smiled down at her.
‘You must admit that I have taken a lot of trouble over you.’
‘You do have good taste.’
Valdo leaned forward and picked up the whip.
‘I like to pride myself on that.’
He flicked the whip in the air, as though he was testing it.
‘Would you like some altacaine before we start?’
‘I think I would prefer a shot of deadout.’
‘Oh come now, sister. That would defeat the whole purpose of the exercise. It really must be altacaine or nothing.’
A.A. Catto tugged against the manacles but found that they wouldn’t move.
‘Yes, yes. I suppose altacaine will make the experience more interesting.’
Valdo turned to a Hostess-1.
Give Miss Cato a single-dose shot.’
The Hostess-1 pressed the injector against one of A.A. Catto’s buttocks and pressed the release. A.A. Catto tingled as the boost rushed through her system. Valdo gestured to the two other hostesses.
‘Now, rub Miss Catto’s body with sensitol.’
A.A. Catto was outraged.
‘Sensitol? I never agreed to sensitol.’
‘I think it’s perfectly legitimate. I wouldn’t want you to miss the slightest nuance of the tactile experience.’
The two hostesses rubbed the cream all over A.A. Catto’s shoulders, back, buttocks and legs. Her flesh began to come alive, and her skin was sensitive to the slightest movement of the air. She felt pinned down, vulnerable and exposed. She was ultimately receptive to anything that her brother might want to do to her. In the total passiveness and total abasement there was a novel excitement. Valdo’s voice came from somewhere behind her.
‘I think we’re about ready.’
There was a swish and A.A. Catto tensed herself, but it was only Valdo testing the whip again. She turned her head.
‘For god’s sake get on with it. Stop hanging it out.’
Valdo laughed.
‘I didn’t know you were so eager, sister.’
‘Just get on with it.’
‘Why? I’m in no hurry.’
‘Valdo, please.’
He giggled.
‘Come on, beg.’
‘Valdo!’
He slowly raised the whip. There was a frozen moment of stillness and silence.
Then the whip came down and A.A. Catto gasped, squirmed, and finally screamed as loud as she could.
***
The Minstrel Boy dropped his gun back into a small shoulder holster and stepped into the cabin. He was a little more soberly dressed than he’d been in Dur Shanzag. He still had the green lizard frock coat, but it was now cracked and worn. His hair was back to its natural colour, and his dark glasses were again the aviator kind. He wore a double-breasted calfskin waistcoat and a black gambler’s tie with a white shirt. His black pants covered scuffed cowboy boots.
Reave and Billy stood up in amazement.
‘How the fuck did you get here? What happened?’
The Minstrel Boy shrugged.
‘I saw you coming aboard, and then I saw those two.’
He gestured to the bodies on the floor.
‘I figured what might be going on, and came down here to check it out. You saw the rest.’
‘But what are you doing on this boat?’
‘You sure ask a lot of questions for somebody who just got their life saved.’
‘Sorry, it was just such a surprise.’
‘Yeah, okay, life seems to be one big surprise for you boys. You got anything to drink?’
Billy and Reave shook their heads.
‘We were just going up to the saloon when these guys came bursting in.’
‘Okay then, let’s go up there. You can buy me a drink, and meet my partner on this trip.’
Reave gestured at the dead agents.
‘What do we do with them?’
The Minstrel Boy glanced casually at the bodies.
‘You got twenty crowns?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Gimme.’
Reave handed the coins to the Minstrel Boy, who pocketed them.
‘I’ll drop this on the steward, and he’ll take care of them. Once they’re in the river, the alligators will do the rest.’
They left the cabin and climbed the steps to the saloon. The first-class saloon was a floating casino that seemed to be made from mirrors and cut glass. Two huge crystal chandeliers hung overhead. A steward on the door looked distastefully at Billy’s and Reave’s clothes.
‘Are you gentlemen sure that you’re first-class passengers?’
‘Sure.’
Billy flashed their tickets, and the steward had to content himself with asking them to leave their guns with the hat-check girl.
The Minstrel Boy led them across the saloon to a green baize table where a game of nine-card sidewinder was in progress. As they approached, a man in a black velvet coat, with long dark hair, looked up and grinned at the Minstrel Boy.
‘We’re going okay, partner.’
‘That’s good. Hey, Frankie, I’d like you to meet two friends of mine, Billy and Reave. This is Frankie Lee, he’s a gambler.’
Frankie Lee stretched out his hand.
‘Pleased to meet you boys. You want to join our game?’
Billy shook his head.
‘I think we’ll just sit and drink, thanks. We’ve had a busy day.’
‘Okay, suit yourselves.’
The Minstrel Boy sat down at the table and resumed his place in the game. Billy called over a waiter and ordered drinks.
They drank their way through the rest of the day, watching Frankie Lee and the Minstrel Boy clip close on a thousand crowns from two Port Judas merchants out on a spree. Then, towards midnight, they staggered drunkenly off to their cabins where, as the Minstrel Boy had predicted, the bodies had been removed and even the stains on the carpet had vanished. They fell into their beds, and slept soundly until well into the next morning.