Feet were twisting and turning, four pairs.
"Oh, you darling!" came Candy's voice.
"What's going on?" I pleaded, staring. "I'm the husband!"
"Beat it, buster," came the drunken voice of Mrs. Bey nee Pinch. "This ish OUR conshummation, not yoursh!"
A champagne bottle exploded in a cascade of fizz.
I stared at the bed. A voice floated to me, "Kiss me, kiss me, KISS ME!"
Another champagne bottle exploded all by itself.
The foam flooded across the ravaged cake. The fallen bridegroom twisted over on his side and then sank from view in the froth, feet first.
It dimly occurred to me that something, I could not figure what, had pushed these girls back toward lesbianism. Possibly it was a hangover of psychiatric
conditioning. I knew I hadn't had anything to do with it.
Something was troubling me. I somehow didn't feel that my marriages had been consummated. I felt more like a fifth wheel.
I went to my lonely room and fell into a sleep raped with nightmares in which I was Heller pretending to be that clerk in the city halls who travelled about so miraculously marrying everybody. Soltan Gris was in the coffin that Heller the clerk kept using for a marriage ceremony desk. The Manco Devil even got married to Lombar Hisst while Rockecenter, in gales of laughter, stood in as best man.
But what really woke me up sweating was when a Manco Devil stepped out of the coffin and pointed a finger at the middle of my forehead. He-or was it a she? – said, "Ask yourself. Is this all happening to you because you did it to Heller?"
I knew right then, as I stared into the spinning darkness, that things were going to get WORSE!
Never drink alcohol and take dope at the same time.
The result can be near fatal, as I found out when I: woke to another terrible day.
I heard Mrs. Pinch Bey and Mrs. Candy Bey preparing to go to work. I crawled out just in time to catch Adora before she went out the door.
"The money," I croaked.
Her eyes, as she glanced at me, told me how awful I must look standing there with the cold air on my naked flesh. "We can't be late for work after playing hooky yesterday," she said. "There's no time to go into it now." She dived a hand into her purse and drew out a few dollar bills. She tossed them on the floor. "Just so you don't go robbing banks. We'll take the other up this evening." She was gone.
Nervously, I stared after her. Then I picked the seven dollars off the floor and went back to my room.
A cold shower did not do the least good. I found some aspirin. I took it. It made me feel fuzzy. Then I began to feel drunk all over again: they say champagne does that when you drink water the morning after. I shouldn't have taken the aspirin with water.
I couldn't lie down. I was too spinny and jittery.
I turned on the viewers. Crobe was puttering around a laboratory, doing something with a snake. The Countess Krak's was blank: that was good news for me, it meant she wasn't within two hundred miles. Heller was sitting looking at an untouched breakfast: at least I had him worried sick.
The butler's voice. "Some men, sir. I think they're from the court."
"Well, kick them out," said Heller.
"I can't, sir. There's police with them and they've got guns."
The shabby man in the shabby coat with the shabby hat pulled down over his eyes, unable to look at anybody straight, had followed the butler in. He placed an order in Heller's hand.
"He's served!" called the shabby man toward the door. "You can go ahead."
Heller read the paper. It said:
SUPERIOR COURT
Wister vs. Wister SEIZURE ORDER:
To protect all property, rights and assets of the PLAINTIFF, Toots Wister, and to prevent actual assets from being hidden under the mask of false or fabricated identity or titles, under the community property laws of this state, said assets shall be frozen by the order of this court until actual titles can be established.
The DEFENDANT shall hereafter and whereas and at once surrender up all bank accounts, assets, possessions real and personal and everything he uses and claims he does not own.
Superior Court
Hammer Twist
Judge
Dingaling, Chase and Ambo
"What the blast is this?" said Heller.
A heavy voice said, "It's a court order and I come along to be sure it's fulfilled without trouble. You pulled a gun on the process server the other day." It was Police Inspector Grafferty!
Men were filing into the condo, picking up things and making lists.
"And what happens if I throw you crazies out?" said Heller.
"You get ninety days for contempt of court," said Grafferty. "Say, haven't I seen you someplace before? I never forget a face."
"What shall I do?" said the butler.
"Follow them around and make sure they don't steal anything," said Heller. "But first tell the chauffeur to get out a car."
"You can't use any cars," said Grafferty. "And you can't live here, either. We're padlocking the place."
"What happens to the staff?" said Heller.
"They get padlocked, too," said Grafferty. "Are you sure we ain't met before?"
Heller picked up his hat.
Two policemen stopped him, removed his wallet and took the money out of it.
Heller took back the empty wallet. He went into his room to get some clothes.
"Can't touch those," a court marshal said. "You're lucky we don't strip you of them you got on. The only thing that stops us is indecent exposure laws."
Heller walked out. Just before he got in the elevator, he bumped into the police inspector. Grafferty said, "I know where it was. Police lineup for sexual offenders three years ago. You got off then, but you won't the next time. I'll see to it personally."
Heller exited from the front door of the condo. The doorman didn't salute. Heller walked over to him. "I've got to make a phone call. Can you lend me a quarter?"
"I'm sorry, sir," the doorman said. "But them was bailiffs that just walked in. I don't know what the trouble is, but nobody ever gets out of a court alive. Even a dime would be at risk. Have a good day, sir."
Heller started downtown on foot. He had most of the length of Central Park to go.
He covered it and entered Columbus Circle. He went down Broadway, all the way from 59th Street through Times Square and on down to 34th Street. Then he went the final part of a long block toward Fifth Avenue and was in the shadow of the Empire State Building.
He stopped. He took out a piece of paper and, glancing around, put it up against the building and wrote a note. He wrote so fast I could not follow it.
He watched the entrance to the building. He stood there for some time. A young man came running out, probably a broker's runner. Heller paced him. At the corner, where the young man was waiting for a light, Heller stepped close to him and pushed the paper into his hand.
"Don't look at me," said Heller. "Turn around and get this to Izzy right away."
The young man must have been from Izzy's own office. He waited for the light. Heller crossed. He glanced back. The young man hadn't followed him. He was gone.
Heller went up the street to the Sukiyaki Bar and Grill. He went in.
A Japanese came over.
"Give me a glass of water," said Heller.
"You no order food? You no order drink?"
"Give me a glass of water," said Heller.
"I'm most sorry, we don't serve water. If you broke, go to Salvation Army soup kitchen."
"You like this place?" said Heller.
"Yes."
"You don't want this place wrecked?"
"NO, sir!"
"Then bring me a glass of water."
"I can't, sir. You can sit there. But no money, no water."
Heller waited half an hour. Other Japanese staff passed by, frowning at him. New York is no place to be without money. I heard somebody say once that the place was as hard as a whore's heart. True, by my experience.