The Erection Set

“Let’s say satisfied. There are things that need doing that have been left undone too long.”

“But somebody will get hurt.”

“That they will, pretty girl,” I told her. “You can damn well bet on it. They deserve it and they’ll get it.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Rose asked me.

I sat back, let my thoughts drift back across time a few seconds, then said, “Maybe I don’t look the type, kid, but I did my homework pretty well.”

“Revenge, Dog?”

“Nope. Simply a necessity.”

“I don’t think I believe you.”

“Maybe I don’t want to believe it myself.” I paused and watched her a moment. “No, it isn’t revenge. It just has to be done.”

The cup spun under her fingers for a full minute before she looked up again and nodded. “All right, Dog. There’s something funny about you and I have to find out just what it is. I sleep with men for money and nearly everyone wants to know why I got into the business. Oh, I tell them something and rarely ever the same story twice. But I’m always curious why they bother being serviced by a call girl. They fall in love, they marry, then start knocking around with whores.”

“It’s the animal instinct,” I said.

“They’re crazy,” Rose told me. “If they like specialties, teach their women to perform. Hell, you’d be surprised how happy a woman is to go along with their games. They even have some of their own and when two people perfect the art of turning a bed into a happy workbench you couldn’t pry either one of them away from the other with a crowbar. Damn, I know an old fat couple who haven’t missed a two-a-day turn in forty years and they have eleven kids.”

“Who?”

“My folks. They used to embarrass hell out of me. If they knew what I was they’d feel genuine pity for me. To them marriage is one big happy ball. Me, I’m missing something.”

“How about Lee?”

“We’re good friends, Dog. Screwing buddies, sort of. He’s a big, friendly puppy type who hasn’t grown up yet. I don’t think he ever will.”

“And if he does?”

“What would he want me for? He could grab any woman then.”

“I doubt it. Not after he’s been trained by you.”

“Thank you, my friend. It’s nice to contemplate, but a little on the improbable side.”

“You hedged,” I said.

“What?”

“You didn’t say impossible.”

“Female vanity, big Dog. I’m curious about him, too, but you the most. I wonder what you really want.”

“I’ve pondered that too.”

“And when you find out?”

“I’ll take it.”

“No matter who’s got it?”

“Roger, pussycat. No matter who’s got it.”

“Okay, Dog. At least you got me. Now I have to stay in the game just to see how it turns out. Are you going to kiss me good night now?”

“In my own inimitable fashion,” I told her.

IV

New York was getting its midweek bath under a slashing northeast rain that churned up ripples in the street and blew waves of spray across the sidewalks. Empty cabs cruised by, but the shoppers had stayed home and it was too early for the office crowd to be leaving the grotesque sepulchers that contained them.

Lee’s voice was a muttered undertone of total futility. Weller-Fabray, Tailors, his pants legs and shoes soggy under the hem of his black raincoat. I paid off the driver and climbed out of the taxi, letting the rain tear at me, then walked past him and into the store.

Lee’s voice was a muttered undertone of total futility. “A whole year before this class joint would even sell me a suit, now you blow it in one bounce.”

“Down, boy,” I said.

The British gentleman with the sweeping moustache and formal tails nodded politely to Lee, studied me a second and nodded with an almost imperceptible bow. Somehow he seemed to wear the cloak of royalty around his shoulders, his eyes observant and capable of instant analysis. For that scant moment we just looked at each other, then, in perfect French, he said, “Yes, m’sieu, how may we help you?”

There was no trace of accent in my French, either. I said, “I would like a complete wardrobe for every occasion. I haven’t the time to stand for fittings and need two suits immediately. There are certain alterations of design that are somewhat unusual, but necessary, as you will see. My measurements are on file at Betterton and Strauss in London, and Mr. Betterton will be happy to give them to you at any hour, so please call him immediately and bill me for any charges. Choice of material and styling will be at your discretion. Please include shirts, ties, underwear, socks and whatever you consider pertinent.” I wrote out a check, handed it to him along with Lee’s address and added, “Only the finest, if you don’t mind, and this should cover the preliminary expenses. When may I expect delivery of the two suits?”

He never even glanced at the check. Completely unperturbed he told me, “Tomorrow, sir. About noon?”

“Fine,” I said. There was that slight bow again and I walked Lee back outside into the rain.