The Erection Set

Her laugh tinkled out and she dipped her tongue in the champagne. “Only kidding, Dog. I’ll take care of my end.” She glanced over to where Alfred was hanging over the oldest aunt in the family, studying him carefully. “You know, if you’re right, he won’t be capable of balling anyway. I’ve seen those types before. They take out their inabilities in other ways. I still have a few scars to show for it.”

“Then you’ll know when to cut out.”

“You have the room all set?”

I handed her the key and she dropped it into the tiny purse she carried. “Exactly as I diagrammed it. Everything is preset, available light is all you need, the activators are in four selected positions and if things get touchy, you bust out through the closet in the bathroom to-the next suite. Extra clothes are there if you have to run bare-assed.”

“Money sure can buy everything, can’t it?”

“Not everything,” I said.

“How do I look?”

“Like you took off ten years someplace. How’d you do it?”

“Cosmetic science, a clear conscience and a happy mind.”

“Kid, you can sure rationalize.”

“A girl in my position has to. I don’t want to be a whore all my life.”

“Then marry Lee.”

“I’m thinking about it. He’s asked me twice in the last three days.”

“Why didn’t you take him up on it?”

“Because I’m not too sure he won’t have regrets about my past. Most men want to start out with a fresh one.”

“Not Lee, baby. He wants to ride a mount already broken to the saddle. He means what he says.”

“You sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

After a few moments she smiled and nodded, her lips pursed in thought. “Okay, I’m convinced.”

“Then get to work.”

“Roger, boss man.”

Leyland Hunter waited until she left, then walked over to me. “You’re taking a big chance.”

“Not really,” I said. “One of my guys will be standing by if things get rough.” I stayed in the corner out of sight scanning the faces of the crowd. Another bunch had come in through the main entrance and were shaking hands all around. In the center of the group, Cross McMillan had Sharon on his arm and Walt Gentry escorted Sheila. S. C. Cable was a smiling producer with a bundle of white fox with hair to match holding his hand. His new leading lady was strictly from England via old-style Hollywood.

I said, “Take care of things, mighty Hunter.”

“Yes, I suppose I had better pay my respects to the rest of the tribe. For old times’ sake, of course.”

“Naturally. Be sure to line up their proxies.”

“I’m afraid there won’t be that much among them to help. They’ll commit to your cousins out of family loyalty, but their shares are nominal. Am I going to be able to reach you if necessary?”

“Let me call you, Counselor. I don’t want you exposed to my presence any more than necessary.”

He gave me one of his courtroom glares, nodded and walked off, picking his way through the chattering crowd of minor celebrities and local big wheels.

A lone waiter spotted me in the dim corner, cut around the piano and held out a full tray of bubbling champagne. “Drink, sir?”

“No thanks.”

“Very good, sir.” He started to swing around when the nameplate on his jacket hit me like a short hard jab.

I said softly, “Ferris.”

He kept on walking.

“Ferris!”

“Sir?”

I tapped his plastic nameplate.

He glanced down, then smiled and shook his head. “Oh ... I’m sorry, sir. No, I’m not Ferris. I’m Daly, John Daly. Apparently the jackets they fitted us with got mixed up. You see, we were only hired for the night. Ferris must be here someplace wearing my name tag.”

“Who did the hiring?”

“There was an ad in the paper two days ago. We simply answered it.”

“All local help?”

“Well, I do know most everyone who applied. A few were strangers to me. If I see the one with my tag shall I send him over?”

“No, I’ll find him. And thanks.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Contact made. But from which side? Ferris 655 had run me down and found a way to reach me. It had to be an alternate route because he couldn’t have been sure I’d be here, but it was a.cute arrangement and deliberate as hell. I knew there wouldn’t be any Daly nameplate circulating cnd spotting the one with Ferris meant that I was either tagged or supposed to get thinking. But what would any other alternates be?

Ferris 655. The seed in my mind that had germinated into a stalk that bore leaves now began to sprout a blossom that would erupt into fruit. Ferris. Ferris. It was something from a long time ago. Something obscure, but supposed to be remembered.