lrh.fortuneoffear-第27节

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　　　Heller　touched　his　collar。　He　said；　〃Dear；　would　it　be　convenient　for　you　to　bring　the　money　to　room　201？　It　is　on　the　second　floor。　Just　look　at　the　numbers　and　arrows。　I　am　sure　the　armed　men　here　will　give　you　no　trouble。〃
　　　They　waited。
　　　There　was　the　clang　of　an　elevator。　Then　sounds　of　something　ing　down　the　hall。　A　gunman　there；　keeping　his　hands　very　empty；　gingerly　opened　the　door。
　　　A　big　laundry　cart　rolled　in；　piled　to　the　top　with　laundry　bags。　What　appeared　to　be　an　old　chambermaid　stood　up。　It　was　the　Countess　Krak　dressed　in　hotel　worker　clothes　and　lines　of　age　drawn　on　her　face。
　　　〃Mother　of　God；〃　said　one　of　the　men；　〃I　passed　her　three　times　with　that　cart　when　we　were　looking　on　the　sixth　floor！〃
　　　But　Gobbo　was　not　interested　in　who　had　brought　the　cart　in。　He　stood　up。　He　signalled。　The　consigliere　and　two　others　began　to　lift　the　bags　out。　They　opened　the　covering　laundry　sack　and　peered　in　at　the　money。　They　turned　the　open　ends；　one　after　the　other；　to　Gobbo。
　　　He　went　over　and　into　each　sack　plunged　his　hand　and　verified　there　was　no　stuffing　but　money。　He　looked　at　many　of　the　bills　to　make　sure　they　were　not　counterfeit。
　　　Bags　were　lying　all　over　the　floor！　Big　and　fat。
　　　Gobbo　clapped　his　hands　together　twice　and；　with　a　gesture；　had　the　bags　closed　and　piled　back　into　the　laundry　truck。
　　　The　capo　then；　with　a　gesture；　had　two　men　speed　the　laundry　cart　out　of　the　room。
　　　Heller's　gun　came　up。　But　Gobbo　was　walking　over　with　the　contracts。　Gobbo　waited　until　he　heard　the　elevator　door　bang　shut　and　the　car　start　down。　With　an　elegant　bow　he　handed　the　contracts　to　Heller。　Then；　with　a　very　imperious　gesture；　like　an　orchestra　conductor；　he　began　to　wave　his　arms　at　the　men　in　the　room。
　　　〃Happy　Birthday；〃　said　Gobbo；　in　English。
　　　The　others　in　the　room　immediately　began　to　sing。　They　sang：

Happy　Birthday　to　you；
Happy　Birthday　to　you；
Happy　Birthday；　dear　Whiz　Kid；
You've　been　fun　to　screw。

　　　Then　they　all　started　laughing。
　　　Gobbo　said；　〃Put　your　gun　away；　Whiz　Kid。　Nobody　would　think　of　shooting　you；　now　that　you　are　the　sole　owner　of　the　Scalpello　Casino　Corporation　and　all　its　vast　properties。　Three　days　ago；　the　New　Jersey　Gambling　mission　told　us　that　at　the　end　of　the　week　all　our　licenses　were　going　to　be　cancelled　for　nonpayment　of　bribes　and　ordered　us　to　sell　the　whole　thing　to　anyone　else　who　would　buy　it。
　　　〃But　you　see；　Whiz　Kid；　nobody　at　all　would　touch　any　part　of　this　corporation；　for　at　noon　tomorrow；　by　the　clock；　the　Grabbe…Manhattan　Bank；　that　owns　all　the　mortgages；　first　and　second；　on　all　these　hotels　and　property；　is　going　to　foreclose　and　take　over　everything　it　owns。　They　even　blocked　efforts　to　file　bankruptcy　by　threatening　criminal　proceeding　on　other　counts　against　the　directors　if　we　did。
　　　〃All　the　money　that　you　won；　Whiz　Kid；　went　through　the　puters　as　legal　gambling　losses　paid　out　to　unknown　people。　It's　all　laundered　money　and　untraceable。　So　you　let　us　follow　the　New　Jersey　Gambling　mission　ruling　and　it's　you　that　Grabbe…Manhattan　will　now　be　foreclosing　on！　AND　you've　given　us　all　these　lovely　millions　as　run　money　to　go　someplace　nice　and　retire　on。　So　Happy　Birthday；　Whiz　Kid。　The　Virgin　Mary　herself　must　have　sent　you。　Although；　when　we　spotted　you　earlier　today；　I　will　admit　we　gave　her　lots　of　help。〃
　　　He　went　over　to　his　desk。　He　took　a　letter　basket　and　piled　a　few　personal　knickknacks　in　it。　He　handed　the　basket　to　Don　Julio　to　carry　and　directed　him　out　the　door。
　　　The　rest　of　the　men　filed　out。　Gobbo；　the　last　one　at　the　door；　made　a　sweeping　gesture　with　his　hand。　〃It　is　all　yours；　Wister。　Every　bit　of　it。　But　there's　just　one　more　thing。　I　don't　know　why　they　call　you　the　Whiz　Kid。　You're　the　dumbest　（bleepard）　in　a　business　deal　that　I　ever　met！〃　He　bowed。　He　was　gone。
　　　Heller　stood　there　for　a　moment。　Then　he　dived　for　the　phone。　He　punched　the　buttons　frantically。
　　　A　sleepy　voice　at　the　other　end　said；　〃Hello。〃
　　　Heller　shouted；　〃IZZY！　HELP！〃

PART　THIRTY…NINE
Chapter　1

　　　The　next　day　I　lay　in　bed；　overtaken　by　uncontrollable　bursts　of　chuckling。　I　had　been　up　all　night　due　to　time　differences　between　Turkey　and　Atlantic　City；　and　would　have　slept　all　morning　in　any　event。　But　every　time　I　thought　of　getting　up　after　that；　I　would　go　into　spasms　of　guffaws　and　would　have　to　lie　back。
　　　Clever；　clever　Gobbo　Piegare！　What　a　friend　I　had　in　him！　Between　spasms　of　glee；　I　pondered　the　possibility　of　awarding　him　in　some　way：　maybe　send　him　a　stuffed　bluejay；　that　ace　of　robbers；　mounted　on　a　gold　base。　Or　maybe　get　Senator　Twiddle　to　put　him　up　for　the　Congressional　Medal　of　Honor　or　get　Rockecenter's　attorney　Bury　to　nominate　Piegare　for　the　Nobel　Prize　as　hit　man　of　the　year。
　　　Gobbo　Piegare　was　an　absolute　master。　If　and　when　Lombar　Hisst　took　over　Earth；　that　stellar　crook　should　be　a　candidate　for　Earth　Apparatus　staff。
　　　At　length；　my　stomach　hurting　with　laughter；　I　called　for　breakfast　and　shortly　began　to　laugh　still　more　to　see　that　the　waiter　now　had　a　purple　cheek　and　Karagoz　wore　two　black　eyes。　Melahat；　the　housekeeper；　looking　like　she'd　been　raped；　stood　in　the　door；　wringing　her　hands　and　hoping　that　the　kahve　was　just　the　right　temperature。　Musef　and　Torgut　were　doing　their　job　properly。　Oh；　it　was　a　lovely　day。　Cold　and　bitter　outside　but　nice　and　gleeful　within。
　　　About　four　o'clock；　I　went　into　my　secret　room　and　uncovered　the　viewers。　I　sat　down　to　enjoy　any　further　disfiture　of　Heller　and　Krak。
　　　It　was　midmorning　in　Atlantic　City。　They　were　in　bed　in　a　palatial　bedroom。　The　bed　had　a　canopy　of　white　gauze　and　bows。　It　must　be　the　bridal　suite。　The　furnishings　were　all　decorated　with　flowers　and　were　very　posh。
　　　Heller　got　up　and　went　into　the　ornate　sitting　room。　He　pulled　a　drape　cord　and　disclosed　a　big　picture　window。　The　room　was　evidently　high　up　and　the　window　overlooked　a　vast　expanse　of　the　cold；　gray　Atlantic　Ocean。　He　looked　at　the　slow　and　sullen　swells　rolling　in　upon　deserted　and　forlorn　amusement　piers。　There　were　several　wrecks　on　the　beach　and　black；　oily　smoke　drifting　around。
　　　He　went　back　into　the　bedroom　and　opened　the　drapes　there；　disclosing　a　stretch　of　desolate　Boardwalk；　deserted　except　for　a　TV　crew　that　was　shooting　something。
　　　Krak　was　sitting　on　the　side　of　the　bed；　half…dressed；　ruefully　regarding　the　scars　on　the　side　of　her　white　Moroccan　boot；　probably　caused　by　her　slide　down　the　laundry　chute。　She　looked　up。　〃They　certainly　don't　know　how　to　make　animals　grow　proper　hides。〃　She　threw　it　down　and　went　into　the　bathroom　and　spin…brushed　her　teeth。
　　　With　her　mouth　full　of　foam；　she　said；　〃Jettero；　who　is　this　'Whiz　Kid'　they　are　talking　about？〃
　　　Heller　was　picking　through　the　suitcase。　He　sighed。　He　said；　〃He's　the　dumbest　（bleepard）　in　a　business　deal　that　anybody　ever　met…begging　your　pardon；　miss。　You　wouldn't　want　to　know　him。〃
　　　She　rinsed　out　her　mouth　and　came　back　into　the　bedroom。　〃Will　all　this　help　us　to　get　home？〃　she　asked。
　　　〃We'll　be　lucky　if　we　don't　get　booted　off　this　planet　and　kicked　the　whole　twenty…two　light…years　back　home。〃
　　　She　went　into　a　slight　shock。　She　stood　there；　staring　at　him。　〃Oh；　dear；〃　she　said。　〃And　return　as　failures？〃
　　　I　knew　what　she　was　thinking　about：　Those　two　forged　〃Royal　Proclamations；〃　which　she'd　given　her　word　to　keep　from　Heller；　would　not　be　valid　if　the　mission　failed。　He　would　still　be　put　onto　dangerous　assignments；　she　thought；　and；　as　she　was　a　nonperson；　they　could　not　get　married。
　　　〃Oh；　dear；〃　she　said　again。　She　began　to　get　dressed。　Heller　was　still　poking　into　the　suitcase；　looking　glum。　The　Countess　Krak　got　into　her　chinchilla　coat；　put　on　her　white　fur　hat　and　picked　up　her　pocketbook。　At　the　door；　she　stopped　and　called　back；　〃I'm　going　to　see　Mamie　Boomp。　We　have　a　lot　to　talk　about。　See　you　later；　dear。〃　She　left。
　　　Well；　one　thing　I　didn't　want　to　hear　more　about　was　fashions；　fashions；　fashions　and　clothes；　clothes；　clothes。　What　the　homosexual　designers　were　proclaiming　would　be　spring　styles　was　my　idea　of　pure　static。　I　didn't　want　to　spoil　my　euphoria。　I　turned　off　her　viewer。　Heller's　depression　was　the　source　of　my　extreme　well…being。
　　　He　really　understood　he　had　plunged　himself　to　ruin。　The　neat；　gray　flannel　suit　and　silk　shirt　were　a　long　way　from　how　he　felt；　apparently。　He　dug；　out　of　the　bottom　of　the　grip；　a　suit　of　workman's　denim。　They　were　the　style　for　beachwear　and　maybe　he　had　thought　they'd　have　some　time　on　the　sand；　as　he　looked　at　the　cold；　gray　sea　from　time　to　time。
　　　Slowly；　he　began　to　get　dressed。　The　most　recent　denim　men's　styles　required　the　material　be　torn；　patched　and　grease…stained　like　true　workmen's　clothing。　And　although　he　might　now　be　dressed　in　the　beachwear　height　of　fashion；　my；　didn't　he　appear　a　ragged　wreck　as　he　looked　at　himself　in　the　mirror！
　　　Then　he　sat　for　a　long；　long　time；　staring　out　the　window　at　the　cold；　gray　sea。　What　a　treat　for　my　eyes！　Oh；　how　the　mighty　had　fallen！　He　not　only　hadn't　helped　their　precarious　situation　in　New　York；　he　had