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He collapsed in a chair.
"I just talked in person to Houdini!" he exulted. "Me, Vic Singleton, from Jersey City, New Jersey. His
voice came right in my ear and my voice went right back into his. God!"
The thugs had put away their guns and moved back, looking dazed. This was totally outside their
experience.
"We're not out of the woods," said Phil. "There's a problem. Houdini won't come if he finds out you're a
bootlegger."
The look of ecstasy slowly faded from Vic's face. "My God, I never thought of that. Listen, I can't . . . ."
Then he stopped. "But, yeah, I see what you mean. I mean, this guy is a friend of presidents, kings,
queens, all big shots. He can't afford to deal with scum like me."
"Exactly," said Phil.
"What the hell am I going to do?" cried Vic. "Here's my first chance in my entire life to show off before
the world as an important right guy."
"It's tough," said Phil. "There's only one out. You've got to quit the rackets. Now, tonight, forever. From
this minute on, you're an impresario, a show business entrepreneur."
Vic jumped up. "Quit the rackets?"
"Haven't you got enough money? Now it's fame and respect you want."
Vic shook his head. "I got to think this one out."
"There's no choice," said Phil. "Either get out, or no Houdini. You'll also have to dump those ten
thousand gallons of gin for Houdini's appearance."
There was a diminishing wail as Singleton fled the room, followed by his two men.
Phil sat back in his chair, breathing in triumph. He had no doubt what Vic would do. The man was crazy
for social approval and had all the money he'd ever need. It also fit Phil's California project. Once they
did the Houdini show, Vic would be at loose ends . . . and Phil knew where to direct him next. Beautiful.
Yes, he rode the crest. Always before his sex drive had cut into his career, blocking his progress. This
time it hadn't. He'd enjoyed two beautiful dolls in one day and ended up with the excitement of the
Houdini call. Maybe his luck had changed.
He heard Texas Bunny Long singing in the auditorium. Her voice sounded deep, strong, throaty in the
second show. It was twice as good as before. And all on account of her throat being coated with his
sperm. Would wonders ever cease in Atlantic City, New Jersey?
It was too weeks later and the dress rehearsal was over. The little aquarium had been repainted outside
and in. Phil had gotten rid of all George's hookers and installed sweet young beach girls, easy to pick up
on the sands at this time of year. They could all swim like fish. He trained them as well as he could in the
gin tank. Tomorrow it would all be pumped out and replaced by fresh sea water for Houdini.
Phil was ready for that. He'd taken over the comic diving part of the show and found that swimming in
gin sounded better than it was. The alcohol stung on every little cut, the aroma was overpowering and
even a sip burned the throat, despite its being first-class stuff. Nobody would miss it, except the two
drunks that Phil had replaced, who were more interested in sneaking out the stuff than performing.
Flair Singleton lent her elegant, tanned body to the show, against her will. Hers was no match for her
father's who meant to make the most of his brief fling with Houdini and the big time. After all, he was
giving up his bootlegging career for this.
Flair's reward was to get a chance to harmonize with Texas Bunny in one of the songs. Flair had a pretty
good voice and liked that. For this show Texas lost her cowboy hat and part of her name. She'd wear a
shimmering, silver gown and be accompanied by a trio in white tie and tails. She'd appear as plain Bunny
Long. Phil pointed out that the imitation of Texas Guinan that George tried for lacked class, in Bunny's
case. There was only one Texas Guinan.
Everybody was happy except George. On that night after the kids were dismissed and Phil and George
sat alone in the office George said he'd miss the old show. He looked frowzy in a rented dress suit,
compared to his usual sweater and baggy trousers.
"George, you've got to learn class," said Phil.
"Class is like beautiful women," sighed George. "I can't connect. I tried for Flair before you came along
and only got laughs. You knocked her off in only one day. I tried to help Texas Bunny with her throat
problem. She shucked me off and used the whale sperm Vic buys for her."
He rose sadly. "You lock up, Phil. I'm going out to see if any of my two dollar whores are left in town."
George left but came back almost immediately. "Guess who's standing in full costume by the tank,
weeping her heart out. Our singing star, Texas Bunny."
"What's her problem?"
"I dunno, Phil, but in my book that one's a candidate for Nut College. It's your show, you handle it."
George slid to the side door, waved and was gone.
A single light shown on the stage and sink. A single figure stood there disconsolately, weeping. Still
dressed in her long silver satin gown, with her platinum hair in wild disarray, Texas Bunny looked like a
princess who'd been deserted at the Royal Ball.
Phil paused a moment before hurrying to her. Damn, that was one gorgeous creature, especially with all
those curves tightly held and displayed in shimmering satin. She told Phil she'd lost her ring. It was a very [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]