And then I thought of having rooted Heller out of the Gracious Palms. To deprive him of those women was rare punishment. I had the upper hand when all was said. I laughed.
I thought I had better take the blanket off his viewer and enjoy his discomfiture.
He was standing in a park, looking out across the East River. A wintry wind was putting small whitecaps on the water and gulls were flying low.
He turned and his eyes rested for a moment on the Statue of Peace and then, passing on, looked down the Esplanade where the flags of many nations streamed and whipped.
Heller was at the United Nations!
A chill of premonition that had nothing to do with the stormy cold he saw swept across me. What business could he possibly have there?
His gaze was watchful on the broad walkway before the doors of the General Assembly Building, looking often down East 46th Street. I knew the area welclass="underline" He was expecting someone from the city to arrive here in the United Nations area.
A group caught his attention. There were five in it.
They were caped and hooded in furs. It was possible that he did not expect them to see him as he moved forward into plainer view.
The group stopped. One of them pointed at the distant Heller. They all looked.
Then they began to run toward him. They were calling out glad cries. "Pretty boy!" "Oh, you darling!"
They were running toward him and he was running toward them.
They met in a gladly shouting turmoil!
They were trying to kiss his cheeks and seize his hands.
They were women from the Gracious Palms! I recognized Margie and Minette and the tall high-yellow!
"Oh, pretty boy! We have been so lonesome without you!" cried one.
"We missed you so!" cried another.
"Eet 'as bean a zentury!" cried Minette.
My Gods, they were beautiful women! All bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked. What right did he have to such glorious creatures? He had never even slept with any of them!
"We didn't think you'd come," said the tall high-yellow.
"And miss this day?" said Heller.
"I can't think how you would," said Margie. "After all, it was your idea."
"No, no," said Heller. "It was Vantagio's. He's the political expert. And you girls did all the work."
Minette said, "Oh, an' 'ow we 'ave work'! So veree, veree 'ard! We 'ave lobby an' lobby, night after night, up and down. All ze girls 'ave really put eet to ze delegates: eef zey don' pass ze bill, we knock zem up! An' we boycott zere pantings."
"I think these UN delegates got the point," said
Margie. "Any delegate that doesn't vote a loud 'aye' on this bill knows he'll be under sanctions at the Gracious Palms."
"We really put our backs into it," said the high-yellow. "This is one thing they can't take lying down!" "Oh, I think the bill will pass the General Assembly," he said.
I was stunned. I had heard one or two of them mention to Heller, when he sat in the Gracious Palms lobby of evenings, that they were "working on something" with the UN delegate customers. But I didn't have a clue what chicanery had been going on in the dark of those whores' rooms. What was this bill?
"We had better go in," said Heller. "It's coming up on the time for their final vote."
They rushed in a happy mob through the doors of the General Assembly Building and up to the information desk in the lobby. A uniformed girl there looked up in some disapproval at their laughter and bustle.
"You have special tickets for us," said the high-yellow. "The Delegate of Maysabongo said they would be here."
"Ah, yes," said the clerk. "Five passes to the public gallery."
"Six," said the high-yellow.
The clerk had the envelope out and open. She counted five.
"I weel zit on pretty boy's lap," said Minette.
"No, I will," said Margie with decision.
The high-yellow was reaching across the clerk to the passes in their boxes. She picked up one. "Nobody will," she said.
"You can't do that!" said the clerk. "We are supposed to hand these out on a first come, first served basis. But this is a special session and we are expecting the wife of the president of the United States and a whole party from the Women's Liberation League...."
"First come, first served," said the high-yellow, "is exactly the system we use, too."
The clerk grabbed for the purloined ticket. "You can't!"
"Can," said the high-yellow. "This is our bill that's being voted on! But if you're going to be that way about it, why don't you call the president of the General Assembly and tell him you are preventing Beulah from attending!"
A guard came over. "I must caution you against unseemly noise here in the lobby and also if you are attending a meeting of the General Assembly, there must be neither noise nor applause in the public galleries. I think it might be best if you were to give the tickets back and..."
"You tell your clerk that," said the high-yellow. "And if you want to keep your job, be polite. Here's your ticket, pretty boy. Shall we go in?"
I wondered why the guard was suddenly escorting them to the entrance of the public galleries until I noticed Beulah, the high-yellow, had him by the arm just above the elbow. (Bleep) that Heller! He had taught these whores how to handle men. A traitor!
They arrived in the public gallery, took front-row seats, and the girls were taking off their furs. They were beautifully dressed, satins and brocade. They got out compacts and repaired their makeup.
The General Assembly was a vast hall of soothing elegance.
There were just a few delegates on the floor so far. Others were arriving from time to time. They were very conscious of their own dignity as they took their seats behind the signs of their countries. But what was this?
More than one of them glanced shyly toward the girls and made little hand motions that were extremely subdued waves.
A tremendous bustle and fanfare occurred. The gallery suddenly swarmed with agents. The wife of the president of the United States came in, ignored by the delegates.
Another bustle. Some females with Women's Liberation League ribbons across their chests came in. Also ignored.
What was this bill? A fear began to rise in me that Heller, whom I had supposed was down and out, retained a lot of influence. It was bad news to me.
At length the hall below was apparently as full as it would become. The public galleries were packed. Things were ready to begin.
Heller and the girls were picking up the headphones in front of their seats. There was a dial there. It said English, French, Spanish, Russian, Chinese. Minette, beside Heller, was having trouble with the earphones and her hairdo. Heller helped her and then dialled French for her. He put his own on and dialled English. He looked up at the glass-enclosed translator booths on either side of the UN emblem. The place was mobbed with TV crews and their chatter was coming over the line. Evidently the media thought this was pretty important.
But what the Hells bill was it? To bomb the Voltar base? To declare Soltan Gris an international criminal? I was worried.
The president of the General Assembly came in and took his place at the rostrum in the center of the oval hall. He opened the proceedings.
"We are met here today," he said, "for the final vote on UN Resolution 678-546-452. May I call for any last minute afterthoughts or reservations?"
Holland got the floor. "It is our consideration that this bill will shake the world." The fat Dutchman looked up at the gallery and covertly winked.
India wrapped a robe about himself and said, "I believe it must pass because of the riots in Pakistan."