overdone fairy tale. You are worshipped by him. Your beauty exceeds that of any creature that God has ever created. And you are a perfect perfect person, without spiritual or physical flaw. And the prince, your husband, comes to you now on your wedding night to express at last the pure, religious, sacred, holy passion he has for you. Receive his love with joy: I had spoken slowly and hypnotically and began with what I hoped was appropriate delicacy and religiosity to caress her body and touch it with the most spiritual kisses. Spiritual kisses, for the average reader's information, are relatively dry, 'gentle and poorly aimed: that is, they approach central target zones but always manage to just miss. I was proceeding with increasing devotion and pleasure when her body suddenly disappeared: she had leapt out of bed.
`Stop touching me,' she yelled.
I felt as embarrassed and undignified as I had the night before. `Are you taking away my power already?'
I said.
`Yes, yes!' She was trembling.
I remained on my hands and knees looking up at her.
`Get dressed,' she said. `Get out' `But Linda The deal is over. Off. Get out.'
`Our deal was-'
`Out!' she shouted.
`Okay,' I said, getting down off the bed. `I'll leave. But at nine forty-five tonight I'll be back. The deal is on.'
`No. No no no. It's off. You're insane. I don't know what you want, but no, never, it's off.'
I slowly dressed and, receiving no new command from a sitting, face-averted Linda, I left.
I remained outside the apartment building, trailed her downtown when she left about an hour later, remained outside
an apartment in the Village until five thirty in the afternoon and then followed her to a restaurant, where she ate. She didn't seem to be aware that I was following her or even that I might be following. Organic chemistry picked her up after supper and starting with him, she wandered from bar to bar, picking up friends, losing them, gaining others, drinking heavily and generally doing nothing interesting. At nine forty-five on the dot I moved in. Linda was seated at a table with three men I'd sever seen before; she looked drowsy and drunk. One of the men had his hand way up under
her skirt. I came to the table, looked hypnotically into her eyes and said: `it's a quarter of ten now, Linda. Come with
me.'
Her blurred eyes cleared briefly, she coughed sad wobbled to her feet.
`Hey, where you going, baby?' one of the men asked. Another took hold of her arm.
`Linda is following me,' I said and took a step nearer the guy who had taken her arm and loomed over him and stared
down with what I tried to make seem suppressed fury. He released her.
I glared once briefly at each of the other two men and turned and left. With what must have been considerably less dignity than Peter or Matthew following Jesus, Linda followed.
Chapter Fifty-nine
[Being a questioning of Dr. Lucius Rhinehart by Inspector Nathaniel Putt of the New York City police regarding the unfortunate escape of thirty-three mental patients from a performance of Hair. Six of the patients are still at large.]
`Mr. Rhinehart, I-' `It's Dr. Rhinehart,' interrupted Dr. Mann irritably.
`Ah, excuse me,' said Inspector Putt, ceasing his pacing briefly to. stare back at Dr. Mann seated beside Dr. Rhinehart
on a low, ancient couch in the inspector's office. `Dr. Rhinehart, first, I must inform you that you are entitled to have a
lawyer present to rep-'
`Lawyers make me nervous.'
`- resent you. I see. All right. Let's proceed. Did you or did you not meet with Eric Cannon in the cafeteria of QSH
between the hours of ten thirty and eleven fifteen on August 12?'
`I did.'
`You did?'
`I did.'
`I see. For what purpose?'
`He invited me to see him. Since he was a distinguished former patient of mine, I went' `What did you talk about?'
`We talked about his desire to see the musical Hair. He informed me that many of the patients wanted to see Hair.'
`Anything else?'
'I shook the dice and determined that I would do everything is my power to take Eric and thirty-seven others to see
Hair.'
`But, Luke,' interrupted Dr. Mann. `You must have realized the incred -'
'Steady, Dr. Mann,' said Inspector Putt. `I'll handle this.'
He came and stood directly in front of Dr. Rhinehart, his tall, slender body leaning forward, his sharp gray eyes falling
coldly on his suspect. `After you decided to help Cannon and others to leave the hospital, what did you do?'
`I forged Dr. Mann's signature on letters to me and to several others and proceeded to effect the temporary release of
the patients.'
`You admit this?'
`Of course I admit this. The patients wanted to see Hair.'
`But,' but said Dr. Mann.
`Steady, sir,' interrupted the inspector. `If I understand your position now correctly, Dr. Rhinehart, you are now
confessing that you did, in fact, forge Dr. Mann's signature, and on your own initiative obtain the release to go to
Manhattan of thirty seven mental patients.'
`Thirty-eight. Absolutely. To see Hair.'
`Why did you lie to us before?'
'The Die told me to.'
'The…'
The inspector stopped and stared at Dr. Rhinehart. 'The die . . . .yes. Please describe your motivation in taking the
patients to Hair.'
'The Die told me to.'
`And why did you cover up your trail by forging Dr. Mann's signature and pretending to try to see Dr. Mann?'
'The Die told me to.'
`Your subsequent lying was 'The Die told me to.'
`And now you say-'
'The Die told me to.'
There was a very long silence, during which the inspector stared neutrally at the wall above Dr. Rhinehart's head.
`Dr. Mann, sir, perhaps you could explain to me precisely what Dr. Rhinehart means: `He means,' said Dr. Mann in a
small, tired voice, `that the dice told him to.'
`A cast of the dice?'
'The dice.'
`Told him to?'
`Told him to.'
`And thus,' said Dr. Rhinehart, `I had no intention of permitting any patients to escape. I plead guilty to forging Dr.
Mann's signature on trivial letters which, as I understand it, is of misdemeanor, and to showing poor judgment in the handling of mental patients, which, since it is universally practiced by everyone else associated with mental hospitals, is nowhere considered a crime of any sort.'
Inspector Putt looked down on Dr. Rhinehart with a cold smile.
`How do we know that you did not agree to help Cannon and Jones and their followers escape?'
'I will give my statements and, when you get close enough to talk to him again, you will have Mr. Cannon's statements,
which, however, will be inadmissible as evidence no matter what he says.'
`Thanks a lot,' the inspector said ironically.
`Does it not occur to you, Inspector, that in telling you that I forged Dr. Mann's signature, I may be lying because the
Die has told me to?'
'What-'
`That in fact my original statements of innocence may be the true ones?'
`What? What are you suggesting?'
`Simply that yesterday when I heard that you wished to question me again, I created three options for the Die to
choose from: that I tell you I had nothing to do with the order to go to Hair; that I tell you that I initiated the excursion
and forged the orders; and thirdly, that I tell you I conspired with Eric Cannon to help him escape. The Die chose the
second. But which is the truth seems to me to be still an open question.'
`But, but.'
`Steady, Inspector,' said Dr. Mann.
`But - What are you saying?'
'The Die told me to tell you that the Die told me to take the patients on an excursion to Hair.'
`But is that story the truth?' asked Inspector Putt, his face somewhat flushed.
Dr. Rhinehart shook a die onto the little coffee table in front of him. He examined the result.