Chapter 10

For a place like the Hotel Conestoga, it was still early in the morning. Sal went to the desk and asked for his key. He noticed the clerk looking him over, and noticed the sly smirk that came over the clerk's face. Sal glanced down at his clothes; they were still wet from the fire hose. He figured he didn't look so hot otherwise, he might have a bruise or two on his face.

The clerk gave him the key and said in a guarded low tone: "Rough party, Mr. Bennett?"

"Yen. Rough party."

The clerk's eyes danced with a kind of vicarious pleasure.

Sal went to his room, took off the wet suit, took a hot shower, shaved and then looked himself over. There was a mark under one jaw and another one on the side of his face. Otherwise, not too bad, except for the bleary eyes. No shiners, anyhow. Maybe they were smart enough not to leave him shiners. No, they weren't that smart. Bostock was clear out of his head a couple of times, a shiner wouldn't have made a damn bit of difference to him. Well, he hadn't got one anyhow.

He had a bottle of whiskey in the bathroom. He had a couple of slugs of it, and then he sent for breakfast. When he had finished he was feeling pretty good. A lot of bounce, he had. Anybody else would have been half dead after all that, but not him. There was a long mirror on the closet door, and he began dancing around in his shorts, shadow-boxing. The muscles rippled smoothly under his skin. He finished with a lightning left hook. Then he hung the Do Not Disturb sign outside the door, and lay down on the bed.

When he woke up, it was mid-afternoon. He packed away the damp suit, put on a second one he had in his suitcase, and checked out. He got a taxi and went to Penn Station, put his suitcase in a coin locker again. Then he took a taxi to Broad Street and got a Number 13 bus. He was short of money-short for any kind of circumstances, and impossibly short if he intended to make the nightclubs as he had two nights before.

He got off the Number 13 bus and walked up through the park, and climbed the rickety stairs once again. He let himself into the apartment and looked around. He figured Angela would be in the bar and it looked as though he was right. It was past three in the afternoon; by now she would be well on her way to being plastered. He stood around and listened for a while. There was no sound downstairs and he hadn't expected any; the couple in the lower apartment both worked and they were never there in the daytime and seldom at night, either.

Sal went down to the basement, opened up the plasterboard, and took out all his stuff. He slipped the Mauser into his pocket, then opened the trunk, fished around and found a manila envelope. He put most of the cash in that, but some-enough for the time being-into his wallet.

It was after five when he got to the Four Corners in Newark, and the evening rush was beginning to die down. Sal got off the bus and walked south, across Branford Place and halfway down the next block. He paused in front of Arcmson's Jewelry Store. The diamond pendant necklace was still in the window, and he looked at it idly, but at the same time he was studying the inside of the store. There were two clerks, a man and a girl. The girl was waiting on a woman, and the man seemed to be putting some of the stock away. The store closed at six o'clock. Sal sauntered back to the other window. The lady customer took her parcel and her change, came out, and vanished into the Broad Street crowd.

Well, why not? What the hell? He didn't have the Cadillac. He had to have something. Sal went inside, approached the man who was putting the stock away.

"I'd like to look at a nice necklace for my girl," Sal said. He felt cool and smooth. He was capable of anything.

The man turned around. "Yes, sir? What did you have in mind?"

"There's one in the window....In that case-" Sal pointed it out and the man got it from the window, laid it on the glass counter. Sal was standing, half leaning on the counter, with his back to the door. The man started to go behind the counter, in his usual place.

"Stay out from behind that counter," Sal snapped, "and you, too, sister. Stay away from those alarms. Come out in a hurry if you don't want to get hurt."

Sal had the Mauser in his hand. The man looked up, saw the gun, appraised the situation, and his face went white. He came right away from the counter. So did the girl, knocking half a dozen boxes on the floor as she did so.

"If you trip one of those goddamn alarms," Sal said, "they may get me but I'll get you first. You got that straight?" The man nodded, slowly, and the girl just looked at him with wide stunned eyes.

"Okay," Sal said. He picked up the diamond necklace, slipped it, box and all, into his pocket. He was watching the two, but at the same time he saw that underneath his elbow, in the glass case, there was a display of men's diamond rings. He reached around with his free hand, opened the sliding panel, picked one out. It was a real rock, it looked at you like the headlight of an express train. He tried it on his ring finger, it was too big. He slipped it on the middle finger. It fit all right. Well, who in hell cared what finger it was on? That rock would tell Carola everything she wanted to know.....

"Okay," he said. "Stay right where you are. Don't make a move for ten minutes or I'll come back someday and blow your heads off. Got it?"

Sal backed toward the door and when he got there he slipped the pistol quickly into his pocket and went out. On the way out he almost knocked over a fat man.

"So sorry," said the fat man.

"Rape you, too, buster," said Sal.

He got into the pedestrian crowd on Broad Street quickly, walked swiftly the half-block to Branford Place, turned left. Unless they had really believed that bull about coming back and blowing their heads off they would be out watching which way he went. They would also have the alarm in. They would figure he went west on Branford Place. Instead, he crossed the street to the taxi stand there, got into a cab.

"Penn Station," he said. "Make it fast. I got to catch a train."

At Penn Station he got his suitcase, went up the stairs and hopped onto a Hudson Tube train just as it pulled out. He saw two railroad bulls on the platform, but they were just chewing the rag. If there was an alarm, he guessed they hadn't got it yet. When he got to New York he took an Eighth Avenue subway uptown and got out at Times Square. He went to a hotel on West Forty-fifth Street called the Metropole. It was big, busy and moth-eaten with an air of faded splendor. It was patronized extensively by officers and crews of transatlantic ships. Behind the room clerk's desk there was a blackboard, and on it was written:

Crew of S.S. Auvergne: Meet at 4 A.M. in lobby. Captain Foray.

Sal figured that, of all the hotels in New York City, it was in this one that he would be about the least likely to attract attention.

He signed the register as Robert Simson, Muscatine, Iowa. No use using the James Bennett business again, there was too good a chance he might be traced from the Conestoga in Newark. Well, what the hell, maybe there wasn't any chance at all, but he wanted to play it safe.

He went to his room, washed up, took the manila envelope, got out enough money to last him for a little while, stuffed the rest of it back into the envelope and went down to the desk again. He put the envelope on the desk and wrote his name on it.

"I want you to keep some valuables in your safe," he told the clerk.

"What kind of valuables?"

"Cash."

"We'd rather not do it. Why don't you put it in the bank?"

"There aren't any banks open this time of night. Don't you know that?"

"Step this way, please."

He took him into the night manager's office, and the night manager helped him count out the money. There was seven thousand and eight dollars. The rest he had spent or had in his pocket. The night manager sealed it all up, put it in a safe, then gave Sal a receipt.

"Please put it in a bank tomorrow," the night manager said. "We don't mind keeping it for you, but it would be better if you put it in a bank."

"Okay," said Sal.

He went out, found a fancy men's clothing store on Fifth Avenue that was still open, bought a suit, insisted on the necessary alterations being made right there on the spot, bought half a dozen expensive shirts, two new pairs of shoes, eight ties, a tie clasp set with small imitation rubies, and packed the whole lot off, having paid for it by cash, leaving the clerks and the store's tailor staring after him, startled and pleased; that is, as pleased as anybody on Fifth Avenue ever gets.

He went back to the hotel, took a shower and got into the new stuff. He gazed at the flashing diamond on his left middle finger. Too bad it didn't fit the ring finger, but it didn't matter a hell of a lot at that. It looked like big money, and, if he had figured Carola right, that was all she asked.

He took the diamond pendant necklace out of his other suit, examined it, put it back in the box, dropped it into his pocket alongside the Mauser. He made a mental note; he would have to get another gun. A .32 wasn't worth a damn. It was all right for scaring people with, but otherwise it was just what it was always called: a suicide special. If you really wanted to stop a man a .32 wasn't worth a damn. It was hardly more dangerous than no gun at all. It would go right through him and unless you hit him in a vital spot he would keep on coming. Keep on coming, or going, whichever the case might be. Nothing under a .38 was worth a damn. He knew that. Everybody knew that. Well, he could manage another one; if he couldn't do it any other way he could get Squarehead Johanson to get him one. Squarehead knew how to get hold of a thing like that without getting caught at it.

Sal looked himself over once more. He looked like a million dollars, and a million dollars was just exactly what he wanted to look like.

At the Rococo Room, the tired marionettes-could they be the same ones?-were all sitting at their tables, and Carola was just finishing a new song.

He stood waiting for the headwaiter to seat him and while he waited he saw that Carola saw him. He let the headwaiter seat him beside a pillar. Carola finished the song, sang another, and then she was finished. She threaded her way among the tables and stood beside him. The lower lip had its faintly scornful curl but there was a small and guarded smile in her eyes, too.

"Hello, Sal," she said. "Glad to see you." She said it sulkily, as though she were making herself say it, like a little girl under a threat to say something nice at a party. But the small guarded smile remained in her eyes.

"Hello," Sal said.

"I have to change. You can wait for me here if you want to?"

She went off among the tables. She was wearing a sheath-like white gown; it showed the tight firmness of her body, the tight firm breasts, the tight firm hips.

Sal ordered a double scotch, at a cost of five dollars.

Carola came out, dressed in street clothes, a tight-fitting dress, extremely high heels. She was carrying the same bag that she had hit him in the face with.

"All right," she said, "let's go."

At the curb he called for a taxi. He saw the quick look of glittering suspicion in her eyes.

"Where's that car long as a block?" she asked.

"Had to get it fixed," Sal said. "The ignition was shot. You remember?"

She got into the taxi and he followed her. She was silent, staring at the back of the taxi driver's neck.

"Where shall we go?" Sal said.

"I wanted to go for a ride," she said with an edge of petulance. "But not in a taxi."

"Do you want to go to the Crown Club?"

"No," she said.

Sal was hit with a sudden flash of inspiration. There was a new disco that he'd heard about on the upper east side of Manhattan. There were lots of swinging people there and rooms that you could go off to with them if the two of you desired. He had heard that this was their slow night, so they probably wouldn't have much trouble getting in. The only problem was whether or not Carola would go for the whole idea. Oh well, they could always just dance there and if she was up for a little partying, all the better!

"Take us to Eighty-ninth and Third, please. The Bowl of Cherries Disco," Sal told the taxi driver.

Carola looked at him, a little surprised at his quick thinking and decisiveness. Sal squeezed her arm and Carola felt a warm tingle emanating from her crotch.

"Do you feel like a little dancing?" Sal asked her slyly.

"Sure. I could go for that," Carola looked directly at Sal and smiled. His crotch felt pretty warm also and he hoped that he didn't have a bulging erection to expose his feelings at that particular moment.

When they arrived at the club, the doorman looked them over very carefully. While Carola was standing off to one side, Sal slipped him some bills and then motioned for Carola to go in with him. The couple was confronted by a very effective sound system blasting the latest disco records. There were several attractive couples on the dance floor, which was elegantly furnished in gold, white and silver.

"Let's sit down for a few minutes. What would you like to drink?" Sal asked Carola politely, as they were ushered to a small table.

"How about a creme de cassis?" Carola looked to the waiter.

"I'll have a Bourbon on the rocks," Sal said.

When the waiter left, Sal slid in as close as he could to Carola and put his arm around her.

"This is a terrific place," Carola told him, looking him directly in the eyes.

Sal felt as if his cock were jumping three feet in the air. He couldn't remember being turned on in quite this way before-he was with a beautiful woman that he was in love with and there was an incredible potential for some pretty far-out sex in this place.

A slow song came on and Sal led Carola out onto the dance floor. They held each other tightly and were oblivious to all of the other couples on the dance floor.

Carola felt a meaty bulge against her leg at one point and realized that it was Sal's erect penis. She could feel her cunt growing moist as well and she wondered if she and Sal would make love to each other that night. Distracted by his cock, Carola took a look around at the other dancers. She noticed that periodically men and women and various combinations of the two would go off through one of several doors directly in front of the dance floor. She wondered about it, but was enjoying having her body pressed against Sal's.

When they were back at their table, sipping their drinks, Carola did ask him where all those people were going when they went through all those little doors.

Sal thought very carefully before answering her. He decided to tell her exactly what went on though, because she was bound to find out sooner or later.

"Carola, people go into little rooms and make love to each other and to other nice people that they meet here." He waited for the proverbial shit to hit the fan, but Carola just looked at him a little puzzled for a moment before answering.

"Sounds like a terrific idea!" she told him, with great enthusiasm. "Are we going to get into any stuff like that?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure, babe. Whatever you'd like."

Carola drank her crŠme de cassis down quickly, as if she needed it to help her get her nerve up. She sat quietly at the table with Sal for a few minutes, while he held her and slowly moved his hand against her breasts and up her thigh. He could feel her heart beating very rapidly and her skin was warm to his touch, Carola turned to look at him directly and their lips were pulled together in a deep and passionate tongue kiss. Carola felt the liquor going to her head and she knew she was now ready for anything. A striking young blond woman came over to their table and asked Carola to dance. Carola looked at Sal, who smiled and nodded, willing to go along with anything.

"My name is Blanche," the woman told her as they stepped onto the dance floor.

"Carola," Carola told her, gyrating her body to Diana Ross's latest disco record.

The two women made a stunning couple and the sexual electricity between them sent sparks flying right and left.

Actually, although Carola had never told anyone, she had made love to a few women in her day. But, usually the incidents were isolated and it was nothing she thought about consciously repeating. Carola felt particularly turned on by Blanche. She noticed the nice way her breasts pressed against the sequined border of her silver dress, which attractively accented her shapely hips. Blanche was extremely aware of Carola's roving eye and their mutual attraction to each other was making her hot pussy ooze with love lubricant.

As they danced, the two women observed a group of two men and a woman emerge from one of the small rooms. Blanche looked Carola directly in the eye and motioned with her head and eyes to the recently vacated room. Carola smiled and nodded and Blanche took her by the hand and led her through the door. Carola turned and waved at Sal, who was happily taking in the whole scene and enjoying another Bourbon.

"Have you ever been to the Bowl of Cherries before?" Blanche asked Carola, locking the door behind them.

"First time," Carola told her, checking out the small room that they had come into. It was dimly lit with soft blue light bulbs and there appeared to be blue satin paper on the walls. Blue cushions were thrown comfortably against the walls and in various places on the thick, blue, plush carpet. Carola felt relaxed in the peaceful atmosphere and was enjoying Blanche's warmth and directness.

The two women pulled some cushions together and sat down facing each other to chat for a while. Carola told her about her singing career and Sal and she learned that Blanche owned a boutique in Greenwich Village and was going back to school for an MBA.

"I know you will be a success at whatever you try to do," Carola told her, feeling tremendous energy flashing from Blanche.

"I feel that you are very special, also," Blanche said, reaching out her hand to Carola. Carola hesitated for a moment, but then fought back her inhibitions and took the other woman's hand. It was soft and smooth, and she let Blanche pull them closer together. For what seemed like several minutes, they touched each other gently, exploring each other's body in a comforting and non-threatening way. They moved their hands across faces, necks, arms and shoulders and ran their fingers through each other's thick, soft hair. Carola found her hands on Blanche's full breasts and when she massaged them, she felt as if she were touching her own tits. She looked down suddenly and realized that even though she was experiencing a great deal of spiritual vibrations, Blanche was actually touching her breasts the way Carola was touching Blanche's.

They undressed each other slowly and sensually, and as each piece of clothing dropped to the floor, Carola felt a tingle shooting from her clitoris to every nerve ending in her body. When the two women were completely naked, Blanche took Carola in her arms and they held each other warmly, letting their hands roam freely over expanses of soft, naked flesh. It seemed like an eternity to Carola before their lips met. But when they did, it was one of the sweetest kisses that she had ever experienced.

"I want to eat out your sweet snatch," Blanche whispered hoarsely into Carola's ear after she had rammed her tongue into it.

Their mouths were pulled back together, tongues probing and sucking in response to the sexual static flying through the air between them.

"Yes, oh YES!" Carola wailed, as Blanche laid her down on her back and sucked and nibbled her large tits. Blanche unleashed her tongue on her partner's body, flicking it from her breasts to her belly and up to the nape of her neck.

"You are so beautiful," Blanche said softly, burying her face in Carola's pubic bush. She ran her hands around Carola's softly curving hips and Carola reached out to touch her face. Blanche pressed her face into Carola's vulva and inhaled its rich scent before she ravaged her clitoris with her hot and talented tongue.

"Oooooo ... that feels ... so gooooood," Carola moaned as her body jerked from side to side in excitement.

"I want to make it really good for you," Blanche said. She traced her finger around Carola's vagina, tugging on the labia and teasing her cervix. Carola's cunt seemed to glisten with moisture, especially in the soft blue lights.

Blanche finally inserted her wriggling tongue into Carola's cunt, flicking and sucking as fast as she could. She kept her hands busy at the same time, squeezing Carola's ass cheeks and rubbing her hard-nippled breasts. Periodically, she would pull her tongue out of Carola's vagina to whip it back and forth across Carola's clit.

Carola's sensitive body could not withstand such stimulation for too long a time and much to Blanche's surprise, Carola exploded into orgasm with a great deal of screaming and moaning.

"Oooooooo ... BLANCHE!" Carola wailed as she drifted slowly back down to earth. The two women held each other and kissed warmly, Carola tasting her own cunt in Blanche's mouth.

When she opened her eyes, she noticed to her amazement that Sal was standing over them, completely naked, watching their every move with a smile on his face and his huge, hard dick sticking straight up. Blanche was a little surprised, too, but she was always prepared to go with the flow. She motioned for Sal to join them on the carpet and Sal did not need a written invitation.

"How did you get in here?" Blanche asked not unpleasantly. "Money talks," Sal said, sitting between the two women. "I slipped the waiter a couple of bucks."

"No matter," Blanche said shrugging. "You must be Sal, right?"

"Pleased to meet you ... uh...." Sal stammered, realizing that he didn't know the young woman's name.

"Blanche," she told him warmly.

Sal pulled her to him and kissed her on the mouth and Blanche laughed, amused and turned on by their sudden familiarity.

"If you'll excuse me, Sal, Carola and I still have some unfinished business. Of course, you can feel free to join in," Blanche told him with a sly wink.

Carola smiled at Sal, flicked her tongue between his lips, squeezed his rock hard prick and moved over to Blanche. The two women embraced each other like old friends and began to tongue each other passionately, letting their mouths move off periodically to nibble at ear lobes or suck on tits. And while the two women busied themselves with each other, Sal busied himself with Carola's cunt and clitoris. She stretched herself out on top of Blanche, and as the two women tongued, Carola was grinding her vulva into Blanche's body, dry humping like a man and a woman. Sal tickled Carola's clitoris from behind, feeling her pubic bush with his free fingers. Then, he inserted his middle finger into her vagina from behind. Carola moved her mouth down on Blanche's body so that she could eat her out and Sal adjusted his position so that he could continue to finger fuck Carola, entering her cunt the back way.

"Oooooo...." Carola squealed, ready to blow a gasket from the overload of sense stimulation that she was receiving.

"Mmmmm...." Blanche moaned, loving every move that Carola's tongue was making.

Carola was a quick learner and pretty inventive a lover, as well. She pulled on Blanche's labia with her teeth and used her mouth like a giant vacuum cleaner to suck out Blanche's vagina.

Blanche motioned for Sal to come closer to her, and Sal followed her direction. She pulled his penis to her mouth and began to go down on him, much to Sal's delight. He also had to keep a close watch on his circuits to keep them from blowing. And it wasn't easy! Blanche seemed to inhale his penile shaft and it seemed to disappear down her throat. She moved it back and forth, in and out, trying to massage his balls, too. Along with the in and out motions, Blanche flicked her tongue at the meat in a counterpuntal motion.

"Jesus!" Sal wailed, using every muscle in his body to prevent himself from coming too soon. When his position was stable, he reached for Carola's vulva again. He reinserted his finger in her snatch and started the imitation fucking action again. Carola struggled to concentrate on Blanche's pussy, but it wasn't easy. She was beginning to feel an overwhelming need to be fucked and Sal's was the only penis at hand. But, Carola was also drawn to Blanche's cunt like a fly to butter. She buried her face in it and applied her mouth and tongue to it relentlessly.

"Oh ... my ... GOD! I'm COMING!" Blanche shrieked as her body jerked and spasmed orgasmically. Sal's penis, temporarily unattended to, enjoyed the show just the same.

Even though Blanche had experienced her orgasm, Carola continued to caress her lovingly. She felt herself drawn to the woman and they had communicated a great deal between them.

"Mmmmm...." Blanche sighed ecstatically, loving Carola's tender caresses on her sensitized body.

Sal moved over to Carola and caressed her from behind. Her cunt was extremely wet and juicy and she squirmed excitedly at his touch.

"Oh Sal, fuck me. Fuck, me, Sal," Carola whispered to him. He tongued her ear and squeezed her breasts, reaching around her back. Drops of pre-cum fluid sparkled at the head of his cock and he wanted to screw so badly that his body almost ached. So, while Carola busied herself with Blanche's breasts, Sal opened Carola's ass cheeks and carefully inserted his penis into her vagina from behind.

"Ooooooo...." Carola exclaimed excitedly. "Fuck me, baby. FUCK ME!"

Sa! kneaded her firm ass cheeks as he pushed his cock into her cunt, slowly at first, but then progressively faster. Carola had an extremely tight pussy and this particular position seemed to provide maximum stimulation. He reached around her back and roughly massaged her tits, pinching the nipples with his strong and passion-inflamed fingers.

Carola, finding it harder and harder to concentrate on Blanche, rested her head on the young woman's belly. But Blanche, fascinated by the whole scene, slid out from under Carola and pushed her up on her knees. Then, while Sal continued to pump his meat into Carola's pussy hole, Blanche used her hands and mouth to stimulate Carola's breasts and clitoris, running her tongue up and down her chest and belly and fingering the oily love button, which was struggling to handle all of the stimulation. She couldn't fight the climax for very long, though.

I'm COMING!" Carola shrieked as a giant orgasmic wave swept over her body. Sal continued to pump his heavy tool into her and he was not able to hold his load in too much longer after that.

"Oh God...." Sal's voice trailed off as his penis blacked out his brain. His hips bucked wildly as his meaty rod pumped out its jizmy load into Carola's cunt. He felt like he was falling from a precipice and all he could do was continue to pump until his penis directed him to stop. When he had spent his wad, the three lovers lay there together exhausted, drifting into sleep in the mystical blue room.