Chapter 5
"I've some good news for you, Randy," Irene says, as the three of them-Randy, Cranston and herself-eat supper.
"Oh? And what might that be, my dear?"
"Well, you know how you're always reminding me that what happens in the bedroom happens because I want it to?"
"You're telling me that you fully accept that, finally?"
"Well, yes, but that's only part of it."
"What more could there be?"
"I've decided to seek professional help, Randy."
And Cranston immediately experiences a choking fit, a quite genuine, potentially serious one as, red- faced and choking, he cannot catch his breath.
So that Randy Buck must shoot up from his chair, pull Cranston's back, yank him out of it and administer the Heimlich maneuver.
Once, twice, three times, his locked fists in Cranston's solar plexus as he grasps him from behind, Randy jerkily lifts Cranston off the floor, before a wad of meat expels itself onto the gleaming white linen of the tablecloth.
"Thanks, Randy," Cranston says, wiping the tears from his bloodshot eyes, recovering his breath as he seats himself again, quickly capturing the offending morsel with his napkin, covering it, then scooping it up.
"You seem to have upset Cranston with your news, my dear."
"Randy," Cranston says, speaking hoarsely, "you know damn well she can't-"
"Come, come, come, Cranston!
"My wife, the light of my life, has recognized that she has a problem and has decided to deal with it.
"Good heavens, man, the least we can do is to tender sympathy and understanding.
"Why, you remember when I myself sought such help, not too long ago."
"Mmmm," Cranston responds grimly, looking away from him.
"You, you did?" Irene asks.
"Yes, matter of fact, I did.
"Helped me quite a bit, the fellow did-in a way.
"Basically, I went there to find out if there was anything in my thinking which caused the Baroness to be able to consistently defeat me.
"Turns out, there was.
"Turns out, unfortunately, there still is."
"Are you, uh, are you still working on the problem with him?"
"Can't.
"Died, poor fellow.
"He and his receptionist both.
"Murdered by intruders who torched the place to cover their tracks.
"Regrettable, actually.
"He could have been of immense help to me, eventually, I'm sure of it.
"As it is, well, what can I say?
"But enough about me.
"I want to help you in every way possible, of course.
"Matter of fact, Cranston, didn't we only just finish giving a generous endowment to a rest home?"
"Rest home?
"I don't think-oh!
"You mean the Foundation for the Sociopathically Disturbed.
"I uh, I imagine they'd be able to help her, yes.
"And the facility is very... secure."
"There, you see, my dear?
"This way, you can devote yourself full time to your problem, get things cleared up in record time, no doubt.
"These once a week visits don't really do all that much good anyway, in my opinion.
"They would eventually, but then we never know what can happen.
"I mean, take me, for example.
"My doctor died, poor fellow."
"I uh, I do hope that you'll be, shall we say, discrete.
"I mean, I shouldn't think it necessary to name names in describing these fantasies of yours which I and Cranston and Eric have worked so hard, at your behest, to make into reality."
Amazing, she thinks, that we should be going through this charade.
Still, he must have some reason for acting the way he is.
She would have thought his reaction would be that of Cranston, but he seems quite determined to take the opposite tack.
Unless- "You uh, you know the people in charge at this... place?" she asks.
"Oh, yes. Not too well personally, of course, but by reputation.
"The foundation is basically designed to help those who can afford to do so to arrange for their maladjusted relatives who have run afoul of the law because of their condition to avoid the usual facilities for the criminally insane in favor of private treatment.
"The courts recognize the facility and its staff, of course, so, as a result, the patients get the best of private care, the state is spared public expense and everything works out for the best all round, wouldn't you agree?"
"But I haven't done anything wrong, Randy."
"Not a problem, I assure you!
"There are quite a few of the staffs private patients receiving intensive treatment there.
"I'll just phone ahead to let them know you're coming and you can check yourself in.
"Which will be-when?"
"Day after tomorrow?
"Is that too soon?
"No, that would be just fine.
"I'll see to it that you get VIP treatment."
I'll just bet you will, she thinks.
Which is why, thinking fast, she has given herself an extra day.
Because she knows exactly what she has to do tomorrow.
"I must tell you, Irene, that I've been very concerned about you," Cynthia says, facing her across the bare marble top of her huge desk. "I must tell you also that I was quite surprised to hear that you were in the lobby."
"Tell me about my husband," Irene says, not responding to either of Cynthia's statements, practically able to see the wheels turning as Cynthia computes how to turn this turn of events to her own best advantage in her ongoing war with Randy Buck.
"You mean tell you what kind of trouble you're in?"
"Comes down to the same thing, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does, matter of fact."
"Randy and I go way back.
"It started, really, when he owned Buck's Castle, a huge, concrete block maze designed to look like a medieval castle from the outside, where he ran an S&M club, calling himself the Seneschal and watching everything that happened at the Castle on remote cameras from his console in the basement of the Estate.
"He used the club as his own private puppet show.
"For members only, it was, the men and women who belonged to it representing every shade of perversion and mental disorder known to man.
"It was a real house of horrors, no holds barred.
"And him sitting back and watching it all.
"The sickness would have gone on there forever, if I hadn't put a stop to it with the aid of smoke bombs, spray paint for the cameras and some connections of mine with the state police, who involved the sheriff's department and of course the fire departments of five surrounding towns.
"My marketing vice president, Nancy and I risked our lives there shutting the place down in an attempt to stop Randy.
"But he slithered out of it, letting Eric take the fall."
"Did uh, did anyone ever get killed there?"
"Very probably, but nothing could be proven.
"Randy then tried to kill me at a masked charity ball, with the assistance of-never mind.
"Suffice it to say that she runs a well-known chain of hotels here in the city.
"Anyway, I switched champagne glasses with him and he ended up in the hospital.
"There were other attempts on my life, other efforts by him on a much smaller scale to indulge himself in his perversion, everything from kidnapping Nancy so that I would have to rescue her to trapping women and bringing them to the Estate to torture them in his private dungeon."
"You mentioned a console, a dungeon-none of these are in the basement of the Estate now."
"Oh, I know.
"The console he removed lest it be traced back to him from the Castle.
"His private dungeon was ordered dismantled by the state police, lest he face arrest.
"His next really major scheme was called the Brotherhood of the Body, calling himself the Abbot this time around.
"It was a collection of psychopaths disguised as monks who would take runaway girls from the bus terminal, mostly and bring them up to his monastery, where they were in charge of a dominatrix while awaiting the tender mercies of Randy and his merry band of sadistic killers.
"Nancy and I broke into the place, where we convinced the dominatrix that she was on the wrong side.
"She helped us rescue the girls and eventually became my chief of security.
"As for the monastery, Randy had charges planted in the place that could be detonated by remote control, thereby preventing its being captured intact, as happened with the Castle. "Roberta-my security person, she is today- took the remote with her when we left.
"Buck was in the monastery, but he discovered that the detonator was missing in the nick of time, apparently.
"Because he made it out of the place when I blew it up, taking his gaggle of homicidal maniacs with it."
"A few more attempts on my life, a few more efforts at starting up his hobby again, thwarted by me, as usual, but Randy was soon up to his old tricks again.
"This time, he revived his old sex club from the Castle days, taking it out to sea, courtesy of Samantha Steele.
"The only variation being that he again lured runaways from the bus station, taking them first to the Estate, then to the yacht for the party.
"Roberta, Nancy and I rescued the girls and blew up the ship.
"This, of course, drove Randy wild and he contracted with a professional spy and assassin to do me in.
"But not before consulting a shrink to see if he could discover what he was doing wrong, why he always lost to me.
"Naturally, the psychiatrist couldn't be permitted to live and his records had to be recovered and destroyed.
"Randy contracted for the hit on the doctor.
"All of which brings us to you.
"You, of course, are merely his latest project, as you might or might not have suspected.
"Tell me about life chez Buck."
And Irene does, starting with her whirlwind courtship and leaving out none of the details.
When she has finished, Cynthia says, "I knew nothing of his connection with this so-called foundation.
"You're probably going to be in terrible danger there."
"I figured as much.
"You're in terrible danger at the Estate too. Did you figure that out as well?"
"Pretty much, yes."
"That's why I felt I had nothing to lose, doing as I did."
"You should have seen Cranston's face! He almost choked to death, you know."
Cynthia smiles.
"I would love to have seen that," she says. "And it figures that if Randy ever saved anybody, it'd be somebody just like him."
Suddenly, she is serious.
"We've got to get you some help or you'll never survive your little visit to the Foundation."
"What uh, what kind of help."
"Leave that to me.
"Don't be in any hurry to check into the place tomorrow.
"I don't think I need any extra time, but just in case.
"This uh, this Foundation-never mind.
"I'll take care of everything.
"You could be in for some bad moments there, but no worse than you'd have back at the Estate.
"And, as I say, I will get some protection to you."
"I uh, I guess I'll have to depend on you, Baroness."
"If not me, who?"
"That's why I felt I had to come here."
"You did the right thing, Irene.
"Remember, by his own admission, Randy Buck has never won when he's been up against me."
"No, but you've never put him away, either.
"And there have been... casualties."
"True, true," Cynthia sighs, getting up from behind her desk, coming around it, escorting Irene out of her office, "but there's always risk in life."
"My life is in your hands," Irene says, "and I'm not very effective, I'm afraid.
"I mean, I called Randy's bluff and he rose to the occasion."
"Trust me to do no less, Irene."
And Irene, with a last apprehensive glance at Cynthia, leaves.
Cynthia goes back to her desk at once and punches in Roberta's number.
"My office, right away," she says. "No, change that."
"Find Ultimo and get him in here at once.
"While he's on the way, I want to see you and bring you up to speed.
"Seems our old friend Randy Buck has made some rather interesting moves, right under our noses.
"Okay, get cracking on this; we haven't got much time."
"... and that's the story, Roberta.
"This Foundation thing disturbs me more than Irene's situation, frankly.
"Randy Buck has got himself a candy store there.
"A selection of the worst psychos, a staff in his pocket and the legal system bought it, lock, stock and barrel.
"That Foundation has got to be dismantled.
"Ultimo on his way?"
"Yes, but won't Buck remember him?
"After all, we did use him to help rescue Nancy from the Estate.
"That's right, but remember? We didn't blow Ultimo's cover.
"He was detained along with Buck and his two stooges before Buck's lawyer could get them released on a technicality."
"You sure Buck never caught on?"
"I doubt it. He never trusted Ultimo to begin with, but Ultimo didn't give himself away, either.
"Besides, who else have we got that we can use?
"Get Ultimo's work history together.
"You know-background as orderly and convicted sex offender.
"That should get him right into the Foundation, where he is to keep a close watch on Irene and find out whatever else he-what's the matter, Roberta?"
"You trust Ultimo?"
"Hey, he's your old boyfriend, Roberta, boyfriend and former partner in that domination business you had at one time.
"What makes you think we can't trust him?"
"Because when push comes to shove, Ultimo is liable to pull back to see which way the wind blows.
"Remember how we almost got killed at the Estate?
"If your buddy Captain Reynolds of the state police hadn't arrived just in time-"
"Well what did you expect him to do against automatic weapons, Roberta?
"I think he played it just right, myself."
"Mmmm."
"Anyway, Roberta, who else do we have on such short notice?"
"Nobody, I guess.
"I just wish I could be sure he won't fold in the clinches."
"You just get his package ready. I'll brief him when he arrives."
Once again, Cynthia is impressed with Ultimo's hugeness.
It is as though he comes from some parallel universe, in which people are constructed on a slightly larger scale than those on earth.
He must twist his body to get through an ordinary door.
Six and a half feet tall, over three hundred pounds of solid muscle, he has a shaved bullet head which adds to his unearthly appearance.
And his wry grin, Cynthia knows, is at the memory of her use of what he has to offer, at the recollection of a night they spent together in her penthouse.
"So, Ultimo, how've you been?"
"Oh, all right, I guess. This bounty hunting business has its moments.
"I understand you've some work for me."
And he sits down in a chair in front of her desk.
And listens to Irene's story.
"... so you see, Ultimo, she called Buck's bluff, only to have it backfire.
"I need you in there to find out what's going on and to keep Irene safe."
"The safest thing would be to get her the hell out of there ASAP," Ultimo observes.
"Not, not before there's a good reason, an incontestable reason to do so.
"I want you to take your time, observe what goes on there, get evidence if you can and only at the last possible moment rescue Irene."
Ultimo looks at her, grinning.
"This isn't about Irene at all, is it, Baroness?"
And she smiles back, without warmth, her eyes not amused.
"It's about Randy Buck and you know it.
"This time, he's gone too far."
"His specialty is going too far, Baroness."
"And mine is stopping him," she responds.
"Temporarily," he appends. "All too true, as it turns out," Cynthia sighs, looking away from him, out the picture window behind her at the dreary industrial skyline of the Jersey flats, with the girdered, ugly overpasses, the rusty, decaying metal industrial buildings, the railroad tracks below.
Then, turning back to him, "Which is why, this time, I want to get the goods on him so that he can be ruined in reputation and put behind bars."
"Maybe I can get the chance to, uh, to solve the problem permanently."
"Don't be ridiculous, Ultimo."
"Buck won't be anywhere near the Foundation."
"He's the financing behind it, but he himself probably stays as far away from it as possible, physically.
"If he wants to know what's going on, he phones.
"If he wants the uh, the use of one or more of the inmates, he sends Eric to pick them up in the middle of the night.
"No, we're going to catch Randy Buck on paper, after we find out for sure just what kind of a horror show he's running."
"Okay.
"But uh, how do I contact you?"
"You don't. Not from the Foundation, anyway.
"You call me from someplace where you go for lunch, or on your time off, whatever.
"And only when you have something to report."
"He calls me at least once, every other day," Roberta says, entering with papers for Ultimo.
"How are you, Ultimo?"
"Fine, fine."
"As I said," Roberta continues, handing Ultimo the sheaf of papers in a file folder, "you call me, every other day, whether you've got something to report or not."
"Got it."
"Okay, then," the Baroness says, "get over there and get hired."
"You sure they have an opening?"
"For you, they'll make one, I'm sure," Cynthia says. "That appearance and the background Roberta has provided make you a shoo-in.
"Any questions?"
"Nope."
"Then good luck."
"And try not to have too good a time," Roberta adds.
"I always have a good time, Roberta, remember?"
"Only too well. Go."
And he does.
"Yes, yes, you'll do just fine.
"You are, uh, completely over your, your... urges, are you not?"
"Oh yes. I haven't raped anybody since I got out," Ultimo replies.
"Very good, Max.
"And in fact, I have some even better news for you.
"Our therapeutic methods here are rather unique.
"We ask that our staff, from time to time, double as sexual surrogates.
"Do you know what that is, Max?"
Max. Ultimo's cover identity.
"Yes. That's where you kind of act out a part in a sexual act, like you represent somebody else."
"Excellent! I see you have a very good grasp of the concept, in layman's terms, Max.
"Except that it's not an act, but a very realistic, accurate recreation of a sexual situation.
"We here at the Foundation specialize in such treatment, following the philosophy of Dr. Gregory Grant, a psychologist in whom our chief patron and chairman of the board reposed great confidence, up to his untimely demise.
"We give each of our new employees a copy of Dr. Grant's paper, Realism Cathexis in the Treatment of Certain Psychic Disorders, in which the underlying theory behind such treatment is set forth in very clear, easy to understand terms.
"The bottom line of the approach is really quite simple.
"By working through, that is, actually performing certain acts in a clinically controlled, that is, observed environment with specially briefed surrogates, the patient is able to reconcile his actions with the real world and thus work through the fixation.
"In this fashion, we work our way through the obsession, downgrading it steadily, from psychosis to neurosis, from neurosis to preoccupation, from preoccupation to interest, from interest, through satisfaction to satiation, resulting, ultimately in disinterest.
"This uh, this disinterest is, of course, from the patients' point of view. Most of the staff who... assist us in such things find the work very enjoyable, one might almost say exciting."
"Sounds like my kind of place," Ultimo responds, grinning.
"Somehow," the white-coated personnel manager says, rising from his chair, "I just knew it would."
They shake hands.
"You'll have a bunk and locker assigned to you to accommodate the rotating schedule here," the man continues, leading Ultimo out of his office and down a hallway, ducking into a heavy swinging set of double doors.
"Sorry about the barracks-like environment, but it's clean, there are plenty of showers, an excellent lavatory facility.
"And we've a competent janitorial staff."