Chapter 8
Ramsy Drive is a very quiet residential street in the older part of the city, not too well lighted at night. Tonight was no exception. Traffic was almost nil at this hour. We pulled up on the opposite side of the street and sat there checking the house.
A dim light burned somewhere behind the draped windows. There was no noise, no commotion. I looked in vain for some recognizable car.
Suddenly the front door opened, clicked shut. A man came down the shadowy walk, a bounce in his step. He was a big man and as soon as the light struck his face, recognition came. John Lilo!
I hurriedly stepped out of the car, crossed the street and confronted him.
He looked up, recognized me, and grinned.
"Thanks for coming," I said. "What happened?"
He chuckled. "I would say that at the moment every thing is under rigid control."
"Is Ortega in there?"
"He's in there."
"You're leaving?"
"I'm going after Ed Morgan," he said enigmatically, and grinned some more.
At the moment, Carol got out of the car and I introduced her. He grasped her hand and his eyes made a quick appraisal.
"Slip inside," he urged. "Go in easy. I think you'll get a boot out of what you see."
He was gone with a cheery, "See you later," heading toward his own parked car, further down the street.
"What gives?" Carol asked.
"That's a good question," I said, shrugging. We headed up the walk toward the front entrance of the Spanish bungalow.
Suddenly Carol pulled up. "Isn't Lilo the pizza king nudist you were telling me about?"
I nodded. "His wife Jill and his daughter Maria also are confirmed nudists of long standing."
Someone had clicked the safety; the door was unlocked. I depressed the hasp and we stole inside. For a moment there was silence. We were in a darkened hallway, carpeted and the light we had seen from the outside came in a strong shaft from the right.
We stole down the hallway, glad for the carpeting, toward an open door. The light spilled from this door in snowy brilliance. We heard voices now-a galaxy of feminine voices.
Then we pulled up, still deep in the shadow, peering into the room. There were drapes on the windows and they were all pulled tight at the moment, so that accounted for the dim exterior light.
The room was a photo studio of sorts. There was a camera on a dolly, the usual backdrops, overhead booms, spots and fill in lights-plus a big couch, replete with gaily colored cushions.
Mario Ortega was on the couch and evidently unhappy about it.
He looked much as a man might look after he had tangled with a wild bull or a moving freight train. His clothing was messed, his beret was gone, there were long scratches on his face. He lay there on the couch, panting for breath.
Then I saw a bevy of familiar faces. Sue Landon, Marilyn Brown, Maria Lilo, Luann Morris and Lisa Cummins.
They were tormenting Mario Ortega.
They were much like a conquering tribe of Indians, putting a prisoner through the paces before they gave him the axe. Only this time the prisoner happened to be a brave and the tormentors were squaws.
Carol started to enter the room and I pulled her back.
"Let's watch the show a moment!" I urged. "We've got a grandstand seat."
"Who are the girls?" Carol whispered. "Can't you guess?"
"I recognize the slim one-Lisa Cummins. I presume the others are all victims of Ortega?" I nodded.
"Then I'm going in," Carol said, her lips tightening. "I was a victim as well, remember?"
I remembered. I'd never forget the day she played school girl in that red sweater minus the bra.
We barged inside. If Mario Ortega noticed an addition to his tormentors, he didn't show it.
The girls gathered around. Suddenly someone clutched my arm and pulled me to one side. It was Maria Lilo, very provocative in a sweater that look-ed like it had been painted on.
"Mike, you're not interfering, are you?"
"I couldn't stand here and see murder committed," I said grinning, "but have your fun, before we run him out of town."
"You bet we'll have our fun!" Maria said and darted back to the torture ring.
One of her hands streaked out and Mr. Ortega lost part of his shirt.
"Pose, creep!" Maria said. "You're having your photo taken, remember?"
"You're so right!" Sue Landon said. "A nice full-length nude!"
She smiled at me and I smiled back. She seemed to be a far different girl tonight. Maybe she did get the dream back into her heart.
She pushed toward Ortega now and tugged at his clothes. He took a vicious swipe at her and she evaded the blow and landed her open palm against his face so hard it rocked his head.
Marilyn Brown moved in from the left and Lisa Cummins from the right. They got their hands in his pants and they yanked downward with all the strength at their command. Mr. Ortega suddenly was half-in, half-out of his pants.
He tried to get off the couch and each time, someone pushed him back among the pillows.
I turned to Carol, grinning. "Why don't you join the fun? I'll get the camera."
She weaved in quickly and sliced her hand upward along Ortega's long nose. He moaned and his hands grabbed for her, missed.
"That's for the retouching job you gave me!" Carol said with a vengeance, "that stud who was naked as a cue ball!"
The ring closed in tighter, a bit at a time. Ortega lay on the couch and whined. They had his glasses; evidently he saw them in a blur through his squinting eyes. They stood there and leered at him.
Then Maria and Luann closed in from the head of the couch and imprisoned his arms. Marilyn and Sue ran in, fell upon his kicking legs and proceeded to forcibly remove his pants from his angular frame, inch by inch. He fought all the way, but it didn't do any good. At last the pants were off and the two girls went after his shorts. Moments later, Ortega squirmed on the couch, nude as the day he was born.
"What a creep!" Maria said and made a face.
"He's skinny," Sue chortled.
"He doesn't even have hair on his chest," Marilyn screeched. Her hand reached down and she pulled. "Oh, I beg your pardon!" she said as he yelped in pain. "I did find a few stragglers after all!"
He lay there in his own torture chamber. His hands reached down. He tried to cover his loins, to turn on his side, away from them. They rolled him on his back and tore the pillows out of his hands.
And then Sue Landon did a very amazing thing!
She flung herself atop Ortega and her lips clamped over his mouth. He squirmed and pushed, trying to force her head back, but Sue held on. She pried open his lips with her fingers, and kissed him. She vacuumed his mouth into her own and suddenly I knew what she was attempting. Arousal with her own fiery well-trained tongue. Knowing Sue, remembering that binge I had had with her, I didn't for a moment doubt that the treatment would be effective, even under the adverse conditions in which it was being administered.
Sue's mouth clung and now she started using her hands.
I was right. He was really squirming now. He was trying to battle something bigger than he was. The squirming had a different meaning now.
Suddenly the girls were giggling.
"Man the camera!" Maria said.
I heard an off-beat noise at the moment-an extraneous noise. It sounded as if someone had come in or had quietly pulled the door closed, upon leaving.
I leaped for the hallway just in time to see the door latch move. Footsteps pounded down the sidewalk, toward a parked car on the opposite side of the street.
I got him, when he was inserting the key into the door lock of his Caddy. I remembered my first encounter with him and how he fought. I didn't take chances now. I belted him on the chin with all the steam I had. His head flipped back and his knees turned into rubber.
I got his body over my shoulder and stalked back to the house.
I was panting when I got to the studio.
He was moaning now, making guttural sounds as if he was very anxious to rejoin the festivities. I dumped him on the floor, quite unceremoniously.
"Come and get him!" I told the girls.
They gathered around, momentarily forgetting Ortega.
"That creep, LeBeau!" Marilyn said.
"He's a very good snooper for some very dirty magazines," I panted, still short of breath. "Evidently he sneaked in here, got his pictures and was beating it with one of the biggest stories of his career."
"He won't print that story now!" Marilyn said, venom in her voice.
She crouched down, showing some creamy flank and started rifling his pockets. She came up with a 35mm camera presently-one of those ultra-compact jobs with a fast lens that will take a picture in the most adverse light conditions. Marilyn ripped off the back of the camera and tore out the film, fogging it.
LeBeau was coming back to the land of the living now. He sat up, wondering, no doubt, just what had happened to him. He saw the girlish faces ringing him, he saw me and he also saw Ortega on the couch, still in a state of arousal.
"Well, girls, what's the verdict?" Marilyn asked.
T would say some good photos in the nude," Maria said. "Photos he can't print"
LeBeau was conscious of what faced him now. He started a vigorous harangue. When hands reached for him, he started swinging at his tormentors.
I moved in and rocked an open palm off the side of his head.
"Put your dirty hands on one of those girls and I'll cut you into ribbons," I said.
"You can't do this to me," he panted.
"You want to know something else?" Marilyn said, her anger growing, I'll strip down and pose with you, and when my old man sees that print, you'd better head for the African bush and stay there."
He was sweating.
For the moment, Ortega, the real target, was forgotten.
I happened to glance his way and he was stealing off the couch, trying to reclaim his clothes.
"No, you don't!" Sue shouted, and slammed into him so hard that he was flung back to his original position, bumping his head.
"Look!" LeBeau pleaded. "I know when I'm licked. I'll get out of town-and stay out of town."
"Of course you will!" Marilyn said sweetly, "but we want an insurance policy, something we can lock up for keeps in a safety deposit box."
She reached forward, ripped down on his shirt. Sue, Maria, Lisa-even Carol-moved in. They took turns, tearing off his clothes. Watching them, I couldn't help but compare them to a wolf pack, at the kill.
LeBeau stood there like a wooden Indian, a-fraid to move. If he moved, protested, or resisted, he knew he would get my fist or a girl's long fingernails. He was a very unhappy man.
And suddenly he was naked, all except nis shoes and socks.
The girls ringed him, as if he was a human May pole, and they were the dancers. And at last Marilyn stepped closer and her eyes glittered hotly-
She pulled open her blouse, until her elongated breasts were very much in view. Then she caught up LeBeau's right hand. She positioned the hand, fingers clutched on her blouse, as if he was ripping it downward.
He cringed back as he realized her sudden intention.
"I will not!" he protested.
He got a kick on the shin from Maria Lilo.
Sue Landon doubled her fist and drove it into his gut so hard he grunted.
"You're raping her, goon!" Maria said. "Better make it good."
He looked from one face to another, a trapped animal. He even looked at me. He didn't get one bit of sympathy. Perhaps everyone was remembering what he actually was.
Marilyn steadied the hand clutched in her bosom. At any other time it might have been quite pleasant, feeling that hot, pulsating breast under his fingers. But sex was the last thing he had in mind at the moment.
"Shoot the picture, Mike!" Marilyn urged and I got behind the view camera and adjusted the focusing.
It looked pretty good. In fact, it looked startlingly real. I waved the other girls to one side, to keep them out of the background. Marilyn assumed a look of terror that was a dilly. With her big breasts pushing out and her clothes awry, it was good e-nough for a horror book cover.
I clicked the shutter, the lights flashed and pushing back the film sleeve, I pocketed the holder.
The party was over.
LeBeau started for the door, dragging his torn clothing. He seemed to be too exhausted to care much what happened. Ortega followed him.
I cornered Maria. "How'd you get them all here?"
"I merely got on the phone," she grinned, "and had a lot of luck in finding them all home."
John Lilo's smile was tight and I waited, suspecting that he had bad news of some kind. He did.
"Ed thought we had better tell Barry Morris about his wife's strange illness," he said. "But Morris had known it for a long time. And tonight he faced her with the accusation."
Luann Morris came forward and stopped in front of Lilo. Her doll like features were suddenly stern, her face pale.
I walked over and stood at her side.
"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Luann," Ed Morgan said, "but your stepmother couldn't face the truth. She just walked away from her husband after the accusation and locked herself in her room. He was trying to unlock the door when he heard the shot"
It was instinct to place my arm about Luann's shoulders. I pressed her tight for just an instant
"I'm sorry it turned out this way, honey."
Her eyes turned to face me. There was no emotion on her face, none whatever.
"Don't anyone feel sorry for me," she said. "She was never a mother to me nor a wife to my father."
Ed Morgan gripped my hand and grinned at Carol. "I'll send you a check tomorrow. Maybe it'll be a wedding present"
I shook hands with John Lilo.
"Some night, after Carol and I get back from our honeymoon, we're coming over for some of that pizza you promised." I whispered something in his ear.
His hand descended on my shoulder. "We'll win her over, don't you worry about that!"
Hours later, as we sat alone on the beach, Carol suddenly turned inquisitive. "What did you whisper to John Lilo?"
"Nothing."
"You did too! You said something about nudism and about me!"
"We'll talk about that later," I said, and resumed my interrupted kissing....