Thirty-two
Bertha lounged in the dark in Gabby’s dreary basement
apartment just before midnight, feeling vaguely betrayed by the recent
turn of events. Gabby had found himself an unexpected new friend in Craig
Netherman. She could hear the sound of their hammers and drills as they
installed infrared sensors around the house. Craig had announced the
intention of turning the castle into the real thing, to defend the maidens
of the estate against mass attack.
“Adolescent,” had been Francis’ assessment of the man
during a get-together earlier in the evening.
“He’s trying to impress us,” Emily had added,
although Emily was always pleased at catching men behaving like peacocks.
“He’s good-looking in a rugged sort of way,” Evelyn
had taunted.
Bertha knew what they all thought of her Gabby, so
she had kept her mouth shut. Eventually she had wandered away from the
conversation.
The commotion died down. She went in search of the
men and found them connecting wires in Craig’s ground floor apartment.
When he flipped a switch, Gabby went outside and walked around the
building. Lights came on a make-shift panel of monitor lights, one by
one, following his progress.
“Neat,” she commented.
Craig glanced over at her in surprise. He grinned
and eyed her body, and Bertha sighed in frustration. Hey, the part of me
that thinks and talks is up here between the ears, she wanted to say. But
Craig turned away and had forgotten about her in the next moment.
She was on hand when Leroy Reinhart’s Cadillac pulled
up into the drive at one in the morning. Gabby muttered a startled, “Oh,
shit, here comes trouble.”
Bertha listened to the exchange that followed from
the side entrance. Leroy demanded the identify of the newcomer, and Gabby
floundered. There was going to be a lot he couldn’t explain. He tried a
few lies, but quickly floundered.
Bertha ran up the stairs and burst into Francis’
apartment. “Our landlord’s paying us a visit, and Gabby’s not doing very
well.””
Emily joined them. Francis turned to her for help.
“What can we do?”
Emily turned to Sally standing in the doorway.
“Remember the green robe stunt?”
Sally ventured a smile and a confident nod.
Emily turned back to Francis. “We can handle this.
Okay?”
Francis opened her mouth to demand an explanation,
then closed it as shouts filtered up the staircase.
Emil then turned to Bertha. “Go down the back way.
When we invite Leroy upstairs, tell Gabby we need him and his camcorder
behind our mirror pronto. Will he do it for us?”
Bertha gave a silent nod.
Emily ventured a reassuring smile. “Francis, be so
kind as to lure the gentlemen upstairs for us. We have something special
in mind for him.”
Bertha hurried away to do Emily’s bidding, racing
down the back steps and hanging back out of sight. “I want you people off
my property in twenty-four hours,” Leroy roared as Francis made her
appearance.”
“Not unless you give me written notification of our
eviction, sir. I have a budget I must account for. I have a pen and
paper upstairs...”
“Fine!” Leroy raced up the stairs ahead of her.
“I’ll give you your notice of eviction, and them I’m going to the police!”
Bertha delivered Emily’s orders to Gabby. With
sudden comprehension, Gabby grinned and hurried off to comply.
Bertha returned to Francis’ and Emily’s apartment in
time to hear absolutely nothing and to see Leroy frozen in place in the
living room, looking sideways through the bedroom door.
Leroy Reinhart had caught Sally coming out of the
bathroom. Sally hadn’t needed much preparation to look her best, maybe a
comb through her luxurious auburn hair and a touch of makeup to emphasize
her clear green eyes. And, of course, she had shucked her clothes.
To Bertha’s eye, Sally Largesse was one of the most
beautiful women on the face of the earth. She stood just over six feet
tall and possessed the alabaster body of a goddess. Sally paused in the
entrance to the bathroom with her lips parted, as if having been taken by
surprise.
“My goodness, Mr. Reinhart. I’m so sorry!”
Leroy turned pitch red. He turned away with a
horrified expression, as if prepared to flee for his life.
Emily blocked his way, stopping him dead in his
tracks. “Shame on you, Mr. Reinhart,” she said with a smile. She threw
an arm about the man’s shoulders, turned him about, and looked at Sally in
mock exasperation. “And as for you, you naughty girl, we haven’t time for
your fun and games. Mr. Reinhart has serious business to discuss with
Francis.”
Sally dipped her head in shame.
Leroy looked at the women
surrounding him in confusion. “I didn’t meant to barge in like
this...”
“You’re not intruding, Mr. Reinhart,” Francis said,
tentatively holding out a small notebook and ball point pen.
Leroy fought to regain his composure. “Who is that
man downstairs?” he asked mildly. “What is he doing to my property?”
“He and Gabby are adding some motion detectors,”
Emily said with a severe look. “We’ve had prowlers. Possums and
raccoons, in all probably, but it makes it hard to concentrate on our
typing and shorthand during the day when we can’t sleep soundly at night.”
Leroy tried his best not to stare at Sally. He fell
silent, transfixed by Sally’s beauty and contemplating a growing suspicion
of trouble brewing.
“If we had a prowler,” Emily taunted, “you can
imagine the temptation he might suffer peeping in our windows at night.
Sally should be ashamed of herself the way she flaunts that awful body of
hers, except she never is. Isn’t that right, Sally?”
Sally raised her head with a smile on her lips. She
sauntered forward and dropped suddenly to her knees in front of Leroy.
With a cry of astonishment, he turned to flee, or tried to, suddenly locked in
place by Emily’s strong hands on both skinny arms.
A spat of laugher escaped Bertha’s lips. Francis
shushed her with a frantic finger waving to and fro before her lips.
With his eyes wide with horror, staring down at
the naked woman kneeling before him, Leroy failed to notice that he stood in
full view of the bathroom mirror. He had no time to consider the
possibility that he had fallen into his own trap. In one smooth motion,
Sally pulled his tennis shorts and underwear to his knees down and made
short work of a sexual technique as old as the world’s oldest profession.
Leroy cried out as if in agony, then stood convulsing
with his eyes crossed and spittle running from one corner of his opened
mouth. Emily held him erect when his knees gave out, and then gave him a
friendly pat on the shoulder when he recovered. She pointed to the mirror.
“Sorry to have to catch you off-guard like that, but
smile for your wife, Mr. Reinhart!
“Say cheese!”
