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She half-turned, displaying a fine length of leg, taut against the baggy
dress. "Thank you. 'Bye."
"Good-bye."
She left the office, and Crewes sat down again. He pushed papers around the
outer perimeter of his desk, making Handy wait. Finally, when Handy had
allowed Crewes as much punishment as he felt his recent original sin deserved,
he spoke.
"You've got to be out of your mind, Arthur!"
Crewes looked up then. Stopped in the midst of his preparations to remark on
Handy's discourtesy in entering the office during an interview. Crewes waited,
but Handy said nothing. Then Crewes thumbed the comm button on the phone. He
picked up the receiver and said, "Roz, ask them if they'll be kind enough to
wait about ten minutes. Fred and I have some details to work out." He listened
a moment, then racked the receiver and turned to Handy.
"Okay. What?"
"Jesus Christ, Arthur. Haskell Barkin, for Christ's sake. You've got to be
kidding."
"I talked to Valerie Lone last night. She sounded all by herself. I thought it
might be smart therapy to get her a good-looking guy, as company, a chaperone,
someone who'd be nice to her. I
remembered this Barkin from--"
Handy stood up, frenzy impelling his movement. Banging off walls, vibrating at
supersonic speeds, turning invisible with teeth-gritting. "I know where you
remembered this Barkin from, Arthur. From
Billie Landewyck's party, three years ago; the pool party; where you met
Vivvi. I know. He told me."
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"You've been to see Barkin already?"
"He had me out of bed too much before I wanted to get up."
"An honest day's working time won't hurt you, Fred. I was here at seven
thir--"
"Arthur, I frankly, God forgive my talking to my producer this way, frankly
don't give a flying shit what time you were behind your desk. Barkin, Arthur!
You're insane."
"He seemed like a nice chap. Always smiling."
Handy leaned over the desk, talking straight into Arthur Crewes's cerebrum,
eliminating the middleman. "So does the crocodile smile, Arthur. Haskell
Barkin is a crud. He is a slithering, creeping, crawling, essentially
reptilian monster who slices and eats. He is Jack the Ripper, Arthur. He is a
vacuum cleaner. He is a loggerhead shark. He hates like we urinate--it's a
basic bodily function for him. He leaves a wet trail when he walks. Small
children run shrieking from him, Arthur. He's a killer in a suntan. Women who
chew nails, who destroy men for giggles, women like that are afraid of him,
Arthur. If you were a broad and he French-kissed you, Arthur, you'd have to go
get a tetanus shot. He uses human bones to bake his bread. He's declared war
on every woman who ever carried a crotch. This man is death, Arthur. And
that's what you wanted to turn loose on Valerie Lone, God save her soul. He's
Paris green, he's sump water, he's axle grease, Arthur! He's--"
Arthur Crewes spoke softly, looking battered by Handy's diatribe. "You made
your point, Fred. I
stand corrected."
Handy slumped down into the chair beside the desk.
To himself: "Jeezus, Huck Barkin, Jeezus ..."
And when he had run down completely, he looked up. Crewes seemed poised in
time and space. His idea had not worked out. "Well, whom would you suggest?"
Handy spread his hands.
"I don't know. But not Barkin, or anyone like him. No Strip killers, Arthur.
That would be lamb to slaughter time."
Crewes: "But she needs someone."
Handy: "What's your special interest, Arthur?"
Crewes: "Why say that?"
Handy: "Arthur ... c'mon. I can tell. There's a thing you've got going where
she's concerned."
Crewes turned in his chair. Staring out the window at the lot, a series of
flat-trucks moving scenery back to the storage bins. "You only work for me,
Fred."
Handy considered, then decided what the hell. "If I worked for Adolph
Eichmann, Arthur, I'd still ask where all them Jews was going."
Crewes turned back, looked levelly at his publicist. "I keep thinking you're
nothing more than a
file:///F|/rah/Harlan%20Ellison/Ellison,%20Harlan%20-%20Love%20Ain't%20Nothing
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file:///F|/rah/Harlan%20Ellison/Ellison,%20Harlan%20-%20Love%20Ain't%20Nothing
.txt flack-man. I'm wrong, aren't I?"
Handy shrugged. "I have a thought of my own from time to time."
Crewes nodded, acquiescing. "Would you just settle for my saying she once did [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]