Exploits (17 page)

Just about the time I hove into view a bunch of her servants ran out to greet me, screaming and cheering wildly, and took the skins from me, and then all the guests started yelling “Hip hip hooray!” and Lady Edith ran up and planted a great big kiss on me, and Rupert looked like if someone had given him a shovel he'd have dug a hole and crawled right into it.

About an hour later we all sat down for dinner, and I recounted the story about how I'd wiped out all the tigers in the neighborhood, adding a number of properly heroic embellishments, and Lady Edith couldn't take her eyes off me, and everyone kept asking me to tell it over and over again, and Rupert just sat and looked like something he'd et had disagreed kind of violently with him.

We adjourned to the drawing room, where I gave ’em a few last thrilling details of the hunt, and then they started heading off to their bedrooms, and Lady Edith gave me another kiss and shook Rupert's hand goodnight, and finally I didn't have no one left to tell my story to, so I went up to my room.

I hadn't been there more than a minute or two when Rupert came in and closed the door behind him.

“All right, Doctor Jones,” he said. “I don't know how you did it, but you've managed to turn her head. Temporarily.”

“Well, it's mighty decent of you to acknowledge that, Brother Rupert,” I said.

“I didn't come here to flatter you,” said Rupert. “I came here to talk business. What will it take to buy you off?”

“What makes you think I want to be bought off?” I asked.

“Why spend the rest of your life in a loveless marriage when I can make you independently wealthy?” he said.

“Ain't that what
you
plan to do?” I replied.

“That's beside the point,” said Rupert. “Name your price.”

“Okay,” I said, after mulling on it for a minute or two. “I want the Flame of Bharatpur.”

He looked at me kind of funny-like. “That's
it
?” he asked.

“Well, not quite,” I said. “I hate farewell scenes with love-crazed women, so I'm going to leave tonight while everyone's asleep, and I want you to give her a note from me saying that I was called away because my wife is having a baby, which should help ease her sorrow. I'll take the Flame of Bharatpur with me on the way out.”

“That's impossible,” he said. “She has guards posted everywhere. There's no way you can take the Flame tonight without being caught out.”

“Well,” I said, “then I guess I'll just have to stick around and marry her.”

“No, wait,” said Rupert, lowering his head in thought for a minute. Finally he looked up. “I'll tell you what. Leave in the middle of the night like you planned, and go to Geoffrey Bainbridge's house. I'll remove the Flame of Bharatpur tomorrow when security isn't so tight, and have it delivered there before dark.”

“I trust in human nature as much as any man,” I said, “but I'd rest a mite easier if you'd write me a letter saying that you gave me the Flame of Bharatpur in exchange for ending my courtship of Lady Edith. Just in case something happens to the Flame in the meantime.”

Well, he hemmed and he hawed, but finally he sat down and wrote the letter, and I jotted down a note to Lady Edith, and a few hours later I was walking down the road to the hospital, which I reached just after daylight. They didn't want to let Bainbridge out, but when I told him that the Flame of Bharatpur was being delivered to his house that day nothing they could say could make him stay there, and finally his chauffeur drove up and packed us into the car.

“I can't believe you got the Flame of Bharatpur in just one day!” said Bainbridge as we drove down the road toward his house.

“Well, it's our little secret,” I said, after I'd told him the deal I'd made with Rupert Cornwall. “Lady Edith don't know nothing about it yet.”

“I fully understand,” he replied. “What I plan to do is keep the Flame against the day when she regains her senses and sends the rascal packing.”

“That's all well and good for you,” I said, “but what about me? After all, I'm the one who got Rupert to part with it.”

“You will not go unrewarded, Doctor Jones.”

“Good,” I said. “Because I figure half of the Flame of Bharatpur belongs to me, and that probably translates into three or four million pounds on the open market.”

He turned and stared at me. “Are you crazy?” he said.

“Okay,” I said agreeably. “I forgot there's a depression on. I'll settle for a million.”

We reached Bainbridge's house, and suddenly the car screeched to a halt just before it ran into a pig that was munching some flowers at the edge of the driveway.

“Looks like Rupert ain't been here yet,” I said, but I suddenly found I was talking to an empty seat, because Geoffrey Bainbridge had gotten out of the car and was kneeling, bandages and all, next to the pig, running his hand lovingly over its head.

“Nice Sylvester,” he was crooning. “Sweet Sylvester.”

“You know,” I said, climbing out of the car, “Lady Edith's got a pig called Sylvester that looks just like this one. Ain't that a striking coincidence?”

“This is him,” said Bainbridge.

“Yeah? What's he doing here?”

“It means that Rupert Cornwall kept his word.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.

“Sylvester,” he said. “Champion The Flame of Bharatpur. He's won prizes in five different countries. Isn't he gorgeous?”

“The Flame of Bharatpur is a
pig
?”

“He's not merely a pig,” said Bainbridge. “He is the greatest swine I have ever seen!”

Well, right at that moment I had my own opinions about the greatest swine I had ever seen, and Rupert Cornwall and Geoffrey Bainbridge were running neck-and-neck for the award. I couldn't go back and rekindle my romance with Lady Edith, because by now she'd read my note, and I didn't see Sylvester bringing no multi-million dollar price on the black market even if I could convince Bainbridge to part with him, and I'd spent every penny I had on tiger skins, so I decided then and there that I would take Bainbridge's reward and go to some country where folks wasn't so all-fired deceitful and an honest man of God could build a tabernacle and finally get around to doing some serious preaching.

9. The Scorpion Lady

I'd pretty much had my fill of India, and I figured that I'd use Bainbridge's reward to get as far away from it as I could. It turned out that his notion of “generous” and mine differed considerably, and when the dust had cleared I found I only had enough money to fly to Siam.

I landed in Bangkok, found out that most of the white folks stayed at the Oriental Hotel, checked into a room there, and then set out to find some sinners that were more in need of redemption than most.

This led me to the Lumpini Stadium, where they were holding their nightly kick-boxing tournament, and when I heard that one of the combatants was named Moses I figured it was a signal from my Silent Partner and I put all my remaining money on him with one of the local bookmakers, and sure enough Moses kicked the bejabbers out of his opponent, and suddenly I had about six hundred dollars in my pocket, and I figured as long as God was looking over my shoulder there was no reason why I shouldn't let my money keep working for me.

A couple of discreet inquiries led me to the Scorpion Club a few blocks away. It had an exotic-looking doorway, and inside there was a long bar, a bunch of itinerant belly-dancers, and a few gaming tables, and before trying my luck I decided to slake my thirst on something with just enough alcohol to kill any germs I might have picked up during the day.

“Good evening, Father,” said a voice at my left, and I turned to see that a nattily-dressed Englishman had sat down next to me.

“It's Reverend,” I said. “The Reverend Lucifer Jones, at your service.”

“Reginald McCorkle,” he said, extending his hand. “It's very rare that one meets a man of the cloth in these surroundings.”

“Trolling for sinners is a lot like trolling for fish,” I explained. “You got to go where they congregate.”

“Makes sense, at that,” he agreed. “Will you allow me to buy you a drink?”

“I suppose I could hold my natural generosity in check long enough to accept your kind offer,” I allowed. “You work around here, Brother McCorkle?”

He nodded. “And yourself?”

“I just stepped off the plane this afternoon,” I said.

“You're staying at the Oriental, I presume?”

“Yeah,” I said. “It's a nice enough temporary residence, until I decide where to build my tabernacle.”

“It's about three miles away from here,” he noted. “How did you happen to find this place?”

“It was highly recommended as a prime source of lost souls,” I answered.

I was about to tell him about the kick-boxing, but just then the door opened and the most beautiful lady I ever did see walked in. She was Eurasian, and dressed in a slinky black gown, and she was wearing a necklace made of enormous pink pearls, and she had a huge jeweled scorpion pinned to her dress right between her lungs, and she had so many rings on her fingers that I figured it must have kept a diamond mine working all year around just supplying the stones for them. She glanced at me and Reginald McCorkle for just a second, and then walked over to a staircase and up to the second floor.

“Close your mouth, Reverend Jones,” said McCorkle. “You never know what might fly into it in a place like this.”

“I don't want to cut short an enjoyable conversation, Brother Reginald,” I said, “but I think I've just been smitten by Cupid's capricious arrow.”

“She does have that effect on people,” said McCorkle.

“You know her?” I asked.

“I think just about everyone in Siam knows her, or at least knows
of
her,” he replied.

“What's her name?”

“She has more names than you can shake a stick at,” said McCorkle. “In this part of the world she's known as the Scorpion Lady.”

“She gets around a lot, does she?” I asked.

“Quite a lot.”

“Good,” I said. “We can compare travel notes once we get to know each other.”

“You don't want to get to know her, Reverend Jones,” continued McCorkle. “She's the most dangerous woman in all of Southeast Asia.”

“A pretty little lady like that?” I said disbelievingly.

He nodded. “She runs the biggest smuggling operation in Siam, and is probably responsible for half the murders in Bangkok. She's so powerful that even the notorious Doctor Aristotle Ho give her territory a wide berth.”

“So what you're saying is that she's probably
not
responsible for half the murders in Bangkok,” I said, trying to look on the bright side.

“She owns this club,” added McCorkle. “It's her headquarters whenever she's in the country.”

“How do
you
know all this, Brother Reginald?” I asked him.

“It's common knowledge. Ask anyone—or read a newspaper.”

“Well, I thank you for all this advice,” I said, “and for the drink as well, but my heart's been overcome by the siren song of true love.”

“I warn you, Reverend,” he said. “She's more than just a pretty face.”

“I know,” I said. “She's got one of the finest sets of lungs it's ever been my rare privilege to encounter.”

I figured any further conversation would just depress me, so I took my leave of him then and headed over to the stairway, and when no one tried to stop me, I climbed up to the second floor. There was a door opposite the stairs with a light coming out from under it, so I walked up to it and knocked.

“Enter,” said the most melodious voice I ever heard, and I pushed the door open.

She was sitting in front of a mirror, kind of admiring herself, which is just what I'd have done if I was her, and suddenly she spotted me in the mirror and turned to face me. “Who are you?” she demanded.

“I'm the Honorable Right Reverend Doctor Lucifer Jones, Miss Scorpion Lady, ma'am, and I've come to tell you that you are the most beautiful sight to grace my eyes since I landed on this continent some four years ago, and also to inquire delicately as to your current marital status.”

She just stared at me for a minute without saying a word. Then she smiled. “How flattering, Doctor Jones.”

“Ma'am, you got a voice like unto a symphony,” I said. “Every word is a thing of undying beauty.”

“Won't you have a seat, Doctor Jones?” said the Scorpion Lady.

“Thank you, ma'am, I sure will,” I said, plopping myself down on a dainty little chair that had all kinds of mother-of-pearl designs inset in it. “And you can call me Lucifer.”

“Thank you, Lucifer,” she said. “And you may call me the Scorpion Lady.”

“Just as a nonsequitur, ma'am, ain't it scorpions that eat their husbands at a most indelicate point in their connubial relationship?”

“No, those are black widow spiders, Lucifer,” she replied. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason in particular, ma'am,” I said. “I was just kind of curious why such a gorgeous little lady, with a face like an angel and a tiny waistline and all other kinds of attributes would call herself the Scorpion Lady while some real high-class names like Fifi and Fatima are going begging.”

“I have a passion for scorpions,” she replied. “As you can see, most of my jewelry is shaped into facsimiles of them.”

“And mighty fine jewelry it is, ma'am,” I said, “though it pales into insignificance compared to your own beauty.”

“I do believe you are trying to make me blush, Lucifer,” she said with a smile.

“I ain't never seen an Oriental lady blush before,” I answered. “It might be a pretty interesting and educational experience.”

“Some other time,” she said.

“Your wish is my command,” I said. “You just name that other time and I'll be here with bells on.”

“Why in the world would you want to wear bells?” she asked.

“That's just a figure of speech, ma'am,” I explained. “Actually, what I'm trying to say is that you've won me over heart and soul.”

“What if I don't
want
you, heart and soul?” she asked.

“That ain't my problem, ma'am,” I said. “I had enough trouble just finding you and falling in love. I don't hardly see that making
you
fall in love too can rightly be considered my responsibility.”