Gregory, Lisa (38 page)

The
next morning the terrible burning was gone, though her legs and arms still
ached. She also felt as if she were dying of hunger and thirst. So when a maid
brought in a bowl of the vile porridge, she gulped it down eagerly and was even
grateful for the weak tea that accompanied it. After that she was left alone
all day, free to torment her mind with the impossibility of her situation and
the awful things that were no doubt planned for her this evening. She received
no more food until another bowl of porridge late that afternoon.

About
an hour later, she began to feel very peculiar— listless, sleepy, yet she could
not sleep. Her room began to slant oddly and for the first time she realized
that the floor sloped downward to the door. How very odd. And how odd that the
ceiling was rising, moving away from her. It made her feel dizzy. Soon Pearl
and a maid came in; their faces strangely distorted.

"How
do we feel?" Pearl asked brightly, and patted her cheek.

"You're
all hazy," Katherine said.

Pearl
smiled and she and the maid pulled Katherine to her feet. She swayed slightly
and stared at Pearl; she seemed so far away, but when Pearl reached out, she
could touch her—her arms were fantastically long.

"I'm
glad to see you becoming agreeable," Pearl said pleasantly. "Now
we'll just get you all prettied up here."

The
maid pinned a brief piece of gold material around Katherine's hips, then a
longer diaphanous gold scarf. Another scarf was wrapped around her torso,
barely covering the tops of her breasts and leaving her shoulders bare. Then a
final veil was draped over her hair and down across her shoulders.

Pearl
clapped her hands in delight "Now, ain't that just beautiful? You're going
to be a great success. Oh, the toe ring, Bessie, that will be just the right
touch."

The
maid knelt and slipped a ring with a great amber jewel onto her left large toe.
Katherine looked down at herself in bewilderment. Pearl reached out and took
her hand. Docilely Katherine followed her out the door and down the stairs. She
was led into the red room, now full of noise and smoke and people. Katherine
shrank back from it, but Pearl firmly led her in.

Pearl's
booming voice rang out across the noise. "I have a special treat for you
tonight, boys! Straight from a sultan's harem."

Immediately
all heads were craning to see her. Pearl said something to Paul and he picked
Katherine up and stood her on the black marble bar. Every eye in the room was
riveted on her. Across the room, Katherine could see her reflection in the
mirrors; surely that couldn't be she. Not that voluptuous creature wrapped in
golden gauze, her breasts boldly thrusting out, her tawny hair tumbling wildly
to her shoulders, her eyes huge and velvet-soft. She did look like something
from a harem. That wasn't Katherine; no, Katherine was above her, floating up
to the ceiling. She smiled to herself; how she had tricked them. They were all
looking at the girl on the bar and here was Katherine on the ceiling, escaping
them.

"Yes,
gentlemen, this beauty was purchased at great expense from the harem of the
great sultan Ibn Saud. Now, I was quite puzzled about who should get her her
first night here, seeing as how you'd all be wanting her. And then I thought;
why not give her to the highest bidder? Huh, gentlemen?"

There
was a murmur of approval. Slowly Pearl drew off the veil covering her head,
then the gauzy material that covered her breasts. The room grew hushed in
lustful anticipation. Pearl paused at the next scarf.

"No
offers, gentlemen?"

Immediately
men all over the room began to call out amounts, the numbers rising rapidly.
Pearl laughed merrily and detached the next filmy veil. The voices rose in
volume and number.

Katherine
looked out numbly at the sea of faces, flushed with desire, eyes glittering.
Dear God, why couldn't she move? Why did she feel so detached and filled with
lassitude? Why couldn't she lift her feet to run from this new humiliation? Why
couldn't she call out or even cry?

Keeping
up a running chatter, Pearl pulled off each seductive veil. The clamor rose as
they all leaned forward in anticipation, their faces lust-crazed. The figures
they shouted rose staggeringly until finally the last veil fell away and her
whole lovely ivory body was revealed. At the sight of her firm, smooth flesh,
bewitchingly golden in the soft light, their voices reached a fever pitch.

"Calm
down! Calm down," Pearl cackled. "Since you are all so fired up to
have her, we'll have to do a little compromising here. Now this little beauty
says she's willing to give you all a chance. Ain't that right, dearie? Highest
bidder first and then on down. How does that sound? She
claims
she can
handle the whole sultan's army. Let's just see what she can do, huh?"

Matthew
slumped at his desk, his head cradled on his arms. It had been so long since he
had slept. With one shaky hand, he reached out and poured himself another
whiskey and downed it. Wearily he dragged a hand across his face. Three
days—they had been frantically looking for her for three days, with no luck.
She seemed to have vanished into thin air. Dear God, what had happened to her?
Had she been seized and thrown into a ship headed for the brothels of Europe or
the West Indies? Or was she still in Liverpool, locked away in the dark bowels
of some filthy building? Either way, she would not have gone tamely. She wouldn't
submit, he knew, and he also knew they would feel no compunction about hurting
her. Or maybe—maybe she was dead.

All
through his own selfishness. Hurt or dead, it was because of him. All his
waking hours, while he searched the vice dens of Liverpool, his thoughts
haunted him; he was plagued with guilt and remorse. He remembered the unkind things
he had done to her, the way he had teased her, had forced her to submit to him,
had tried to bend her will to his. And for no reason except that he wanted her
and was angry because she didn't want him. Her spirit and independence—the very
things that had made him love her because she was so different from all the
others—he had tried to break, to conquer, even while realizing that no mastery
over her was worth having unless she accepted it willingly, lovingly. He had
been an impatient fool.

She
hated him for the way he had treated her and now, rightfully, she would blame
him for whatever horrible thing happened to her after she escaped him. He
realized that if he found her, he would still not win her. But if only he could
find her, that wouldn't matter. He would gladly give her up, return her to the
American embassy, if only he could find her safe and sound. He could accept the
awful, bleak pain of living without her, if only he could save her.

But
after three days of searching, they had found nothing. Her earrings and
engagement ring had been found at a pawnshop, but, even under the most forceful
persuasion, the clerk could not remember who had pawned them. Tenderly Matthew
touched the ring and hot tears seared his cheeks.

"Cap'n."
Peljo popped his head inside the door, his voice full of barely suppressed
excitement. "I've got somebody out here who says he has seen Miss
Katherine."

Matthew's
head shot up and he turned. "Who? Where is he?"

"On
deck, sir."

Matthew
crossed the room in two strides and ran up the steps to the deck. A man stood
there, nervously wringing his cap.

"Who
are you?" Matthew's voice rapped out.

The
man gulped, frightened by the tall, unkempt, wild-eyed man before him.
"Alfred, sir."

"All
right, Alfred, describe this young lady you saw."

"Pretty,
sir, dark blond hair, brown eyes, very tall. Talked funny, like a Yank."

"How
was she dressed?"

"Dressed?
I don't know; it had little flowers on it, I think."

"When
was this?"

"Three
or four nights ago, sir."

"What
happened?"

"Well,
me and my friend Ned was talking to her when this flashy-looking dandy comes up
and stabs Ned."

"Just
because you were standing there talking?" Matthew's voice was cold and
hard as sleet.

The
man cleared his throat and said, "Madman, I guess, sir."

"Is
it not more likely that you were accosting this young lady?"

"We
was just having a little fun, sir," Alfred whined.

Hampton's
hand shot out and he grabbed the man by his shirt, lifted him up, and shook
him. "Did you hurt her, you sniveling little—"

"No,
no, I never touched her; I swear," the man squealed. "It was Ned,
sir—honest."

Matthew
stared at him with flinty eyes and said finally, "All right. Tell me what
happened."

"Well,
this man stabbed Ned with his cane, and—"

"With
his cane?"

"Yessir.
He had a little knife in the end of it."

"I've
seen 'em like that," Peljo volunteered. "Well, that's all. He stabbed
Ned and I ran for my life."

"Leaving
her there, of course."

The
man squirmed.

"Well,
describe the man with the cane to me."

"Flashy
dresser. He had on a plaid suit—yellow and gray. And a fancy hat. And this
cane."

"Sounds
like a pimp. Is that what he looked like?"

"Yessir.
But I don't know him."

Matthew
turned to Peljo. "All right, Peljo, let's start looking for that man.
Now."

Almost
before the words were out of his mouth, he was gone, flying back to the
seamen's dives. For hours his search was fruitless. But finally, early in the
morning, a barmaid touched him on the shoulder.

"I
heard you asking about that man with the cane."

"Yes."
He looked at her eagerly. "You know him?"

"Maybe.
Why you want him?"

"I
think he's kidnapped a woman that—that I love."

The
girl looked at him shrewdly. Then she said, "Well, you better find her
quick then. That sounds like Parker; he works over at Pearl's. He gets girls
for her."

"And
where is this Pearl's?"

"I'll
show you. But you won't be able to do anything by yourself. Pearl's got Parker
and two guards; not to mention the customers."

"I
can get several men. You just show me where."

"All
right."

He
delved into his pocket and crushed some money into her hand. "Wait right
here while I get my men. I'll give you more when we get there."

The
girl shrugged and nodded. Matthew rushed out to gather Peljo and his men. When
he returned an hour or two later with his crew, armed to the teeth, the barmaid
gaped in astonishment.

"You
got an army there," she said.

"Not
quite." Hampton smiled, filled with that ice-cold calm that always came
just before battle was engaged. "Now lead on, dear girl."

She
grabbed a shawl and hurried out into the cold of predawn. The streets by this
time were quiet and littered with drunks. They followed the girl, silent and
purposeful; Hampton had had no trouble enlisting their aid in finding
Katherine. She had fed them when they were prisoners and tended them when they were
wounded; they had long ago adopted her as their own.

Suddenly
the girl stopped. "That's it. The one in the middle."

"Are
you sure?"

"Yes."

"Good
girl." He shoved more money into her hand and she scampered off.

Hampton
strode to the front door and tried it. Locked. Calmly he shot the lock and then
kicked the door open. Once inside the now-empty parlor, he picked up an ashtray
and hurled it against a mirror. The crash brought a sleepy guard stumbling out;
he stopped dead at the weapons drawn on him.

"I
want to see Pearl," Hampton said.

"Pearl!"
The guard's voice came out a whisper and he had to call again.

"Damn
it, I had just gone to bed; what's going on?" Pearl stopped short at the
head of the stairs.

"Madam,
I have come about a new addition to your staff. A tall girl with dark gold hair
and amber eyes—" he paused inquiringly.