Three More Wishes: Be Kind To Your Genie (33 page)

“It’s old and ugly,” the workman
djinni
said.

“This is the first time I’ve seen your lamp since the day you were bound,” Ashnadim said to Fatima. “We miss you.”

Instead of replying to that, Fatima looked intently at Ashnadim and said, “Marvin Harper is a friend of the Green Tribe, agreed?”

“Agreed,” Ashnadim said. His stare back at Fatima was just as intense.

Fatima nodded, as if something had been settled between them.

“
Ahem
,” I said. “Would someone please tell me, Why the sad faces?”

Fatima said, “Master, I was always planning on presenting the rug to you. But ... not this soon.”

Finally, I realized what everyone else was dancing around. “If Paula Sarin becomes your master, you won’t be allowed to gift me with a rug then.”

“Yes, Master. Exactly,” Fatima said. She looked miserable.

“Where is Paula Sarin? Right now?” I demanded.

“I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to tell you now. King Solomon’s rule.”

Fuck, I’m flying blind now?

I asked Fatima, “But you could answer that question a few days ago. Why not now?”

“I’m truly sorry, Master, but I may not tell you that, either. King Solomon again.” Tears were running down Fatima’s face.

I looked at Ashnadim. “Do
you
know where Paula Sarin is?”

Ashnadim sighed, and looked at the ceiling. “I know
exactly
where she is. And unlike Fatima, I can tell you. But I won’t.”

“
Why?
”

“Did you know that there hasn’t been another war of
djinn
since the day that Fatima was bound? Can you figure out why? Sigvard of the Pink Tribe hasn’t turned Paula Sarin into an ice sculpture—can you figure out why?”

“You’re all scared of God. Afraid he’ll bind more
djinn
.”

“Yes,” Ashnadim said. He looked at the ceiling again. “I want very much to tell you where Paula Sarin is. But I won’t say a word.”

****

Wednesday, 10:27 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Paula turned on her prepaid cel phone and punched in the number for Sheila’s own prepaid cel.

Sheila’s first words were “Did you find it?”

Paula swore. “No. I went around you-know-where twice, looked everywhere, and looked in everything. It isn’t here.”

“Sorry,” Sheila said.

“So much for the easy and safe plan. Now we have to go with the other plan. Be ready after midnight—sometime between two and four.”

“I’ll be ready when you call.”

“Goodnight then,” Paula said. Barely had she pressed the END button when the cel phone rang.

“Dammit, Sheila!” Paula snapped. “Don’t call me here. You’re smarter than that.”

But an unfamiliar woman’s voice said, “Aw, Paula, are you worried about someone in the mansion hearing your ringtone? Sorry about that.”

“Who the hell are you? And how did—”

“How did I get your number? I’m a bound
djinni
. Which also answers your first question, since Jerngert is dead now.”

Paula wanted to scream in fear. But she’d gotten to be a famous senator partly through acting unbothered by her enemies’ jabs. So now she worked at keeping her voice calm. “Nice to meet you, Fatima. Not the way I’d planned on, though.”

“That attic was hot today, ‘you bet,’ ” Fatima said. “And all that time, effort, and sweat for nothing—no Vessel in the attic.”

Paula decided to brazen it out. “What do you want, Fatima?”

“Well, murderess, you’re in luck. The rules forbid me to tell Marvin that you’re in his house, and I’m forbidden to stop you from trying anything.”

“Oh goody, you called to give me good news. Thanks, Fatima,” Paula said sarcastically. “I’ll enjoy owning you.”

“You don’t own me yet,” Fatima said. “Why did I call you? To tell you: I hope I see you die. Marvin has the biggest muscles of any man alive.”

“And I have bullets, and Marvin has defenseless girlfriends living here. Talk to you later, Fatima.”

JUST BARELY THURSDAY (PART ONE)
Thursday, 2:17 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time

It’s time
, Paula decided.

Paula Sarin punched a number into her prepaid cel. The phone was answered on the second ring.

“You awake? You ready?” Paula asked.

“I am, ‘Tina,’ ” Sheila replied.

“Kill it.”

Two seconds later, Paula was told, “It’s down now.” Paula ended the call.

Paula put her purse (with pistol inside) on her left shoulder, picked up her satchel, and headed across the attic for the stairs.

Just before Paula got to the attic stairs, she felt her foot sink down, as if she’d stepped onto a see-saw. Thrown off-balance, Paula grabbed the stairs’ handrail, and stepped off the treacherous board. An instant later, Paula heard
SLAP!

Shit! Wake the whole house, why don’t we?

Without thinking, Paula stepped onto the top step.
CLUMP!

Paula quickly changed her plans. As much as she wanted to rush down the attic stairs and into Marvin’s bedroom,
not
waking-up anyone came first. Which meant: Move s-l-o-w-l-y. (Then if someone heard her in the attic, they’d figure that a possum made the noise.)

Paula waited thirty seconds. Then she stepped down again, going only as far as the next step.
CLUMP.

Paula counted to thirty before taking another loud step. Again she counted to thirty, then again she stepped down only once. It took her ten minutes to work her way down the stairs.

****

Thursday, 2:17 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Virgilia was yawning as she climbed the stairs inside the mansion. She’d just come home from a prosperous night of stripping. Brenda and Christi Ellen had already given notice at Babes Aplenty, and Sherry was on the fence about quitting Nimfo Club, but Virgilia
loved
her job!

Not to mention, all the cash it brings in
, Virgilia thought.

Ordinarily, when Virgilia stepped up to the second-floor hallway, she would turn right, toward her and Sherry’s room. But somehow the hallway floor had received a new rug since Virgilia had left for work.
It looks Middle Eastern
, she thought.
Duh, how did Marvin get it?

The rug was like a large-sized oriental rug, somewhere between five and six feet across. The near side and the far side each had a tan-and-black border, and black-thread and tan-thread tassels. Framed by the tan/black borders were a lot of green designs, with an overall asparagus-green color. But whereas a deluxe oriental rug was about eight feet long or so, this rug extended on and on, both right and left, to cover the length of the hallway.

Virgilia was still standing on the top step of the stairs. As she was admiring the many different designs in the ornate rug, she heard a loud
SLAP!
sound. This was followed a few seconds later by a different sound:
Clump!

Virgilia’s memory twitched. That pair of sounds was familiar, and yet it wasn’t.

The sounds seemed to be coming from in front of her. Virgilia’s eyes searched the second-floor lounge, but didn’t see anyone talking or reading in the lounge. Virgilia didn’t give the attic door, which was to the right of the second-floor lounge, anything more than a glance.

Maybe one of the other harem girls fell asleep with her TV on.
Virgilia walked to Marvin’s door (which was closed, of course), then about-faced and walked to the other end of the hallway. Virgilia heard no TV.

But Virgilia
did
hear another
Clump.

“Weird,” Virgilia said.

Virgilia walked into the bathroom that her (and Sherry’s) bedroom shared with Christi Ellen’s bedroom. Virgilia cleaned off her makeup and brushed her teeth, all the while trying to place those sounds she’d heard. She was having no luck.

Virgilia climbed in bed. In minutes she was asleep, despite her puzzling over the
Slap-Clump
puzzle.

****

Paula had worked her way down the attic stairs, and now was just outside the attic door. She stopped to listen.

Paula heard no excited footsteps, and she heard no talking. So far, so good.

As quietly as she could, she moved from the attic door to the door to Marvin’s bedroom. Even if Elvira hadn’t pointed Marvin’s door out, Paula would have known that this was his door because of the alarm keypad nearby.

(The keypad currently showed a green light—“Alarm off.”)

Paula was jumpy. This hallway was about half the length of a football field, with plenty of doors for people to step out of, and there was no place for Paula to hide if someone looked around. Until and unless Paula got on the other side of Marvin’s door, she could be caught in the act—an instant disaster.

Paula was kneeling down, searching (slowly and quietly) for a picklock in the satchel, when the door on her right opened up. Paula almost screamed.

Fatima stood in the open doorway, glaring at Paula.

Fatima whispered, “If it were up to me, I’d blast you into ash here and now. To avenge Jerngert.”

Paula smirked. “But it
isn’t
up to you,” she whispered back. “Be nice to me, or I might kill you too.”

Fatima glared Death at Paula. But the green-eyed genie spoke nothing else, and didn’t interfere with Paula’s lock-picking. Two minutes later, Paula had Marvin’s door open.

Once inside Marvin’s bedroom, Paula decided to leave the door open a half-inch, to be sure that the night-vision goggles got enough light to work well. Never having worn night-vision goggles before, Paula hoped that this was enough.

Once inside Marvin’s bedroom, crawling on her belly like an Army soldier, it took Paula only a minute to find a box with “HARPER W G” painted on its top. And the box had a padlock! And Marvin was snoring! And no little slut was in bed with him!

Oh joy, oh joy
, Paula thought.

Paula quietly (meaning slowly) opened up the satchel, then took out the bolt-cutters.

To fit into the satchel, the bolt-cutters had to be small—not quite as long as Paula’s forearm and hand. Since the bolt-cutters were small, they couldn’t “bite” the padlock’s U-shaped bolt well. Paula had to settle for nibbling at the bolt. This required several rounds of “nibbling.”

Paula was about ten seconds away from that last, glorious “nibble” when a crazy woman burst into the room. She was yelling for Marvin to wake up.

****

Virgilia was having a dream—

Virgilia is watching as a black-masked, flashlight-carrying burglar is walking around in the attic. He looks into every box. Then he heads for the stairs. Just before he gets to the attic stairs, he steps on the loose board. SLAP! Then the black-masked man starts down the stairs.

And that’s all the burglar does: He STARTS down the stairs. He steps onto the top step (CLUMP!) and then just stands there. Still on the step, he turns around and looks at Virgilia, with a finger to his lips. After fifteen seconds, the burglar steps onto the next lower step; Virgilia hears CLUMP. Again, the burglar shushes Virgilia.

Virgilia woke up with the thought clanging in her head,
Someone’s sneaking around in the attic!

Virgilia jumped out of bed, took time only to pull on a bathrobe, then sprinted from her bedroom to Marvin’s bedroom door—

Which was open slightly.

Virgilia burst into the bedroom. She saw Marvin asleep on the bed (fully clothed???); Marvin was thus unaware of the woman who was attacking the footlocker’s padlock.

Virgilia clicked on the bedroom light. “MARVIN, WAKE UP! SOMEONE’S TRYING TO STEAL YOU-KNOW-WHAT!”

****

Paula didn’t know who the woman was, why she was here, or how much she knew. But Paula
did
know that the time for nibbles was over.

Paula put the deep V of the bolt-cutters around the uncut part of the bolt, grabbed each arm’s black-plastic handle, and pushed her hands together.

Or tried to.

Muscles that she didn’t even know she had, were burning with the effort. Then all resistance ended—Paula had cut through the padlock bolt!

Paula didn’t even have time to smile before she was knocked onto her back. Her night-vision goggles went flying.

Struggling to grab Paula’s wrists was the crazy blonde. “Bitch, you’re
not
getting his lamp!” the blonde said.

Paula’s attacker was a long-haired, puffy-lipped blonde in a bathrobe. That blonde was astride Paula, trying to grab her wrists; Blondie already had captured one of them.

“Damn, Virgilia, you already know about the lamp?” Marvin asked from the bed.

“Explain later?” Virgilia replied.

By now, Paula had noted that Virgilia’s chest bulged with ridiculous boobs. Paula’s free hand rubbed against the bathrobe, feeling for the opening, then it shot inside. Paula grabbed an oversized nipple and
twisted
.

“
Bitch!
” Virgilia said. Paula moved her hand to Virgilia’s shoulder, pushing up and sideways. Paula rolled to the right just after she shoved Virgilia to the left, with Paula’s captive hand breaking free of the blonde’s grip.

Paula grabbed the cut-through padlock and threw it away. She grabbed the footlocker lid and yanked it up; the lid banged against the bedroom wall—

“Oh no you
don’t
!” Virgilia said. Arms wrapped around Paula’s chest from behind, as muscular legs appeared on either side of Paula’s hips. Virgilia’s arms were pulling, and Virgilia’s feet were pushing, Paula away from the footlocker.

Paula bent her forearms ninety degrees, spun her shoulders around, and punched backward to either side of her head. Paula’s left fist hit only air, but her right fist hit something solid.

“Fuck!” Virgilia said. “Bitch almost got my eye. Marvin, why isn’t Fatima joining the party?”

Paula, meanwhile, had used Virgilia’s distraction to lean forward and break free of the blonde’s grip.

Marvin said, “She isn’t allowed. It’s a rule—”

Paula rolled onto her knees. Now she was able to look down into the footlocker and see a tarnished metal thing, about the size of a duck. Paul’s left hand dove down into the box, she wrapped her fingers around the lamp’s handgrip—

“—so we need to solve this ourselves,” Marvin said. A thick arm slid around Paula’s waist, she was lifted off the ground, and then a big man’s hand captured Paula’s left wrist.

As Marvin’s thumb pressed into the soft underside of Paula’s wrist, he said, “Let go, Paula. Virgilia, grab her other hand.”

Virgilia quickly did as ordered. Meanwhile, the pain that Marvin’s thumb was causing was awful; Paula screamed.

Paula’s hands were captured, and she was being held off the ground, but her legs were free. Paula’s right leg zoomed forward, then around; Paula’s heel whammed Virgilia’s shin.

“
Shit!
” Virgilia said. “You slut, cease that!”

Meanwhile, Paula managed to pull her right hand free by a few inches. Virgilia tightened her grip again, but too late. Slowly Paula’s fist and arm were pulling free of Virgilia’s grip.

Virgilia said, “Marvin, she—her hand, it’s—”

My hand is free!

****

Thursday, 2:47 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Virgilia tried to hold on. But that worthless bitch Paula Sarin had balled her hand into a fist, and Virgilia didn’t have a good grip.

Then Paula pulled her hand free.

Up till now, Paula had fought by attacking her attacker. But now, she didn’t try to step on Marvin’s instep, or punch his balls, or poke out his eyes, or pull his left hand off of hers. Paula didn’t bother with Marvin at all.

Instead, Paula’s right hand zoomed sideways, to sideswipe the lamp.

FOOM
. Virgilia saw Fatima appear in a flash of green. Fatima was wearing green Middle Eastern clothing, with green ribbons tying up her long black hair into a waterfall ponytail.

“He’s hurting me!” Paula said.

Green light flashed from Fatima’s hands, and Marvin flew five feet through the air, to land on his back atop the bed.

Marvin’s martial-arts knowledge kicked in: In less than a second he was on the floor again, standing on the balls of his feet. But instead of attacking Paula again, Marvin said, “Fatima?”

Fatima’s face was sad. “You may not harm my master, Marvin. I can’t allow that.”

“Sweet,” Paula said. “This is so sweet, you bet!”

Then Paula’s right hand reached into her purse (which now was lying on the floor). Paula’s hand came out of the purse holding a pistol.

Paula Sarin was holding the genie lamp in her left hand, and a pistol in her right hand, and she’d tamed Fatima. Life didn’t look good for either Virgilia or Marvin.