Surreal continuing story: walking through doors and passageways

[dougie_monty]

“That he remembers how she started out, writing for supermarket tabloids while she was in college. He told her his dad—Myron Jr., the big boss—wouldn’t like such stories.”
“I’m hard put to see what a story about Ms. Terwilliger’s wings—or Ms. Berry’s—would be worth anyway,” says Armand. “the Courier-Times wouldn’t print it—and it would do nothing for the benefit in terms of publicity.”

“Heck, we may as well have Harry Rudolph write the feature article!” I snap.
The others laugh at this.

(Actually I wonder whether Ms. Adler’s prying questions are the result of an ulterior motive…)
Jeanette says, “You know who would be good to have contribute to Lorraine’s article? Jimmy Bradley [Jane’s youngest kid] and April Blonda.”

We’re surprised at this, but Louise points out that both kids have shown considerable talent at writing and both in fact have already contributed to the Courier-Times.
I know that 9-year-old Jimmy is about as shy and modest as his older brother Billy…

Fred says, “I’ll tell you what. I have a poker game with Myron [the younger one] tonight. I’ll bring the matter up to him, and see what he says.”
Jeanette’s face lights up. “You play poker, eh, Fred?” she asks. She takes a deck of playing cards from her purse and starts shuffling it in fancy ways like Charlie Ruggles used to do it.
“Oh—ah—well, we’ve rarely ever had a woman sit in on the games, but you’re more than welcome!”

Jerry, the drummer, speaks up. “Be sure you want to invite her, Fred. The last ten times we played strip poker with Jeanette she cleaned us all out and she didn’t so much as take one shoe off.” :eek:
“And I wear more than a dress and shoes whenever I get to a card table,” Jeanette adds.

The interview with Lorna seems to have gone all right. She comes into the kitchen and calls Alice over to a corner. They chat and snicker a little. Then Lorna sends Jane in as Ms. Adler’s next interview subject. We bid Lorna goodbye; she’ll be busy now with wedding preparations.
“Lorraine had no intrusive questions for Lorna,” Alice says, as she returns to the table. “She didn’t even ask many questions about Jock, or the upcoming wedding.”

“I guess Mr. Skagg’s admonition and Loora’s tricks straightened her out,” says Fred.
I think of something else now, as Alice sits next to me and I can sense that I am blushing. :o
“Alice, remember when you and I and Samantha were on that bus, and you wore the Gibson Girl outfit?”

“Yes, I remember,” she says, with one arm around me.
“Well, you said ‘This is your world, we just live in it’ or something like that. I’ve wondered whether there’s a connection between that and the mangled Shakespeare quote.”

“‘We are the dreams…’ oh, I see what you mean,” she says. She kisses me.
“I’ll bring that point up to Parker; we want to visit Red Nicholas again anyway,” says Fred.

Now a new visitor comes in: Phil Thompson, Jane Bradley’s brother. He’s a tall, robust man with Jane’s coloring and physiognomy. He identifies himself to us; Fred has already met him.
He sits down with Alice and me, and Fred. Eloise has also joined us. Phil has Alice and me sign a document formally transferring ownership of the (unmarked) platinum ingot over to Thompson Assayers. Fred produces his notary journal and seal, and excuses himself only long enough to go type up a document. Just as Fred finishes the notarizing, by stamping the document with his seal, a disembodied voice—which apparently only Alice, Fred, Eloise, and I can hear—says, “Sale of unmarked platinum ingot acknowledged…”

Phil uses a cell phone and a laptop computer to effect the transfer of funds to Alice’s bank account and mine—we each get $110,000. He also records the sale with his office, by calling his secretary.
Eloise now takes her cell phone—which, of course, she keeps in her cleavage—and calls the Pinkerton guards on the grounds, to have them get ready with the ingot for the armored truck company to pick up.

Now Jane returns from her interview. She greets her brother, and comments on the “strange questions” that Ms. Adler asked her. Fred notes this. “I guess it’s your turn now,” he tells me.
So it is. I go into the library to meet Ms. Adler and answer her questions.

[NDP]

She turns on her tape recorder and says, “I’m now talking to _____ _____. Tell me, what will you be doing in the show.”

“Just a few numbers,” I inform her. “Homer and Jethro’s version of ‘Fer the Good Times’, some classical pieces, maybe Camper Van Beethoven’s ‘Take the Skinheads Bowling’–we haven’t finalized everything yet. I suspect there’ll be changes up to time of the show itself.”

“Now you seem to be the odd man out here,” Ms. Adler continues. “Everybody else seems to have had at least some public performance experience but you are–and I hope this doesn’t sound like an insult–the real amateur of the bunch.”

“Well, there is Doris Sharp’s punk band. I think they’ll be making their public debut.”

“Actually, I was talking to them earlier and they told me that have a few performances at junior high dances and coffeehouses already under they’re belt.”

“Really? Doris said that?”

“Not really Doris Sharp or anybody else in the group. It was their manager. Some real young-looking guy named Jay Orange. He practically did the talking for the whole group and wouldn’t let them get in more than a couple words.”

I chuckle at the mention of this.

“You know Jay Orange?” Ms. Adler asks.

“Um … yes, I do,” I say with a broad smile, “although not as well as some of the other performers in the show. Let’s just say he’s a rather ambitious type with a lot of big ideas.”

“Well, anyway, I was wondering if you’ve had any experience performing in public prior to this gig at the Morpheus,” she says getting back to her original topic.

“A little,” I admit. “A few sporadic gigs here and there. It’s not really my line of work though.”

“And what is?”

“I’m a law student,” I answer while remembering to myself not to say anything that might reveal my involvement with the DXM League. “I’m actually doing this to help out with a cause and work with Alice and her friends.”

“You two seem really close,” Ms. Adler states. “How long have you known each other?”

“About nine months,” I answer, “but it seems a lot shorter.”

“I’m not gay or anything but she’s an interesting looking girl,” she comments. “There’s kind of an ethereal appearance to her.”

“What do you mean by that?” I inquire.

“She looks like she stepped out a fairy tale,” Ms. Adler answers. “You almost expect to see her fluttering around the room with gossamer wings on her back. Don’t you think so?”

“Well, uh … having stopped reading fairy tales by the time I was eight, I … uh … never gave it much thought,” I stammer as I feel a mass of discomfort form in my stomach.

“I get the same type of vibe from Gwen Berry too,” she pointedly adds.

“That might … uh … be what you think,” I sputter with a voice that grows more inaudible. Ms. Adler sees my increasing restlessness and knows she’s on to something. I need to get out this situation with as little fuss as possible. So, I…

[dougie_monty]

…send a telepathic message—to Dr. Clouse.
*Lorraine Adler is prodding me to say something about wings—Alice’s, Gwen’s, and my own. Can you come to the library? It’d help if you can use medical treatment as a pretext…

I read you, _______,* comes Laura’s answer. I’ll be right there.
Until Laura arrives, I need to fend off Ms. Adler’s questions. So, with my ESP tracking Laura, I excuse myself and go to use the nearest bathroom.

I return and, sure enough, Laura appears in the library doorway. She tells Lorraine, “Excuse us, but I have some treatment for _______. You’ll have to finish his interview later.”
“Oh, all right,” says Ms. Adler. She calls her next subject into the library: Lloyd Werdin, Andy Sharp’s father-in-law and the other grandfather of little Jack Sharp II. After that I know Lorraine will have her interview with Bob Blonda, Jack Sharp, Pete Oranjeboom, Stan Brown and Joe Bradley—the penguin act.

“Thanks, Laura, that was close.” I start to walk back to the kitchen.
“Not so fast,” says the doctor. “You’re overdue for a checkup. Let’s go to the dressing room!”

I shrug and follow Dr. Clouse to Eloise’s downstairs dressing room, where Laura has been doing doctor stuff. She gives me a regular examination.
“You need more exercise,” she says. “I happen to know you have a bicycle here at the Sharps’ place.”

“Oh, all right,” I say. I know the Sharps’ grounds are so extensive I can ride for miles on bike trails.
“You know Lorraine acts like she’s on to Alice and Gwen and me about our wings…”

“Well, don’t worry about it too much, ______,” answers Laura. “Just be discreet, as you always are. And I happen to know Lorraine is supposed to interview Hermione and Winifred, and finally Fred Moreland himself, for that matter.”
“I never thought of that!” I say, chortling.

Now we return to the kitchen, and join Alice and Jeanette, and Armand. Alice and I hug and kiss, and sit together as we sip iced tea.
“I used ESP on you during that interview,” Alice tells me. “I agree: That was close!”

Dr. Clouse tells Alice about her intervention and the results. She and Alice snicker at me a little.
Before I can react, I hear chains. Leo is here.

“I’m going to the Morpheus to meet some new ghosts who have just joined the League—Ulrica Werdin, Luigi Luglio, and a couple named Berry. I think they are deceased relatives of Joanie Werdin, Anna Luglio, and Gwen.”
Alice reacts, especially to the mention of the Berrys. “Leo, please be careful about letting the living know about those ghosts!”

Leo promises he will play it safe and discreet.
Meanwhile, Eloise comes into the kitchen, with Loora and her son Jan.

I approach them and say, “I bet you had something to do with Lorraine Adler’s mention of Doris’ Punk Band!”
The three all smirk. “That’s right,” says Loora. “Jan isn’t playing agent this time—he is doing just fine with Edwards & Pell. But Eloise and I allowed him to give our inquisitive reporter a false lead.”
Now Fred returns. Eloise says, “I understand Lorraine will be interviewing you soon, Fred.”

“She will, Missus Sharp,” says Fred. “I can deal with her tricky questions. But we have another matter to deal with. Lester Paulsen called Professor Fields, and me as well. Paulsen wants to meet, with Mr. Bartholomew, and ______ and Alice, in front of the police station, with the suspects, including Dennis Walsh. So when we go back to the Morpheus, we’ll talk to the lawyers first.”

Lloyd Werdin joins us in the kitchen, none the worse for his interview with Ms. Adler. He has some iced tea while the five married guys, Oranjeboom, Sharp, Blonda, Bradley, and Brown go into the library for their interview.
I sit with the group at the table, Alice next to me. “You know who I’d like to see as her next interviewees? Daniel, George Sharp, Jerry Britton, and Phoebe Atwood. With Buster present. There’d be no straight man for miles!”

Alice and I hear footsteps. She smirks and says, “Well, guess what…”

[NDP]

Salbert’s here!"

I turn around and see a surprisingly dapper looking Salbert. He’s wearing a tux and has his hair slicked back on his head.

“We haven’t seen you in awhile,” I tell him. “What’ve you been up to?”

“A lot,” he answers. “Much of it covert.”

“So I suppose there’s not really much you talk to us about,” states Alice.

“On the contrary,” Salbert says. “In fact, I think you’ll be greatly interested in what I have to say.”

“Then spill,” I tell him.

"Well, first off, it seems…

[dougie_monty]

“One, Letitia Lemoyne Frazier won’t be bothering you for a while. She contracted wool-sorter’s disease and is laid up at Lodi General, where Dr. Ferruccio Luglio is attending to her.
“Two, we found out where those envelopes you were getting came from, ______. It wasn’t Hickerson’s gift shop. One of Lemoyne’s old toadies had connections in an aluminum-foil factory and supplied Dennis Walsh with the material for the envelopes.

“Three, Henry Sikes-Potter’s widow, in Wales, has died. She had no children by him, and a church official in Rhondda will contact me about who will receive the $500-odd million in Sikes-Potter’s hidden assets.
“Four, Maya Kalp is still in custody, but she has straightened herself out. She has been conducting, and producing, a program like Scared Straight, and has already delivered a stern, almost blistering, lecture to various youth groups in the state of Montana.

“Five, I. Loomis Knattey has been tried and convicted of immigration fraud. He’ll do the minimum of five years—under Canadian law—before he’s eligible for parole. And I understand his health is not conducive to a robust life once he finally is sprung.
“Six, your cousin Kurt Todd: well, I guess your family hasn’t told you about this, but they have all turned against him. He’s likely to be out of circulation for a long time. And the FAA has permanently revoked his pilot’s license.

“Seven, and last: The San Francisco Police searched—with a warrant—the home of Lady Minerva Calley and located a log she had been keeping. They’ve already contacted Edmond Bartholomew about it, and he’ll provide a facsimile for you to go over with Fred, Professor Fields, and Hermione.”
Salbert sits down and catches his breath. Armand serves him a green apple and a small bottle of mineral water. Alice and I, sitting together, are glad to get this news from our old contact.

Salbert pauses, and says, “Well, I know about the new items on your agenda: your interview with Lester Paulsen and his clients; another contact with Red Nicholas; the wedding of Jock and Lorna; and, of course, the benefit at the Morpheus. And, oh—how did the sale of the ingots go?”
“Just fine, thanks,” says Alice. She shows Charlie Salbert the sale record Phil Thompson gave us for the platinum ingot.

He whistles and says, “Wow! You sure made a bundle on that! And, as a prospector, I know some other assayers in the San Francisco area, who can buy silver, platinum, and gems from your group.”
Now Messrs. Oranjeboom, Brown, Bradley, Sharp, and Blonda return to the kitchen, their interview over. I make a mental note to get their comments; they don’t look angry or bewildered. Their wives approach and embrace them. I blush and Alice squeezes my hand gently. Fred Moreland is Lorraine’s next interview—and also the last, unless Ms. Adler takes my bait about interviewing the group’s prize smart alecks.

Before he goes to the library to meet Ms. Adler, Fred ushers two other people into the kitchen: My Mom, Donna Niles, and my older brother Grant, who would be good as an impudent interviewee like Daniel Terwilliger or Jerry Britton. My Mom is 70 and carries a cane, mostly as a precaution. She is cordial and articulate; she’s a heavy-set woman with glasses and a white bouffant. Grant, one year older than I am, has graying beard and hair and he too wears glasses. He’s considerably thinner than I am. They have come to see the benefit at the Morpheus, which will be in a few days.

I introduce them to the group in the kitchen, Alice first of all. “_______ has told me so much about you, Alice,” Mom says.
“And _____ has told me so much about you, Ms. Niles,” says Alice.

Grant doesn’t say anything after the introductions, but I sense he is amazed that I met, and clicked with, a nice woman like Alice. Grant has been to me much the same as Daniel has been to Alice.
Betty Galloway and Eloise come into the room; I introduce Mom and Grant to them; Mom starts a conversation with them. She almost falls over when Eloise tells her what Alice and I received for the platinum ingot. I’m sure she’ll be skeptical about Red Nicholas if I tell her about him.

Now Fred returns from his interview. I introduce Mom and Grant to him, and he comments about Ms. Adler:

[NDP]

“She’s certainly an inquisitive woman isn’t she?”

“Definitely,” I say in agreement.

“She just asked me a few questions about the concert and after I said I wasn’t really doing that much she suddenly launched into some questions about the Morpheus,” Fred states. “When I tried to tell her I wasn’t involved in the renovation, she then asked some vague question about the ‘strange goings-on’ there.”

“How did you answer it?” I inquire.

"I told her…

[dougie_monty]

“…that Mister and Missus Sharp had engaged a caretaker for the theater when he bought it from Jared Smedley.” Fred assumes the butler demeanor. “I added that I knew no more details about it inasmuch as the owners did not see fit to confide in a household employee about it.”
“So you made it clear to her that she would not get any more information about the ‘caretaker’ from you?” asks Alice.

“Certainly, Miss Alice,” Fred answers, still in his stuffy butler character. “We shall see if she can get anything out of Jack or Eloise, since they now know about her unstated objectives.”
Now I turn to our visitors with Fred.

“My Mom, Donna Niles, and my brother Grant _______,” I say. “This is Fred Moreland, the Sharps’ major-domo.”
Grant snickers. “Where did you get that word?”

“I got it in a book I read in 1962,” I say with slight irritation. “I just never had occasion to use it before now.”
We go into the Sharps’ rec room, where the whole group from the Morpheus has gathered. The first ones we meet are Jack and Eloise, and their kids. I introduce Mom and Grant to the group. I also note that Messrs. Oranjeboom, Bradley, Brown, Sharp, and Blonda have been commenting to their wives about Lorraine Adler; I’ll want to talk to them in a little while.

Fred says, “Missus Sharp, Lorraine was pressing me for details about ‘strange goings-on’ in the Morpheus. I turned butler and told her nothing more than that we had hired a ‘caretaker.’ I went into no more detail about it.”
“Maybe she should bring a crowbar,” snorts Jack. “With her prying nature, that’s what she may need in order to get information out of us concerning Red Nicholas.”

My Mom and Grant sit down on a big leather couch.
“I have a special person for you to meet now,” I say.

Chains rattling slightly, Leo comes into the room, as near to a mortal human character as he can be. He approaches Alice and me, and Mom and Grant, and the Sharps.
He bows gallantly and, tongue obviously in cheek, he says in a cordial voice, “I am Leo Jacobs, a ghost. Boo.”

My Mom and Grant start slightly at the sight of Leo, but they remain seated. I introduce them to him.
Grant comments, “Maybe you are the ‘caretaker’ they told that reporter about.”

“Well, in a sense, I am,” Leo answers. Of course, there is quite a bit about the Morpheus and its inhabitants I have not told Mom or Grant.
Now I tell them about Jack and Eloise’s family. The eight boys are dressed the same, as are the seven girls.

“Send in the Clones,” snickers Grant. The Sharps all laugh.
Now The Cigar Band approaches. Jerry Britton puffs on his favorite brand of Cuban cigars; Phil and Johnny smoke White Owls; and Jeanette lights up a panatela. They meet Mom and Grant.

Mom is slightly startled by the appearance of Jeanette, who wears a bright white flannel dress, shiny red pumps, her skull pendant, and nothing else.
“‘The Cigar Band’?” asks Grant. “I assume you don’t smoke cigars during your performance!” (Incidentally, the rec room is fully air-conditioned, so Jack and Eloise permit smoking there.)

“We sure do,” says Jeanette, in that low voice. They set up on the bandstand in the room and perform “Milord.” They get applause, not only from Mom and Grant, but the whole group present. This includes Sylvia, who continues to take notes as any professional critic would.
Now Buster walks into the room. He saunters over to our group. Cool as a cucumber, he faces Mom, sitting a few feet in front of her.

Alice says, “This is Buster.”
“Well, hello, cutie pie,” says Mom; she too is a cat person. Buster jumps up onto her lap. I use ESP on Buster; he thinks, Cutie Pie! Now that’s a new one! He purrs softly as Mom strokes his fur.

Jerry Britton, George Sharp, and Daniel approach. I wonder if they had been reading my mind. Out of the corner of my eye, I sense that Lorraine Adler is just about to step into the rec room; Leo quickly vanishes. My brother Grant—takes one to know one—sees the impudent trio of Messrs. Sharp, Britton, and Terwilliger himself, and he comments:

[NDP]

“I think I just felt the earnestness level of the room drop.”

Ms. Adler enters the room preoccupied with some notes she’s jotting down on a pad. She then looks up at Jerry, George, Daniel, and the newly-arrived Grant.

“So,” she inquires, “are any of you (besides Jerry Britton) also part of the show?”

“We’re a new addition to the program,” says George Sharp. “We all share a common interest but, until a few months ago, none of us were aware we shared this interest. Then, Jerry brought us together and now we’re ready to share our musical love of this subject with the rest of the world.”

“And Jerry, what would that be?” Lorraine asks.

I know Jerry has no idea what George is talking about but he wants to keep this ruse going. So, he says, “I think George can explain it better than I can. I mean he is the one in our group who knows the most about the subject.”

“Oh, I’m not,” George states while pretending to be modest. “I defer to Grant on this matter.”

For half a second, Grant’s face is flushed with discomfort. I do a quick ESP scan of him and notice he’s thinking, “You bastard.” Then, Grant starts to grin. He knows what he wants to say.

“The Uniform Commercial Code,” he replies.

“The Uniform Commercial Code?” Ms. Adler repeats.

“Yes, we all love the Uniform Commercial Code–or the UCC as it’s commonly known,” Grant explains with a completely deadpan expression. “We all love the UCC so much that we’ve set sections of it to music. That’s what we’re going performing at the benefit.”

“That’s why they call their group The Code Jockeys,” I add. “Of course, they used to be UCC/XTC–sort of a homage to AC/DC–but there’s already the group XTC so they changed it.”

“Exactly,” agrees Daniel. “I’m a big fan of XTC and I didn’t want to run of the risk of getting them after us.”

“Well, if the first name of your group was intended as a homage to AC/DC, can I assume that the music that backs your readings of the Uniform Commercial Code has kind of a heavy metal bent to it?” ask Ms. Adler.

Jerry Britton, who now also has a blank look on his face, answers…

[NDP]

[Bad grammar! This paragraph should read:]

“Yes, we all love the Uniform Commercial Code–or the UCC as it’s commonly known,” Grant explains with a completely deadpan expression. “We all love the UCC so much that we’ve set sections of it to music. That’s what we’re going to perform at the benefit.”

[dougie_monty]

“Well, it’s ‘bent,’ sort of.”
Jerry, George, and Daniel now start exchanging goofy remarks until I break in.

“Hold it!” I say. “I know who you are supposed to be. Moe, Larry, and Curly.”
Grant, who, of course, grew up listening to my comebacks, snaps at me, “Wise off!”

“And you’re Shemp!” I snap back at him.
“You’re right, ________,” says Alice. “There’s no straight man for miles!”

I now leave the trio, and my brother, to continue the interview without me. The rest of our group in the rec room has busted up laughing.
Mary Blonda pulls herself together—emotionally, of course. As sometimes happens, she has burst the buttons off her blouse. I give her my shirt to cover her exposed bosom; she goes with Fifi to her bedroom, where she’ll put on another blouse. It would be so much easier if she wouldn’t wear the old, worn ones around other people… :rolleyes:

My Mom walks over to The Cigar Band to talk to Jeanette, who, as we all noticed, has undulated so sensuously under that flannel dress. I can’t resist sneaking a look at Johnny and Phil—as I supposed, they’re both erected. :eek: (Jerry, of course, is still in the interview.) So I quickly look away. :o
“Ms. Strong, do you really think it’s wise to appear in public in a dress that clings like that?” Mom asks.

Jeanette smiles and stands up, showing her six-foot stature. Mom apparently senses that this platinum-blond woman has little to fear.
Now Alice and I slip away from the group and talk to Fred. Mary, wearing another blouse, hands me back my shirt.

“Are we going to talk to Nicholas soon?” Alice asks him. “We only have a few days left before Lorna’s wedding and the benefit.”
“Yes,” says Fred, “but it’ll be a day or so before we go down there. Parker and Breastly want to come along, to press Red about the Shakespeare quote, which, as I understand, _____, you have mustered a variation on.”

“What’s that?” I ask.
“‘This is your world, we just live in it’—Alice’s statement,” says Fred. “We’ll ask Red about that. We want you to tell him about your bus ride.”

I remember and snicker. “That’s when Samantha drove the bus after Jeanette stripped herself naked and the driver jumped out!”
“That’s right,” answers Fred. “But we’d better let Jeanette herself tell Red about that—she exposed herself, and, besides, she is a relative of the Luglio family that Red has been so close to.”

Alice and I stand there, arms around each other. I can feel her heartbeat, and I suppose she can feel mine. The two hearts seem to be beating in synchronization.
Fred now gives us an “I-sure-would-like-to-know-when-you-two-are-going-to-get-married!” look.

He continues. “Oh—Alice, that ‘sequel’ book—how far are you now in decoding it?”
“I’m nearly finished,” she says. “I’ll print out the decoded text before the wedding. The content gets juicier and more absorbing by the page!”

“Fine,” says Fred. “And I assume you’ve both read the ‘Livers’ and “Sub-basement’ books?”
“All but the last chapter of each,” say Alice and I.

“Fine,” says Fred. “We should be able to prepare a report soon, even thought we haven’t finished the papers Lal Thakkar sent us from Jubbulpore.”
Now Professor Fields and Edmond Bartholomew come into the room. We spend some time with them, to prepare for the meeting with Lester Paulsen and the suspects.

“I’ll also want you to come to my office for the Aalto deposition,” says Mr. Bartholomew. “Lee Pitt will represent Lemoyne.” Alice and I nod.
We return to the others in the rec room. Ms. Adler has finished the interview with the irreverent trio and Grant, who, in the field of sheer impudence, takes a back seat to nobody.

While the get-together continues in the rec room, Alice and I go to the Green Room. Mom comes along; Buster follows. So do Jerry, George, Daniel—and Sylvia. We’re also joined in the Green Room by Jack Sharp, Bob Blonda, Joe Bradley, Pete Oranjeboom, and Stan Brown. And Grant.

The five husbands, who do the zany act in penguin suits, are in a merry mood as they exchange comments with Grant, Jerry, and the others about their interview with Lorraine Adler. Jack Sharp speaks first.

[NDP]

“I get the feeling Ms. Adler believes you were serious about the whole Code Jockeys/setting-the-UCC-to-music business.”

“Well, if she was on to us, she certainly never let on,” Jerry says.

“I guess we’ll to wait for the article to come out to find out for sure,” Grant says with a smile. “If she writes glowingly about us, people may really be so interested in hearing us, we’ll have to actually perform. We’d have to start pouring over the UCC and writing tunes for each regulation.”

“That might raise some interesting copyright issues,” I comment. “I wonder for use of the ‘lyrics’ if you’d have to pay royalties to some commercial law professors.”

“Maybe Professor Fields knows,” Alice says.

“No, I’m afraid intellectual property is not my area of expertise,” answers Professor Fields who has just walked into the Green Room and overheard our conversation. “And neither is the Uniform Commercial Code. I took some UCC courses in law school and found that reading the textbook would cause a chronic insomniac to fall into a coma.”

Having taken some UCC courses myself, I chuckle at Professor Field’s accurate description. However, as I do, I notice someone in the back of the room I haven’t seen before. His head is partially hidden by a smoky gray homburg and he’s wearing a long black trenchcoat with maroon buttons. He seems to be trying to keep a low profile. I motion to Alice and ask her if she knows who the strange man is.

“I don’t who that is,” she says after glancing at the figure. “Did that man come with you, Professor Fields?”

“No, he didn’t,” he answers. “I’ve never seen him before.”

Just then, the man in the black trenchcoat suddenly…

[dougie_monty]

…approaches Alice and me. He doffs his hat and trench coat. I recognize him immediately.
Alice says, “I’ve seen him somewhere before…”

“Alain!” I say. “You are the brother of Louis, the regular cook employed by Lord and Lady Astorbilt!”
“That is correct, Monsieur,” he answers, in a light, lilting French accent.

I remember the card Alain gave me. It’s still in my wallet. I pull it out.
“You helped me locate my clothes—the Astorbilts’ staff did not understand me. I just could not think of the words in English to ask the household staff, and they could not make sense out of my words in French. Louis does not speak French as a cook.”

The card reads:
ALAIN DUVAL
LEGAL CONSULTANT/CONSEIL LEGAL
Intellectual Property, Surveillance, Business Law [followed by the same thing in French]…

Fred approaches.
“Monsieur Duval got here a few minutes ago,” he explains. “He dressed this way at my request, to be less conspicuous to our nosy reporter. His brother Louis and I go way back.”

“Monsieur Moreland is an old friend of our family,” adds Alain. “Besides, I can answer your questions about ‘performing’ the Uniform Commercial Code.”
I call Jerry, Daniel, George Sharp, and my brother Grant over, to discuss the issue with Monsieur Duval.

I also notice a familiar ring on Alain’s hand.
“Zat ees right, Monsieur ______, I am a DXM person too. Zat ees one reason Monsieur Moreland admitted me to the house.” Alice and I finally excuse ourselves and return to a chair near where my Mom sits, chatting with Eloise, Jeanette, Samantha, and Hermione.

“What’s that all about?” Mom asks.
“Grant and those guys he’s with told that reporter, Lorraine Adler, that they’re going to sing excerpts from the Uniform Commercial Code at our benefit at the Morpheus.”
“They’re going to sing a bunch of laws?” Mom asks.
“That’s what they said,” Alice says. She sits close to me.

Jeanette tells us that The Cigar Band has played Big Band stuff, like Glenn Miller, Artie Shaw, Tommy Dorsey, and Duke Ellington. She adds that, after Jerry finishes his conversation with his fellow smart-alecks (including Grant, with whom he hits it off very well), they will set up and start playing Big Band music.

The conversation turns to families and children. Mom mentions Grant, Janet, Stephan, and me. Jeanette says she has no children; Samantha shows Mom a picture of her daughter Thalia, in a blouse and skirt, taken by Frannie, Eloise’s own daughter.
“She’s really pretty,” Mom says. Samantha, who resembles Thalia closely, looks down and blushes.

Mom looks at the frame and sees the name “Frances Sharp” printed in one corner.
“Is Frances your daughter?” Mom asks.
“Yes, she is,” says Eloise. She proudly shows Mom a photograph of her and Jack with their kids. Jack and his sons all wear black suits, white shirts, and red neckties; Eloise and her daughters wear identical dark-green dresses with gold brooches.

Mom counts. She is stunned. “My God, Eloise—you have fifteen kids!”
“Haven’t you ever met mothers of large families, Ms. Niles?” Eloise asks.
“Well, yes, I have,” Mom says. “In fact, my own parents raised ten kids.”

Then Fifi appears.
“Missus Sharp, telephone.” Alain notices Fifi and gallantly introduces herself. Eloise leaves; I see Ms. Adler in the room, out of the corner of my eye.

Fred appears, with Alice’s parents, Paul and Eda. He asks Alice and me, and my Mom, to come with him and them into the library. Puzzled, we comply. As we walk out the door I see a slip of paper on the floor with the message “We are with you” in English and several other languages. My ESP seems to indicate this is a positive message, not a note from a stalker.
In the library, Fred says, “Show your parents what is on your backs. I’ll explain later.”

Alice and I shrug, and comply; Paul, Eda, and my Mom all gasp when they see our wings. We assure our elders that the wings are fully functional and we have long since become adept at flying. Fred tells us to redon our clothes and return to the rec room.

Jeanette and her combo have set up and are playing Big Band music; quite a few couples, including George and Betty Galloway—and, interestingly, Lloyd Werdin and Harriet McKenna—are out on the floor doing forties dances. I even think I see Leo! Alain Duval approaches and, as the typical charming Frenchman, invites my Mom out onto the dance floor. Alice, Fred, and I look on; Fred comments:

[NDP]

“Your mother’s quite a dancer.”

“Yes,” I agree, “I’m rather surprised. I don’t ever remember seeing her and my father dance while I was growing up.”

“Maybe she’s been taking lessons,” Alice suggests.

As Jeanette’s combo plays Take the ‘A’ Train, we watch them jitterbug effortlessly. While I’m impressed with my mother’s dancing, I find the sight slightly jarring. It’s like she’s been keeping some part of her life secret from me all this time.

When the number ends, Paul and Eda approach and take a long look at Alice and me. Although they are trying to enjoy themselves, they still seem little shocked about seeing our wings.

“All I can say is that you never saw anything like that on my side of the family,” mutters Eda.

“Hey, don’t blame my genes,” Paul somewhat testily replies. “Even if it were true, how do you explain _____? Right, ____?”

“I guess you’re right,” I say not expecting to find myself in a domestic dispute. “Maybe it’s because Alice and I sat too close to the TV when we were kids.”

“I knew it!” Eda exclaims. “I told you not to let little Alicesit right in front of that wood-paneled radiation box. It’s a wonder she doesn’t glow in the dark.”

“Oh, that’s bollocks,” Paul replies. “There’s no proof anybody ever got too much radiation from sitting too close to the TV.”

“It’s a joke,” I explain. “I wasn’t serious. Actually, we have no idea why we have wings.”

“But they are quite useful once you get used to them,” Alice adds.

“I just wish you could’ve told us about them sooner,” Eda states. “You really shouldn’t hide things like that from us.”

“I didn’t know how you’d take it,” Alice says. “I just didn’t feel ready until today.”

As Alice and her mother discuss this matter, my mother and Alain rejoin our group. This prompts Fred to say…

[dougie_monty]

“Have you been keeping something from me?”
“Why, no, I haven’t,” I say. “I only met Alain at the Astorbilts’ party.”

“Sure,” says Fred with a shrug. Then Jeanette and her partners pick up sheet music for Fifties stuff.
First, however, Johnny Goss, as a joke, starts to play Elton John’s “Crocodile Rock” on Eloise’s concert grand piano. He hits some clinkers, and everybody stops, knowing something is wrong.

I lift the piano lid and see a long wooden box, about like a flute case, under the bass strings. I can’t reach it, and I call Fred.
He leaves, but returns in a few minutes with an odd-looking tool much like a water key from a garden.

“Missus Sharp had the piano customized about a year ago,” he says. “Some of the fittings are only accessible from below.” He turns the key in the underside, and a lid opens downward.
Fred reaches the wooden box. I use ESP on it, but it’s apparently lined with lead. Fred gingerly removes it, as a bomb-squad member might handle a suspicious package.

“Allow me,” says Hermione. She takes two jump ropes from the nearby closet, and carefully carries the box out a side door on the ropes. She calls Winifred and Bob Long on her cell phone. Fred closes the underside of the piano. I do the ESP shtick, and find nothing wrong with the piano. Johnny plays some scales and he too is satisfied.

Johnny asks, “Mrs. Sharp, who has been at the piano lately?”
“In the last three weeks, only a piano tuner, a new fellow”— Eloise herself hesitates here, her own suspicion growing—named Rex Litton.”

I recognize the last name. “That’s the name of the guy who tried to break in!” I say.
“You know, you’re right,” says Eloise. She tells Fred. “Go ask Hermione if they have a record on Rex Litton.” He does so. Meanwhile, Jeanette and the others start playing again. They start with “Rock around the Clock”; Alice and I join in on the dance floor.

The band also plays slow numbers like “My Prayer.” At one point I tell Alice, “I think it’s strange that Fred would have told our elders about the wings!”
“Ah, but remember,” she says as she snuggles close to me, “Daniel already knew about them…”
“So perhaps he could have already told your parents—if he were a loose cannon…”
“I think your cannon is better,” whispers Alice.

Now George and Betty Galloway want to trade partners with us. Betty is in fact an experienced dancer; so is George, as I observe. The band plays another slow number. As we dance, I tell Mrs. Galloway about the box.
“You think maybe more minions of Sikes-Potter or Lemoyne are stalking you?” Mrs. Galloway asks.

“It’s hard to say,” I answer. “The only person around the piano was the tuner, Rex Litton—who apparently came about the time another Litton tried to break in.”
“That’s a pity,” Betty says. “I know the Littons—they’ve been a musical family for years.”

The dancing and music stop; we sit down for a while, slightly pooped. I sit at a table; a phone on it rings. “Would you please get that, ______?” asks Eloise. I pick up the handset.
“Good afternoon—Sharps’ home,” I say.

“Hello, is this ______?” asks a prim female voice.
“That’s me,” I answer.

“This is Terri Strickland. I’m calling from the office of attorney Lester Paulsen. We’ve set the meeting for tomorrow at 1:30 p.m., in front of the police station, with officers Bob Long and Winifred Terwilliger. Fields and Bartholomew have also been notified.”
“Thanks, ma’am,” I say; I hang up. I call Winifred, Fields, and Mr. Bartholomew to verify the appointment.

Now I go outside, with Alice, as some of our group stands, at a safe distance, from the flute-case-like box. Ex-Marines Stan Brown and Joe Bradley open the box carefully. It’s lined with lead, all right. But there’s no explosives or harmful chemicals, as Alice and I determine with our ESP. We all say “Wow!” as we see what is in the box…

[NDP]

a brightly shining silver 12 inch key.

Like everyone else in the room, I’m mesmerized. Yet, as I stare at the glowing object, I remember that it was stored in a lead-lined case. Putting these factors together, one question immediately pops into my mind.

“You don’t think it’s radioactive do you?”

When I say this, Stan–who apparently had the same thought I did–carefully runs a geiger counter over the key. I don’t hear any audible clicks, pops, or beeps.

“It’s clean,” Stan says.

“Well, that’s good to know,” Alice replies as she shields her eyes from the key’s glare. “But what does it go to?”

“I can’t think of anything in the house that needs a key like that to open it,” states Eloise.

“It may not be to anything in your house,” Fred suggests as he approaches the case to examine the key inside. He’s wearing dark glasses to protect his eyes from the object’s brightness. He crouches down and silently looks at the key for several minutes.

Then, he comments, “That’s interesting.”

“What is?” I inquire.

"This key…

[dougie_monty]

“…bears a pattern I noticed when I was in the upper basement in the Morpheus. I saw it on the wall of the channel at the side of the Hellmouth access, as if there were a second door to the lower chamber.”
“I don’t see why there would be a second access to the same place,” Alice says.

“It’s not exactly the same place, Alice,” says Fred. There would be no reason to go to this trouble for a second access. I think that side channel, where I saw the pattern that’s on this key, is a path to someplace else…”
I sigh. :rolleyes: “Well, I know Parker and Breastly are planning to talk to Red Nicholas again… maybe Red, or one of the Hellmouth critters, can tell us about that.”

“Let’s not forget the texts we already have,” Alice points out. “Just in case the key is mentioned in them.”
I think of something else. “Is there any similarity between this key and the one you opened the ‘underlid’ on the piano with?”

Fred still has that key, which looks more like a water key from a garden.
Eloise has come outside to join us. She is not, of course, so tall or statuesque as Jane Bradley or Jeanette Strong, but she swivels quite well under the green dress she wears. She says, “Well, I think we should contact Litton’s Music and question the tuner who came out here.”

While the others inside pause from their Fifties music and dancing, Eloise slips her cell phone out from between her boobs—a sight which must really turn her husband on—and takes a card holder from her wallet. She finds a business card for Litton’s Music and calls them.
She waits, apparently having to listen to a voice-mail menu.

“Yes, I want to talk to a piano tuner.” Another pause.
“Hello, this is Eloise Sharp…yes, that’s me…I’d like to know if you have a record of Rex Litton coming out here to tune my concert grand… Steinway… Yes, that would be last October 16th… Well, we think he left something in the piano when he finished… Yes, we removed it—a wooden box like a flute case… Yes, we have played it, and it plays beautifully… OK, I’ll wait.”

Another pause.
“Yes, that’s it…October 16th, full tuning… Well, it took him about three hours—it’s a full-size piano… He what? Oh, all right… What’s the name? Where? [She chuckles slightly.] Oh, certainly, we can do that—we’ll call you if we do. Fine. That’s Jack or Eloise Sharp, or our children, or Fred Moreland, Fifi Charpentier, Doreen Fletcher, or Lupe Guzman. Fine. Bye.” Eloise hangs up.

“Well, they don’t know anything about a box Rex may have put into the piano,” she says. “About the time he tuned it he was living in a small apartment in the building housing Loora’s business. He’s been on a leave of absence for a few days and is likely at the apartment now. They expect him back tomorrow or the next day.”
I sense a connection between Rex’s apartment and the fact that Loora’s business deals in precious metals.

“That’s Peterson, Waldron and Oranjeboom,” Alice says.
“Did somebody call ‘Oranjeboom’?” asks Katrina, Loora’s older daughter, arm-in-arm with Mary Blonda’s son Bobby.

“We’re talking about someone who lives in the building where your mother works, Katrina,” I say.
“Oh—you’ll have to ask Mom about that, says the precocious, pretty 12-year-old. “The only person I know of who lives in the building is a funny man named Rex, who does magic tricks—but he’s not so good at it as Mom and Dad are.”

“Magic tricks?” Fred, Alice, and I say to each other. The piano, the silver key, Loora’s building, Rex the piano tuner, the side passage in the Hellmouth entrance…
Suddenly I get a telepathic message.

This is Al the Alien. A bunch of us Hellmouth critters will scan the region for Rex Litton and notify you. Call 1-QUINCY on your cell phone at 6 o’clock tonight.
Fred says, “Well, all we can do now is wait.”

We go back inside. The music and dancing resumes—now The Cigar Band plays Sixties stuff. Alice and I join in, along with Fred and his wife Lucretia, and Eloise and Jack…

[NDP]

However, dancing is not my strong suit. I do a spastic herky-jerky version of The Frug as the band plays Land of 1,000 Dances. I look at Alice and see she’s mustering all her restraint to keep from laughing. I decide to “rest” and sit the next one out.

As I watch the rest of the group do The Monkey, I fell a vibration in my pants pocket. It’s my cell phone. I answer it and hear the voice of…

[dougie_monty]

Professor Fields.
“We want you to return to the Morpheus. Not just because of the upcoming benefit and the last series of rehearsals, but also so Mr. Bartholomew and I can fill you and Alice in on what you’ll be expected to talk about at the Aalto deposition.”

“Okay, Professor,” I say. “Anything else?”
“Yes,” Fields says. “Lieutenant Clay want to have your meeting with Paulsen and his suspects inside the police station. They have a large conference room adjoining the lobby, that the watch commander will let us use.”

“Fine,” I say. I ring off and locate Eloise. The dance session is over.

Eloise gets on the PA system and says we’re all to go to the Morpheus now. The Cigar Band packs up. Now we all return to the theater, leaving the Sharps’ household staff—minus Fred, of course—at the mansion. We start preparing the theater. Eloise has me use the floor polisher on the stage again; she and Louise go to a supermarket to stock up the pantry and replenish custodial supplies. Jack and Andrew take our costumes to a dry cleaner; Jeanette and Samantha visit a specialty store to get makeup for the performers. Arthur, Daniel, and Stan Brown do some work on the sound equipment. When Eloise and Jack return from the stores, they go over the paperwork from the college, including such things as insurance.

“How are the ticket sales?” I ask.
“It’s almost a sellout,” says Jack. “We’re supposed to have a visit from an agent of the local AIDS Foundation to wrap up the disbursement arrangements.”

Alice and I meet with Fred, Salbert, Leo, and Buster. We owe it to the audience we’ll have, to ensure their safety during the performance. Leo says he’ll be in charge—along with Al the Alien—of the Hellmouth critters who will oversee the benefit.
“I’ve done my part to keep mice from appearing anywhere in the Morpheus,” says Buster.

I look out a window and see Lorraine Adler, who has apparently finished her interviewing, go into the newspaper office. Alice and I are fairly sure about what won’t be in her feature article…
Dr. Clouse and Dr. Ferruccio Luglio do their part—giving physicals to all the performers.

Alice comments this will keep them busy for a while.
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” says Laura, “with Ferruccio here. Oh—Alice, you’re first.”

Telepathically, Laura tells Alice and me: * I’ll take all the people with wings—including Gwen, Hermione, April Blonda—and oh, there’s one other person in our group who has wings now…*
Just then Dr. Luglio appears; he asks me to leave; they’re busy doing doctor stuff. I leave, after a quick embrace with Alice.

Well, we have a few other fish to fry…
Mary Blonda bats out a tentative program, on Jack Sharp’s ancient typewriter. The college will print up the program to be distributed to the audience, and they have a deadline.

I note that Prester John’s Aunt is listed as the opening act, but Mary hasn’t yet written down what titles they’ll be playing. And, in deference to Sylvia, Claudia Hart’s mime act will not be the closing act. Mary has written that it will be either Laura Clouse singing “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Miz, or “The Smart-Aleck Combo,” as I call them—Jerry, Daniel, George Sharp, and my brother Grant ______. Mary will decide soon which will be the closing act.

I also notice the arrival of James Parker and Joan Breastly; it looks like soon we’ll be going down to visit Nicholas—along with Fred, for the first time—to get Nicholas’ full story on the “Tempest” quote.
Meanwhile, Eloise goes to the Terwilligers’ place with Hermione, Stan, Louise, Jane’s brother Phil, and Brenda Sharp, herself a notary public, to effect the sale of the Browns’ platinum ingot, which, like the one Alice and I sold, is apparently devoid of inscriptions or demons. And as before, the armored car will pick up the ingot at the Sharps’ mansion.

Now Carol Woo brings us a sumptuous lunch from Sam Chu Lin’s place. We set up the tables in the conference room; Carol, Samantha, and George Sharp serve the food.
Alice and I sit together at a table with Mom, Grant, and the Blonda family; with them are the new friends of the kids, Kenny Sharp, and Loora’s daughters, Katrina and Maria. Mary pencils in some changes on a proof of the program, and shows it to Alice and me.

[NDP]

It now includes Lorna McManus’ set. She’s pared it down to four songs:Acid Queen, Under My Thumb, Look of Love, and Stupid Girl,. However, underneath the song list, there’s a question mark. I ask Mary about it.

“Lorna might sing a fifth song if time permits,” she explains. “It’ll probably be My Funny Valentine but it’s not definite yet.”

Alice and I scan the program a bit more. We notice the name of a new act we know nothing about: an apparent duo called Kwisp & Kwake.

“Who’s Kwisp & Kwake?” Alice asks.

Mary smiles at the mention of the act and cryptically answers…

[dougie_monty]

“That’s going to be a truly odd couple—Tomasso Luglio and Katrina Oranjeboom.” Loora is sitting nearby and I note she approves of the act. Katrina, of course, sits nearby, with her boyfriend Bobby Blonda. He squeezes her hand when his mother mentions her name.
“What do they do?” Alice and I ask in unison. I’ve noticed she and I do that a lot lately.

Mary extracts a slip of paper from her shirt pocket. Bobby blushes as he sees his mother with her hand over her bosom like that.
“According to this list,” Mary says, “‘Kwisp & Kwake’ may do ‘Who’s on First?’, by Abbot and Costello; ‘Stairway to Heaven’ by Led Zeppelin; the ‘Anything You Can Do’ duet from Annie Get Your Gun; or Liszt’s ‘Hungarian Rhapsody No. 5.’”

“That’s quite a varied list” [no pun intended!], Alice and I say, again in unison.
Now Tomasso—Anna’s dad and Jeanette Strong’s second cousin—appears, and joins Katrina. In fact she excuses herself from Bobby—he blushes deep red when she kisses him on the lips—and steps up on the platform with Tomasso.

They do:

1. The last part of “Who’s on First?”, with Tomasso doing Abbott’s part and Katrina doing Costello’s.

2. “Stairway to Heaven,” using instruments borrowed from The Cigar Band. The instruments have been stored in a closet in the conference room while the regular storage area is washed down.

3. “Anything You Can Do” from Annie Get Your Gun, with Jane Bradley at the piano.

4. Liszt’s rhapsody. For this Stan and Joe wheel another piano into the room.

The odd duet receives a round of delighted applause. Tomasso then steps down off the platform to the embraces of his wife and daughter; Katrina steps down too. This time Bobby Blonda runs over and, with his arms around Katrina, kisses her on the lips, almost producing smoke from her ears! :eek:
Kwisp & Kwake return to the platform briefly, to make an announcement.

“We’ve considered another bit for Ms. Blonda to choose from,” Tomasso says.
“What else could you choose?” asks Alice, surprised. “That’s as motley a selection as I could ever have contemplated!”

“How about the ‘viaduct’ routine Groucho and Chico did in The Cocoanuts?” replies Katrina.
Everybody laughs at this.

Now an old friend of Alice’s appears. This is Jill McMillan, from the college library. Her dad Bob is the Sharps’ gardener. Jill, of course, designed the “interactive” setup in Alice’s car that allows the Beetle to talk. I’ve met Jill countless times. She seems the stereotyped librarian, with horn-rimmed glasses, long straight black hair parted in the middle, a turtleneck sweater—a thin one, because of the summer—and jeans. I use ESP on Jill and determine not only that her light blue sweater is made of nylon and probably weighs less than ten ounces, but that—shades of Jeanette—she wears no underwear. And she has an hourglass figure, which, as with Jeanette, wobbles sensuously as she walks.

She tells us that the Clarion, the college newspaper, itself will run a feature article on the benefit. She’s on the paper’s staff, and she’ll use some of the copy Ms. Adler is preparing for the article to run in the Courier-Times.
Now she turns in the direction of the almost-identical Sharp kids.

As if guided by ESP herself, she fixes her attention on Irwin, and introduces herself to him. He greets her cordially; they sit together.
“This should dispel any notion George still has about an unnatural relationship Irwin may have with Helen,” I tell Alice in a soft voice.

“Especially so, since Helen seems to have hit it off, lately, with Anna’s brother Vittorio,” Alice answers.
“Vittorio? I haven’t met him…”

“He’s a cook at Del Caro’s,” says Alice.
I excuse myself and go into the lounge. I walk over to the soda-pop machine. I want Barq’s Root Beer, but when I push the button I get a can of Super Coola Root Beer, a canned product with a conical top, from the late fifties.

Leo is present. He sighs. “A ghost’s work is never done,” he comments. “Say, ______, why don’t you unwind? You look weary.”
“You sure don’t need ESP to tell that, Leo,” I say with a smile. I see Alice approaching, out the corner of my eye.

Leo continues. “Did you know there’s a sauna—or as we used to call it, a Turkish bath—in the theater?”
“No, I didn’t,” I say. I sense Alice knew about it. She approaches and embraces me.

“It’s down at the end of the east hall,” says Leo. “Well, I have some more ghost stuff to do. I’ll see you around.” He starts to fade out.
“We’ll see you later, Leo,” Alice and I say in unison.

“Alice, I didn’t know there was a Turkish bath in the Morpheus!” I say, gazing happily into those big brown eyes.
“Well, now you know.”

Arm-in-arm we leave the lounge, and walk to the end of the east hall, stopping at a side room Alice points out to me. We shed our clothes and don terry bathrobes, and pick up towels. We open the door at the end of the hall. I recognize all the faces and voices in the Turkish bath. But as Alice and I go inside, I am astonished at what I see and blush the way Bobby Blonda did.

“I thought we needed bathrobes in here!” I say. Alice smirks.