are, bring you on.”
He adeptly propelled himself on his mobile seat away from between her legs and said, “Hasn’t anyone told you that there are few things more fascinating for a man than a woman who enjoys her sexuality? Or, for that matter, anything more uplifting for a woman? For that you don’t have to cry. But you certainly should for being here. I give no lectures to women who come to me with your problem. I am only telling you what I tell the others. I will not help you again. Not to have taken precautions makes you criminally negligent.”
With that he rose from the seat and went to the washbasin. There he put on a white coat and washed his hands again. Cheyney heard the snap of the rubber gloves and sensed him sitting beside her again. “Take your arm away and look at me. Good. Now let’s make this easy for both of us. Relax. If you’re tense, it will be more difficult for you.” The thrust of rubber fingers deep inside her exploring, and then cold, cold steel. She despised the idea that he was looking right into the most secret, intimate place in her body.
She was dressed and more composed. Or as composed asshe could possibly be under the circumstances. Looking across his Park Avenue desk at her, he summed up the visit, “It’s not going to be easy. You have left it dangerously late. But it will be all right, and so will you. Someone will call you.” He looked at his watch. “I doubt whether it will be tonight. Write your telephone number down here and see to it that you are available to take the call. You can go now.”
“I would li …” she started to ask as she passed the scrap of paper across the desk to him. He took it, interrupting her with, “No questions. I thought you understood that.” He stood up and ushered her to the waiting-room door.
The first thing Najda said as they walked out into the damp, bitter cold night air was: “He is a pig, darlink, but safe. Come, we go for a drink to cheer you up. You have cash in the house? It’s always cash. No: Oh: You must go to the bank in zee morning. Zat
cochon
iss one of zee best lovers in New York. Wheeman are maad for him. Two wheeman I know tried the suisside because he left them. Imagine, eh.”
Cheyney imagined only one thing, that she was going to be sick in the street, and a block later she was. It didn’t get better. In fact, it got worse and worse, like some terrible nightmare that was never ending. At six o’clock in the morning, the telephone woke her from a restless sleep. A strange voice, “I believe you are waiting for this call. Eight hundred dollars in cash. I will call back to tell you where and when. It will have to be short notice, so be ready. It’s best to stay close to the telephone for the next few days.” Then a click and nothing but a dial tone. It had been a man’s voice.
The second call came at eleven that evening. “The Dudley Court Hotel, room 1247, West Eighty-ninth Street, just off Central Park West. You must come alone, by taxi, and be dropped off a few doors from the hotel. Only enter the Dudley Court after the taxi has driven away. Don’t stop at the desk. Go right to the self-service elevator and up to the twelfth floor. Remember, these precautions are as important for you as for us. Wear something loose and no undergarments. And leave your house now.”
Giving herself into the hands of other people was not easy for Cheyney at the best of times. What she was going through as she did it now was almost unbearable for her. The ParkAvenue visit had been dreadful enough. But at least then she had the kindness of Roland and Najda to help her through her ordeal. To think of another uncaring stranger violating her body again was enough to convulse her. For a brief moment she considered the alternative, only to realize that it was no solution.
She dressed as she had been told. Then put on her mink-lined raincoat, a matching fedora with a leopard-skin band around the crown, and leather boots to protect
He adeptly propelled himself on his mobile seat away from between her legs and said, “Hasn’t anyone told you that there are few things more fascinating for a man than a woman who enjoys her sexuality? Or, for that matter, anything more uplifting for a woman? For that you don’t have to cry. But you certainly should for being here. I give no lectures to women who come to me with your problem. I am only telling you what I tell the others. I will not help you again. Not to have taken precautions makes you criminally negligent.”
With that he rose from the seat and went to the washbasin. There he put on a white coat and washed his hands again. Cheyney heard the snap of the rubber gloves and sensed him sitting beside her again. “Take your arm away and look at me. Good. Now let’s make this easy for both of us. Relax. If you’re tense, it will be more difficult for you.” The thrust of rubber fingers deep inside her exploring, and then cold, cold steel. She despised the idea that he was looking right into the most secret, intimate place in her body.
She was dressed and more composed. Or as composed asshe could possibly be under the circumstances. Looking across his Park Avenue desk at her, he summed up the visit, “It’s not going to be easy. You have left it dangerously late. But it will be all right, and so will you. Someone will call you.” He looked at his watch. “I doubt whether it will be tonight. Write your telephone number down here and see to it that you are available to take the call. You can go now.”
“I would li …” she started to ask as she passed the scrap of paper across the desk to him. He took it, interrupting her with, “No questions. I thought you understood that.” He stood up and ushered her to the waiting-room door.
The first thing Najda said as they walked out into the damp, bitter cold night air was: “He is a pig, darlink, but safe. Come, we go for a drink to cheer you up. You have cash in the house? It’s always cash. No: Oh: You must go to the bank in zee morning. Zat
cochon
iss one of zee best lovers in New York. Wheeman are maad for him. Two wheeman I know tried the suisside because he left them. Imagine, eh.”
Cheyney imagined only one thing, that she was going to be sick in the street, and a block later she was. It didn’t get better. In fact, it got worse and worse, like some terrible nightmare that was never ending. At six o’clock in the morning, the telephone woke her from a restless sleep. A strange voice, “I believe you are waiting for this call. Eight hundred dollars in cash. I will call back to tell you where and when. It will have to be short notice, so be ready. It’s best to stay close to the telephone for the next few days.” Then a click and nothing but a dial tone. It had been a man’s voice.
The second call came at eleven that evening. “The Dudley Court Hotel, room 1247, West Eighty-ninth Street, just off Central Park West. You must come alone, by taxi, and be dropped off a few doors from the hotel. Only enter the Dudley Court after the taxi has driven away. Don’t stop at the desk. Go right to the self-service elevator and up to the twelfth floor. Remember, these precautions are as important for you as for us. Wear something loose and no undergarments. And leave your house now.”
Giving herself into the hands of other people was not easy for Cheyney at the best of times. What she was going through as she did it now was almost unbearable for her. The ParkAvenue visit had been dreadful enough. But at least then she had the kindness of Roland and Najda to help her through her ordeal. To think of another uncaring stranger violating her body again was enough to convulse her. For a brief moment she considered the alternative, only to realize that it was no solution.
She dressed as she had been told. Then put on her mink-lined raincoat, a matching fedora with a leopard-skin band around the crown, and leather boots to protect
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