lrh.fortuneoffear-第8部分

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　　　I　was　utterly　penniless　again！
　　　The　fatal　kiss　of　the　Countess　Krak！
　　　Rage　gave　way　to　despair。　I　hung　my　head。　The　voice　of　Mamie　Boomp　still　came　through　my　cloud　of　utter　despondency。　She　was　making　a　list　of　〃bare　necessities〃：　silk　panty　hose　and　bras；　morning　coats；　cocktail　dresses；　evening　gowns；　suits；　skirts　and　spare　blouses　with　the　most　expensive　Holland　lace；　shoes；　boots　and　ermine　house　slippers；　fifty　assorted　negligees；　the　jewels　to　go　with　it　all　and　ending　up　with　〃various　fur　coats〃　including　a　full；　evening；　Blackgama　mink　hood　and　cape。
　　　〃This　list；〃　she　concluded；　〃will　last　at　least　two　months　and　carry　you　to　spring。　But　at　that　time；　of　course；　you'll　need　to　reoutfit　to　hold　on　to　your　sailor。
　　　Now　let's　get　down　to　services；　beginning　with　a　new　hairdo。　I　advise　against　the　new　style　of　shaving　half　the　head　and　painting　it　all　blue。　You　just　don't　have　the　time。　Bonbucks　Teller's　beauty　salon　will　advise　it　but　I　think　that　the　new　windblown　style；　gold　aura；　this　one　where　they're　using　ruby　dust；　will　go　just　fine　with　your　plexion。　Providing　you　wear　enough　blue…white　diamonds　to　enhance　the　eyes。　Now；　as　to　fingernails；　gold　leaf　seems　to　be　catching　on。。。。〃
　　　As　it　continued；　I　began　to　pick　up　a　sort　of　bitter　hope。　That　emerald　locket　was　worth；　I　thought；　no　more　than　fifty　thousand　dollars。　My　overtrained　and　presensitized　ear　was　scenting　that　this　〃bare　necessity〃　array　was　going　to　top　that。　At　Bonbucks　Teller；　a　Blackgama　mink；　the　top；　top　of　all　minks；　would　probably；　all　by　itself；　be　twice　the　value　of　that　locket！
　　　Hope　rose。　Regardless　of　my　own　loss；　Heller　was　going　to　get　roped　into　this　far　beyond　any　ready　cash　he　had。　He　hadn't　even　been　able　to　pay　for　all　of　Babe's　tiara；　now　languishing　forgotten　at　Tiffany's。　This　foreign　nightclub　tour　〃singer〃　and　this　vicious　criminal；　Countess　Krak；　were　tailoring　a　disaster　for　him　on　which　I　could　scarcely　hope　to　improve。　If　IRS　was　wiping　out　Heller；　this　pair　was　going　to　go　them　one　better　and　have　him　sleeping　in　the　park　and　eating　the　leavings　in　garbage　cans。　Gods　bless　such　stores　as　Bonbucks　Teller！　Gods　bless　fairies　who　designed　and　lured　unwary　and　helpless　males　into　shuddering　bankruptcy。　They　were　not　just　getting　rid　of　petition：　they　were　getting　rid　of　men　entirely！　Via　the　bankruptcy　court。　And　there　was　where　Heller　was　being　headed。

Chapter　6

　　　They　landed　at　John　F。　Kennedy　International　Airport　in　a　screech　of　wheels　and　a　roar　that　made　troops　bound　for　battle　seem　quiet　by　parison　and　tame。
　　　I　still　had　a　bastion　on　which　one　could　normally　count。　The　government　men…immigration；　customs　and　drugs…at　JFK　are　the　most　nasty　and　unweling　brutes　in　the　whole　world。　They　resemble　a　bunch　of　corpses　exhumed　on　a　cold　day。　They　make　a　foreigner's　first　introduction　to　America　so　hostile　that　a　walk；　naked；　in　absolute　zero　would　seem　warm　by　parison。
　　　I　hoped　they　would　find　the　locket；　undeclared；　and　confiscate　it　and　throw　the　Countess　Krak　into　the　mayhem　of　a　Federal　pen。　She　deserved　it。
　　　As　the　Countess　walked　in　to　the　line　of　U。　S。　Citizens　Being　Readmitted　on　Probation；　my　hopes　soared。　They　have　the　toughest；　most　silent　man　there　that　any　mortuary　could　devise。　He　looks　in　a　little　book　to　see　if　you　are　an　escaped　criminal　wanted　for　unpaid　parking　tickets　and　if　he　finds　your　name　or　number　or　if　you　e　up　on　his　puter　screen；　he　makes　a　signal　the　entering　person　cannot　see　and　Federal　police　do　a　vulture　pounce　from　all　sides。
　　　The　Countess　and　Mamie　walked　through；　chattering　about　clothes；　clothes；　clothes　and　fashions；　fashions；　fashions。
　　　Krak's　idle　eye　even　landed　on　the　puter　face　once。　It　said；　in　answer　to　her　passport　number：

I。　G。　Barben　drug　runner

　　　and　the　corpse　made　a　tiny　pencil　symbol　on　the　corner　of　a　passport　page　and　stamp；　stamp；　she　was　through！
　　　At　customs；　the　Federal　police　had　person　after　person　put　his　or　her　hands　against　the　walls；　legs　outspread；　while　efficient　and　snarling　frisking　went　on。
　　　The　Countess　and　Mamie　walked　on　through；　bags　all　chalked　with　okay　to　go；　talking　about　fashions；　fashions；　fashions　and　clothes；　clothes；　clothes…babes　in　the　lion's　den　without　a　glimmer　of　finding　out　any　lions　were　around。
　　　Gods！　At　those　moments　I　was　cursing　the　corrupt　inefficiency　of　the　bureaucracy；　let　me　tell　you！　They　not　only　didn't　find　the　locket；　they　didn't　even　search　her。
　　　They　stood　at　last　Admitted　and　Inside　The　Country。　Mamie　Boomp　had　a　baggage　mound　that　almost　pared　to　Krak's。　But　she　was　an　efficient　and　seasoned　traveller。　She　bopped　two　otherwise　busy　porters　over　the　head　with　her　Parisienne　parasol　and　the　baggage　was　promptly　loaded　on　two　separate　handcarts。
　　　〃That's　Bonbucks　Teller's　JFK　branch　right　over　there；　dearie。　The　one　with　the　gold　and　diamond　front。　See　the　sable　flag　flying　in　the　wind？　And　so　I'll　leave　you　now。　I　have　a　date　with　the　mayor　tonight　and　all　he　does　is　talk　about　his　awful　wife　so　I　got　to　get　home　and　rest　up　first。　Here's　my　business　card；　dearie。　Look　me　up　and　don't　let　them　paint　your　head　blue。〃
　　　They　kissed　and　the　Countess　was　on　her　own。
　　　Like　a　regiment　with　nothing　but　ruin　in　mind；　the　Countess　descended　upon　Bonbucks　Teller's。
　　　She　had　the　list。　She　sped；　prebriefed；　from　department　to　department；　pointing　at　a　thousand…dollar　item　here　and　a　ten…thousand…dollar　item　there。
　　　Her　only　pause　was　in　footwear。　They　had　an　elegant　display　of　〃disposable　shoes〃　at　one　hundred　dollars　a　pair；　Not　guaranteed　if　worn　more　than　one　day；　boxed　in　thirty…day　handy　supply　packages。　She　went　conservative　suddenly　and　only　bought　one　box。　Her　splurge　here　was　on　soft　Moroccan　leather　boots；　blue；　red　and　white；　that　went　with　The　Pirate　Look。　She　thought　she　had　better　have　two　of　each　as　they　were　on　sale　at　only　five　hundred　dollars　the　pair。
　　　How　apt；　I　thought。　Pirate　boots　for　a　real　bloodthirsty　pirate　with　a　record　as　long　as　the　Spanish　Main！
　　　The　〃marionette　shoes〃　that　gave　one　The　True　Puppet　Look　were　just　flap…flaps　of　colored　plastic　that　looked　like　they　were　riveted　to　the　sides　of　the　legs　and　toes。　She　didn't　favor　them　and　I　pletely　understood　why：　she　was　not　a　true…blue　marionette：　others　danced　to　the　Countess　Krak's　puppet　strings；　she　didn't　dance　to　their　tunes　worth　a　（bleep）！　She　only　bought　twenty　pairs。
　　　Clerks　were　following　her　about　like　jackals　hanging　around　a　lioness　to　pick　up　bits　of　the　kill。　They　were　tallying　up　a　list　so　long　it　took　a　second　clerk　to　carry　it。
　　　Oh；　Heller；　you　are　not　just　into　it；　you　are　done。　I　was　a　man　of　experience。　I　knew。
　　　There　was　quite　a　row　in　the　hair　salon。　Not　with　the　Countess　but　between　two　coiffateurs。　One　said　that　it　would　wrench　his　soul　if　he　could　not　shave　her　head　and　paint　it　blue　and　the　other；　fending　off　the　flashing　scissors　with　two　deadly　curling　irons；　said；　〃Touch　not　one　hair　of　that　golden　head　but　wreck　your　country's　flag　instead；〃　and　won！　A　dreadful　battle！　They　made　her　an　emergency　appointment　for　a　half　hour　hence；　to　give　her　a　〃golden　aura　windswept　with　ruby　dust；〃　and　rushed　her　to　the　accounts　office　to　tally　up　the　wounded　and　slain。
　　　The　accounts　manager　was　dressed　in　a　cutaway　morning　coat　with　tails。　But　he　didn't　fool　me。　He　had　digitals　running　at　a　greedy　pace　for　eyes。
　　　Seated　at　a　plush；　upholstered　desk；　the　Countess　Krak；　in　her　dingy　veil　and　hooded；　dirty　robe　with　holes　in　it；　must　have　looked　like　a　poor　risk。　She　had　yet　to　remove　the　healing　cup　above　one　eye　and　this　certainly　must　not　have　added　to　her　appearance　of　being　an　accounts　receivable。
　　　The　yards　of　bills　added　up　to　178；985。65　plus　New　York　sales　tax　of　11　percent。　Oh；　marvelous！　That　locket　would　not　even　cover　a　third　of　it！　Heller；　I　gloated；　you　have　had　it！
　　　〃Address？〃　said　the　accounts　manager。　It　is　too　forward　to　ask　for　names　in　such　a　place。　Such　wealthy　patrons　must　feel　known。
　　　The　Countess　was　looking　over　Mamie　Boomp's　list　to　see　if　she　had　missed　anything　important　like　the　right　color　necklace　to　go　with　the　breakfa