‘Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please?’ Omar J. Fannin called, walking into the center of the lounge and raising his hands. Silence fell immediately and the guests looked expectantly around as he continued, ‘Now for what we’ve all been waiting to see. Allow me to present Greta of Dallas and Jodie from El Paso!’
Having concluded her discussion with Deputy Sheriff Bradford Counter and replaced the General Electric Voice Commander radio in her handbag, Woman Deputy Alice Fayde had returned to the bedroom. Finding Marla was talking with an attractive brunette who was changing into a brief blue satin bikini, she decided that she had not been overheard whilst contacting the blond giant. Saying no more than, ‘Sandra, this is Jodie’, the blonde had gone into the bathroom. Nor had the brunette engaged her in a lengthy conversation, but had advised her to go into the lounge if she wanted to have a drink before the bout started.
On rejoining Captain Sir Jeremiah Houghton-Rand and the plumpish, middle-aged, jovial-looking Oliver Lacey, the disguised redhead had had no opportunity to do more than give a confirmatory nod before their host had come to present them to the other guests. With this completed, he had asked everybody to be seated.
Positioning herself between the two men, Alice had contrived to conceal the radio, her Colt Cobra revolver and identification wallet under the pillows behind her without being detected. Taking into account the efficiency of the precautionary measures and where the party was being held, she had doubted whether a hold up would be possible. For all that, in case she should be wrong, she believed it was advisable to avoid her true status being established prematurely. If the gang succeeded in breaching the security of the Brendan Condominium complex—the open briefcase containing twenty thousand dollars in small bills offering a good inducement to try, even discounting whatever loot the guests had upon their persons—she would have no chance to hide her property on their arrival. If it was found, there might be shooting during which some of the genuine members of the party could be killed or injured.
While their host and hostess were serving drinks, there being no servants present, Alice had told her escort that reinforcements were in the vicinity, and of the conversation she had had with Marla. She had been informed by Lacey that her suppositions about the latter were justified. There were only two other girls present who he knew to be professional apartment house wrestlers and, as the opponent for the blonde had failed to attend, a substitute might be required. However, he had said there was no certainty that ‘Sandra’ would be selected. It was likely that some of the male guests had brought their own combatants, or one of the ‘silver spoons’ might want to participate in a bout.
Alice was wondering what she would do if the holdup did not take place and she was asked to be a combatant, this having been the reason given for herself and Houghton-Rand seeking an invitation, when Fannin called for silence and made the announcement.
While the introduction was being made, accompanied by a wave of a hand in the appropriate directions, two of the bedroom doors opened. A beautiful and curvaceous redhead came from the room on the right, and the brunette left the one to which Alice had been directed on her arrival. Each wore only a brief bikini, was barefoot and devoid of any jewelry. Sun bronzed and with makeup carefully applied, they were obviously strong and in excellent physical condition. Studying them and the other known professionals who were present, Alice concluded her training in unarmed combat might not assure her a victory if the holdup failed to materialize and she was compelled to engage in a bout to prevent the real reason for her presence being discovered to the detriment of Lacey’s business affairs.
Stalking from opposite directions to the center of the cleared area, Jodie and Greta began to circle one another without any preliminaries such as shaking hands. Instead, they made flickering feints and grabs in a mutual attempt to establish contact of an advantageous kind. Then, watched by the eager and increasingly excited crowd, they closed in and began to struggle.
It soon became clear to Alice that, as Lacey had warned, the exhibition she was witnessing had little in common with any other style of wrestling she had encountered. It was in fact, closer to a street brawl than a sporting contest. However, as the bout progressed, she also deduced that the combatants were very well trained for such a bout. They knew how to throw and pull a punch, slap, kick, or knee jab so the effect was less painful than it appeared to the spectators. What was more, while they clearly possessed some knowledge of various wrestling throws and counters, they were more interested in applying tactics and postures which enhanced their physical attributes for the appreciation of the male spectators. Not unexpectedly, considering the skimpy nature of their attire, each was not long left in possession of the brassiere portion of her bikini. Neither allowed the loss to deter her from her efforts.
The redhead derived little consolation from discovering that the bout she was watching was a well staged performance. According to Lacey, the first event of a party was generally between two girls supplied by an agency to serve as a reason for the gathering. Although they frequently put on a show, the subsequent bouts arranged on the spot were of a more seriously competitive nature with each combatant going all out to win. Therefore, if she was called upon to compete, she too would be compelled to do so if she wished to avoid being defeated. She knew herself well enough to be aware that she would be unwilling to lose without putting up a strenuous resistance and trying to emerge victorious.
For over fifteen minutes, writhing across the floor and tussling on their feet with great vigor, the two girls gave Fannin and his guests excellent value for their money. Finally, hair disheveled and bodies glistening with perspiration which testified to the amount of energy each had expended, Jodie contrived to turn Greta face down and straddle her torso near the bar. Facing towards the waving feet of her weakly struggling opponent, the brunette grasped the redhead’s skimpy bikini panties in both hands and looked around.
‘Sh—!’ Jodie gasped, tugging suggestively at the garment. ‘Shall I?’
Before any of the spectators could reply, Greta managed to twist her torso upwards and around between the spread apart thighs of her assailant. Placing the palm of her right hand against the shoulders of the brunette, she gave a push with all the strength she could muster. Taken unawares it seemed, Jodie was thrust from her perch and apparently went headfirst into the front of the bar. As the brunette collapsed limply, moving slowly and gasping in an exhaustion which was not simulated, the redhead crawled to roll her unresisting body on to its back. Having delivered a feeble slap with each hand to Jodie’s face, Greta tried to rise. Then, as if the effort had proved to be the final straw for her over-worked system, she crumpled to alight supine across the other girl.
Unnoticed by any of the spectators, even Alice and Houghton-Rand having been too engrossed in watching the bout, the door of the third bedroom had moved until it was slightly ajar shortly after the girls had commenced their tussling. Although the toilet facilities for the male guests were inside, nobody entered the lounge. Nor was there any indication of why or how the movement had taken place.
However, as Greta slumped on to Jodie, the door opened fully!
Moving apart as they emerged, three men and a woman came from the unlit bedroom!
Clad alike in black turtleneck sweaters, matching slacks, white cotton gloves and dark blue sneakers, the heads of the newcomers were covered by the kind of ski-masks which allowed unrestricted vision while concealing the features and rendering identification impossible. The largest of the men was armed with a Remington Brush-master twelve gauge, pump action, shotgun. Its barrel had been cut down until no longer than the five shot, tubular magazine; which converted it from a sporting gun into an exceptionally lethal weapon for use at close quarters. Each of his male companions was carrying a cocked Colt Government Model of 1911.45 automatic pistol and an empty flour sack.
About the same height as Alice, although she too carried a sack, the female intruder was not armed. She appeared to be dumpy and far from shapely in the attire she was wearing. The ski mask prevented the color or style of her hair from being seen, but there was sufficient bulk beneath the material to imply it was substantial in quantity. One reason for her presence was indicated by the Canon F-l single lens reflex camera suspended from her neck by its carrying strap. Its bulky lens was a 55mm F/1.2 S.S.C. Aspherical which, particularly if the film was up-rated beyond 400 A.S. A., was capable of taking photographs of a room as well lit as the lounge at a reasonably fast shutter speed without any need for a flash attachment to produce added illumination. Instead of the standard back, the camera had a ‘film chamber’ with a capacity of two hundred and fifty exposures and there was a ‘motor drive’ installed to make the most of this accessory. If she had been taking pictures of what was taking place, however, the commotion from the combatants and spectators had drowned the sound of the mechanism and shutter being regularly opened and closed.
‘Stay put, every god-damned last one of you!’ shouted the man with the shotgun, operating the “trombone” cocking slide to accentuate the command. Muffled by the ski mask, his voice had a harsh and snarling New England accent. ‘This is a hold up. Play it cool and nobody is going to get hurt!’
Startled masculine exclamations, or feminine squeals, burst from the occupants of the lounge; all of whom had remained unaware of the intrusion until hearing the man. Letting out a gasp of alarm, Greta raised her head and struggled into a sitting position. Behind her opponent, having contrived to take the impact against the bar on the shoulder and not the head as it had appeared to the spectators, Jodie gave up her pose of being stunned and also sat up.
‘Keep calm, everybody!’ Fannin ordered, holding his emotions under control although clearly just as surprised as all the guests. His demeanor continued to be authoritative, yet reassuring, as he went on, ‘Do as they tell you, there’s nothing to be gained by trying to resist!’
‘Smart thinking and sound advice, pappy!’ declared the biggest of the intruders, watching the men and women around the sides of the lounge who instinctively ceased any movement. ‘You can all get ready to hand over your wallets and anything else we ask for. Go to plucking them, fellers!’
Although she was grateful for Fannin’s sensible response, which served as a calming influence, Alice hoped neither he nor any of his guests reached the same conclusion that she had with regards to the camera carried by the masked woman!
If they did, it might provoke a response which could prove extremely dangerous!
Fortunately, however, it seemed that the summation of the redhead was being overlooked by the genuine guests!
Spreading out with the flour sacks held open, the men with the handguns and the woman advanced to commence the collection. Their companion remained by the door through which they had arrived, swinging the shotgun in a slow arc which encompassed the whole of the lounge. The way in which the trio operated proved that Alice had been justified in the precautions she had taken on sitting down. When her turn to be robbed came, the collector insisted she showed him the contents of her handbag.
‘What’s this?’ the man asked, his voice suggesting that—unlike his leader—he came from somewhere south of the Mason-Dixon line. Motioning towards the lightweight bathrobe, bikini and makeup box which the disguised redhead had tipped on to her lap, he went on, ‘Don’t you have any cash with you, blondie?’
‘I wasn’t counting on needing any,’ Alice replied. ‘I’m just a working girl, not one of the invi—!’
The explanation was brought to a halt by something which happened elsewhere!
Having seen Greta and Jodie going through a similar sequence of events to end a bout at another party, Marla had stood up ready to go and pretend to examine them when they were finished. Before she could do so, the intruders had arrived. Obeying Fannin, she had remained on her feet motionless instead of sitting down.
Walking up to the blonde, although she did nothing which could be construed as making a hostile gesture, the masked woman drove a knee into her groin with considerable speed, force and precision. A cry of anguish burst from her and, as she was doubling over with both hands clutching involuntarily at the point of impact, her assailant delivered an equally vicious punch to the side of her head.
‘Keep still!’ the largest of the intruders roared, as the blonde crashed flaccidly across the laps of two seated guests, his voice carrying over the angry exclamations which arose. Gesturing with the shotgun, he continued, ‘Kill every bastard who stirs, boys!’
From the way they reacted, the other two masked men were as surprised as the legitimate occupants of the lounge by the unprovoked attack upon Marla. Each glanced around and quickly backed away from the victims they were confronting. For all that, the response did not offer Alice and Houghton-Rand—who was carrying the short barreled Smith & Wesson Model 27 .357 Magnum revolver he had been loaned during the cougar hunt in a holster concealed beneath the rear of his cummerbund—the chance to take action against them. As they retreated, each kept his automatic in a position of readiness able to carry out the order given by their leader. Furthermore, regardless of an element of surprise, they and he were too widely separated for all three to be shot before at least one was able to retaliate.
Accepting there was nothing she could do at that moment, Alice did not move. Much to her relief, the Englishman had drawn the same conclusion and made no attempt to reach for his revolver. Nor, she saw with an equal relief, were any of the party showing signs of offering to intercede on behalf of the blonde. There had been little drinking before the bout commenced and even those of the male spectators whose sense of chivalry might otherwise have led them to defend her were sufficiently sober and intelligent to appreciate the potential danger of trying to avenge the attack upon her.
Prevented from doing anything more positive, the redhead devoted her attention to studying the intruders. While the ski masks ruled out any chance of making an identification from their features, she sought for pecularities of speech or movement which might serve the same purpose. She found the female member of the gang of particular interest.
Having told the guests upon whom Marla had fallen to put her on the floor, the woman crossed to the bar. Watching her, Alice noted that she moved with a much more sensual grace than her far from flattering build implied should be the case. Ignoring the two combatants, who cowered away from her, she began to stuff the money from the briefcase into the sack.
‘Don’t let this worry you,’ the woman said, her voice mumbled as if she suffered from an impediment to her speech and gave no clue as to her origins. She glanced at the almost naked pair close to her feet. ‘The agency will see you get paid.’
Working with a speed which suggested the affair had been well rehearsed, the woman and two men completed the circuit of the room. Nor were their activities restricted to collecting wallets, jewelry and the money from the bar. At the conclusion of this task, they took precautions against their activities being reported to the authorities for some time after their departure. One man ripped the telephone free from its wire, then entered the other rooms to repeat the damage on the extensions. While this was being done, taking out the hammer he had tucked into his waist band, the second of the criminals used it to render the bolts on the front door—which alone gave access to the passage—inoperative and smashed its lock.
‘All right, all ready!’ the man with the shotgun barked, after the other two had completed their tasks. ‘This’s how we play it from now on. We split the way we came in and you all stay put in here. Anybody who comes after us gets wasted. Do you dig?’
‘We understand!’ Fannin declared, his face white with anger although he was still contriving to keep his temper under control.
‘Just make god-damned good and sure you do, pops!’ the spokesman advised, as the rest of the gang filed past him into the bedroom. ‘Because, if you don’t, some of you’re going to die and the media’ll have a ball when they find out how all you big, important folks have been getting your jollies.’
Following his companions while delivering the warning, the man crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him. A moment after he had disappeared, everybody in the lounge with the exception of Marla and the two genuinely exhausted girls started to get up. With all apart from herself and her male companions starting to talk at once, Alice swiftly retrieved her property from beneath the cushions.
‘Be quiet everybody, please!’ the redhead shouted, exhibiting the open identification wallet she was holding between the thumb and lower three fingers of the hand grasping her Colt Cobra. Waiting until those occupants of the lounge who were capable of doing so were giving her their attention, she continued, ‘I’m Woman Deputy Alice Fayde of the Sheriff’s Office.’
‘And I’m what you might call her jolly old “Doctor Watson”,’ Houghton-Rand asserted, reaching around and beneath his dinner jacket to draw the Smith & Wesson revolver. ‘And, as such, I would strongly advise you to do as Alice says.’
‘Brad!’ called the redhead, clicking on the radio in her left hand and not troubling to use standard call procedure of code names with the situation being so urgent. ‘Brad! Do you read me?’
‘Loud and clear, Cinderella,’ replied the voice of the blond giant. ‘We’re in the basement garage.’
‘Then get set!’ Alice warned. ‘They’ve hit. Three men, one with a corn-sheller, and a woman. Probably on their way down.’
‘We’ll be waiting for them!’ Brad promised. ‘Is everything all right up there?’
‘One hurt, probably needing medical attention,’ Alice replied, glancing to where Marla was being examined by Mrs. Fannin and a man she knew to be a doctor of some eminence in the city. ‘I’m going to look around.’
‘Take care, you hear now!’ commanded the gruff tones of Deputy Sheriff Thomas Cord. ‘Your aunt’ll peel my hide if anything happens to you!’
‘I’ll keep it in mind, Uncle Tom!’ the redhead promised, but was not given an opportunity to say more.
‘The elevator’s on its way down!’ the voice of the blond giant cut in urgently. ‘Over and out!’