Schultz

12

Police bells clanged around Belgravia that night. Folk who had fled in that dangerous direction, got soaked falling flat faced in the fish pond. Schultz knees cut crawling over crushed glass, slipped under a tent flap, and attempting to climb over a garden wall, was apprehended not only by a spike ripping his tuxedo in half but also by a Scotland Yard detective lurking in an alley. And frog marched back. Pricilla was staring daggers and dirks at Schultz.

“That’s right I came with her.”

“And that’s all you did. You got taught a lesson didn’t you. And if you ever try and touch me again the King’s bodyguards will kill you.”

The host Ambassador, all kindness, protocol and understanding had Schultz, for decency’s sake, wrapped in a damask table cloth and looking suitably and suddenly Arabic, he was conducted by a solicitous chargé d’affaires across to Four Arabesque just as Big Ben was booming two in the morning. Picking slivers of glass out of his knee and undressing for bed, he heard car doors slamming. With a painful head, aching stomach muscles, and sore ribs he stood in his pyjamas shaking a fist at the front window.

“Nobody, fucking nobody pushes Sigmund Franz Schultz around and gets away with it. That’s fucking gospel you cunts, believe me.”

Under umbrellas in the pouring rain His Royal Imperial Highness flanked by flunkies, went down the steps of the Ambassador’s house. Pricilla just behind him surrounded by military attachés. Ganged up on. That’s what I was. Look at that. That bitch. I even had to claim I came with her. Ratted on me the first opportunity she got. Doesn’t even give this house a glance. Heading in clothes I own to that first car in a caravan of limousines. Leave me in the lurch. Getting right in behind the King. Who’s going to fuck her ass now and worry about the Oriental Venereal Plague later.

Schultz this following windy wet day at one thirty p.m. in the office of Sperm Productions. Having dispatched a stage carpenter, scene designer and two assistants to Arabesque Street to effect repairs. Now reading the newspaper under Court and Social.

His Royal Imperial Majesty Field Marshal King Buggybooiamcheesetoo was guest of honour at a banquet given last night by His Excellency the Ambassador of Zumzimzamgazi.

Schultz’s bitten fingernail underlining the small print listing attending guests. Pricilla’s name first following members of the peerage. And his last, following everyone else. And before that night was over, Schultz had also seen descend from the Ambassador’s doorway, along with Her Imperial Highness the King’s sister, Pricilla’s mother. All two tons of her. Maybe three tons. If she got loose for any length of time among the food.

“Jesus the pair of them are a team of shameless bloody social climbers.”

Shiny wet under the lamp light, the stream of chauffeured cars came down the street one after another, stopped, people climbed in under umbrellas and the limousines pulled away towards Belgrave Square. Pricilla’s mother getting a vehicle all to herself which lowered considerably on its suspension. That was that. A nice little night of social relaxation. Taught one more lesson I already knew even in Woonsocket. That women go ga go over kings.

And further down the Court and Social page under Forthcoming Marriages, Schultz’s eye alighted upon a familiar title.

Earl of Eel Brook Common and Miss Violet Clutterbutterbucks.

The marriage has been arranged and the wedding will shortly take place between Basil, the eldest son of the late Lord Nectarine, eighteenth Earl of Eel Brook Common and Lady Nectarine and Violet youngest daughter of Admiral and Mrs. S.O.S. Clutterbutterbucks D.S.O. of Castle Cranockity, Moss of Barmuckity, Scotland.

“Ah Schultz early to work are you and as usual, taking up the seat of authority in the chairman’s chair. And also as usual looking the worse for wear. Upon how many au pairs did you perform your rite of simulated procreation last night.”

“Jesus christ Binky, did you see this. His Lordship is getting fucking well married. Right here in the paper. I knew he’d see sense at long last and fucking settle down.”

“Ah Schultz, trust you to use your own inimitable adjectives to describe what is for his Lordship and myself too, a sacred step in life. If you will, please just do cast your eyes further below in the same listing.”

Mr. Jeremy Balthazar Binky Sunningdale and Lady Jane Pricklygorse.

The engagement has been announced and the wedding will shortly take place between Jeremy, eldest son of S.U.N. Sunningdale Bt. and Lady Sunningdale and Lady Jane youngest daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Putney.

“Jesus, what are you guys, a fucking team or something. What are you doing this both at the same time for. Getting tied up like that.”

“Schultz I hardly think the word tied is appropriate. And did you not express your approval at his Royal Grace settling down. My little lady is quite a nice lady and his Amazing Grace and I are in fact planning to have a joint ceremony. With religious, gestative and social difficulties permitting of course.”

“Jesus Binky, you guys. You do nothing but try to treat yourselves to thrills in life.”

“Thrills. Good gracious me. Whatever do you mean Schultz.”

“The whole thing is like it was preordained. I mean to me, christ imagine going to bed with a girl wearing a tiara right at the top of the peerage and fucking the tonsils and titled tits off her. How did you do it, land a Duke’s daughter.”

“Ah Schultz you do have the most graphic if not charming way of putting things. Well of course marrying a Duke’s daughter does mean stepping up the ladder a wee bit but dash it all Schultz, I do possess a very modest little bit of social standing myself you know. And I did of course further flatter my way into the Duke and Duchess’s confidence by getting their daughter absolutely pregnant beyond retreat.”

“Then how about an investment from your future mother and father in law for the show.”

“Schultz you are aren’t you completely without shyness or scruples.”

“Come on, with all that’s happening to me these days, I got to fast reach that sacred moment when the show is financed, cast, the theatre booked and all that’s left is just the ratting, treachery, backbiting and insubordination of rehearsals. Then opening night. And Jesus then may the gross never grieve. And that’s one thing I know. That there is nothing, but nothing, more beautiful in this world than the money made out of the box office of a theatre.”

“Schultz, you are utterly endearing. Just what one needs for the spirit on such inclement days.”

“I am also an embattled fucker on plenty of fronts. Do you know let me tell you something Binky. When I first landed in this country I stayed at the Savoy Hotel because I wanted to be somewhere where the roof didn’t leak. Three weeks later I could just pay the bill and I was on the street broke with nowhere to go. Nobody wanted to know me. I mean shit, you English seize up like stone walls. I actually began to starve. I was actually hungry standing at a fucking window of a restaurant reading the menu and dying for something to eat.”

“O dear Schultz, O dear.”

“And you know what happened. A fucking whore came along.”

“How nice for you Schultz.”

“Well, let me tell you something, that girl fucking well saved my life.”

“Schultz let us just now suppose that his Royal Grace and I took the remaining half of your little show. Would you make you unbelievably happy. Following all your previous woe.”

“What are you kidding. I’d be fucking ecstatic.”

“And would you Schultz continue to use the company’s stage manager, scene designers and assistants to rebuild your house.”

“Hey come on, I had to do some emergency repairs. The guys are sitting around doing nothing.”

“How would you like it Schultz if his Royal Grace or I were to ship off a mob of production staff to one of his Royal Grace’s castles or my more modest little acres and put them hard at work in our pantries.”

“It ain’t the same thing for christ’s sake. I got to keep up appearances. Which happens to be fucking well falling down around my ears recently. With crummy English landlords suing me. Who go stay in Bermuda on the rent I’m paying them. And by the way. What’s that big book in his Lordship’s drawer with Nectarine Castle written on it. Full of lists of names under headings like household, gardens, park, farm. With stonemasons, laborers, carpenters, huntsmen, footmen, cooks, parlour maids, grooms. Holy shit, your Lordship, I didn’t see you come in, I was just asking Binky here.”

“Schultz I shall be terribly angry if you have been again in my office and snooping in my desk.”

“Hey I was looking for an eraser. But what is all that Do you keep all these fucking people employed, eating and drinking and sleeping in beds.”

“Schultz I’ll thank you to mind your own bloody business.”

“All I’m doing is just wondering. I counted thirty seven people. Hey is that for just one guy in one castle.”

“I’d appreciate Schultz if you would discontinue your wondering.”

“But hey congratulations your Lordship. You’re finally settling down. They’re going to be two of you now. In one castle.”

“I wish you would drop that subject Schultz.”

“Why, I’m interested. What do you do when you go there, count them all. I mean how do you know the staff are not fucking off all the time, talking to one another, doing no work, eating your food, when you’re not around while you’re at one of your other castles where they’re probably doing the same thing.”

“What a pity it is Schultz you aren’t saddled with these problems since you have them so well appreciated.”

“Sure why not. I wouldn’t mind.”

“Well that’s precisely what they are doing at my castles, fuck all.”

“So you admit you got castles in the plural. With all these retinue.”

“I admit nothing of the kind Schultz. Especially as I must rush this moment. Binky, hand me that catalogue. Must pop to Spink’s. They have a rather interesting attractively underpriced coin they’re offering.”

His Lordship gone. Binky as he sat back in the chairman’s chair, propping a leg up on his gout stool. Raindrops tapping the window. Schultz seated on the edge of the chaise longue, biting a thumbnail over which he twisted his head back and forth as he chewed.

“Schultz. Ah my dear Schultz. Despite your black eyes, despite your contusions, your scratches and your unforgiveable nosiness. One can’t help liking you. And in your own little way you are a sporting chap. So, as the raindrops fall outside and as this great city of London groans on in lust, I want you Schultz to put me down for, what is it, would it be a quarter, yes I think that’s the figure, a quarter, a full twenty five percentum of your little show plus the usual overcall.”

“Jesus christ almighty, you mean it Binky.”

“I have just said so.”

“Hey shit, this is my fucking lucky day. I’m three quarters financed.”

“And Schultz when his Royal Grace returns from his coin purchase I think you may find yourself one hundred per cent financed.”

“Binky I could kiss you, no shit.”

“Well Schultz, that would indeed be nice as soon as your doctor gives you your venereal clearance. But shouldn’t we also wait for the reviews. And then if those are not too dastardly, you may indeed kiss me. But no groping please.”

Schultz leaping up from the chaise longue, pivoting in a circle smacking his fist into the palm of his hand.

“Jesus, like magic, it’s all coming together. My show. This Debutant girl, a sure star. I got Magillacurdy, a genius. Top fucking Choreographer, Composers, Director. I got your weddings. We could have the whole fucking thing happening together. We’re going to really kill them. We could have you married on stage between the first and second acts. Nothing can go wrong. It would be an aristocratic sensation. Hey how the fuck did you meet these girls. None of them ever once come in the office.”

“Schultz no need to stop in your tracks to wonder why. The reason is not far to seek.”

“What because of me. I’m god’s gift to women for fucks sake. But Jesus you know what I’d really like in this life, is one of his Lordship’s fucking sisters. I could screw one of those marvellous creatures all the way to Mars. You know, Binky, seeing what it does for you guys, I need good breeding and manners in my life. To make my day to day existence sublime just like yours.”

“And you know Schultz what we have always admired about you. Your marvellous set of teeth. And your easy ready smile.”

“Here let me show you. Now how’s that. For an ad for toothpaste.”

“And Schultz I do believe I was asked to duly advise you of an invitation from his Royal Grace for a weekend’s hunting, shooting and fishing at one of his Lordship’s most favourite, and as you Americans are sometimes fond of putting it, little country cottages.”

“No shit.”

“No shit Schultz.”

“But christ I can’t hunt shoot or fish.”

“Ah you Americans, so dismally unprepared for life aren’t you.”

“We didn’t have a thousand years like you who while squeezing the last best drop out of subjects all over the world, had nothing else to do but hunt shoot and fish. But hey Jesus, this is no fucking trick is it, I can use an invitation like this. I really could.”

“That’s why his Royal Grace has extended one. We know how hard you have fought. Indeed looking at my watch, might you be ready Schultz to depart towards the countrywards by three o’clock.”

“Hey I’m not even packed. But you bet your ass I’ll be ready. I just got to go see if I can book a theatre.”

“Take my car Schultz. Just purring downstairs. I’ll ring down to Tobias. But don’t, please don’t put on board kidnapped passengers. Tobias will gladly ferry you to your appointment and back to your town house for your weekend sartorial knickknacks. And I shall await with his Royal Grace your return. Telling him meanwhile about this absolutely topping idea of yours of our being wed between acts of Kiss It Don’t Hold It It’s Too Hot. What could be more delightful for our prospective inlaws and their stuffy relatives. I’m sure that although at first they may be a little sceptical they will finally come to appreciate all the advantages of the marvellous publicity. Why we may even marry nude, what do you think.”

“Sure, why the fuck not. Hot diggity dog. I’m off Binky. This is the beginning of the greatest few days of my entire life.”

Schultz heading out the hall of Sperm Productions, passing Rebecca at her office door. Where she turned her back and her face away red eyed with tears. Schultz hitting his forehead with his palm as he descended in the lift. Holy shit that poor girl, she’s shattered that the guys are getting married. What the fuck is it with women anyway no matter what else, they all want to march up that aisle.

A gentle faced grey haired grey uniformed chauffeur saluting as he opened the pearl grey limousine door. Schultz bouncing on the soft upholstery, as the great motor purred left and right and right again. Up St. James’s. Turning along Piccadilly. Schultz picking up the phone. Asking Tobias to get him a number. Just as they were passing the Fortnum & Mason clock, with its bells jangling and Fortnum and Mason appearing out the clock door.

“Al.”

“Yeah.”

“This is Sigmund.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry about the fight. And ruining your clothes. But what the fuck do you want to go and sue me for Al.”

“Don’t talk to me. My lawyers are who you should talk to.”

“Al look, for christ sakes we were real friends before this bitch came along. But I mean if you want a legal fight I’ll fight you right up into and all over the House of Lords.”

“Hey tough guy you do that.”

“No shit Al come on. What a waste.”

“Pay the girl the damages.”

“Shit that bitch has already cost me a fucking fortune. I wouldn’t pay her the price of a free crap in a public toilet.”

“That’s the kind of sentiment I expect from you, you philanderer.”

“Philanderer, holy shit Al. You keep calling me that. What am I supposed to do fuck holes in walls. And do you know where that girl is right now. Do you.”

“No. You tell me. Where is she. And where are you.”

“She is right this fucking moment being fucked silly right up between her eyeballs by that big black bastard King Buggybooiamcheesetoo. And I am just passing Fortnum’s.”

“What are you talking about.”

“The King, Al.”

“What King.”

“Of Boohooland.”

“What are you trying to be real funny. Passing Fortnum’s. Boohooland. I am cheese too. Or do you need to see a psychiatrist soon.”

“Look Al in your newspaper. He’s all over it. The guy who’s been murdering everybody and chopping off ears and hands.”

“He should chop your prick off.”

“Jesus I knew the second those words were out of my mouth that that was exactly what you were going to say. No shit. You couldn’t resist it could you. You’re turning into some kind of geriatric mollycoddler of women for Christ’s sake. And you know what Al.”

“Yeah I got all day to listen to you, you tell me what.”

“She’s gone. She took off with him. With her mother. That jigaboo King is probably fucking the mother too.”

“You are the lowest form of racist creep.”

“Jesus now I’m a racist.”

“And a two bit phony bullshitter.”

“Yeah Al, I know, but you just listen.”

“Like hell I’ll listen. You listen.”

“No Al you listen a second god damn it. You want to hear what really happened. She told me she was giving me the gift of her body. And you know Al what she gave me. She gave me the clap. That’s what she gave me. I didn’t have it. I have doctor’s proof. I got it from her.”

“So now you smear the girl. You should have got strychnine. And she should sue you for slander.”

“Al there is no use talking to you is there. But I made this last desperate effort just because I happen to be feeling good to tell you drop the case.”

“Drop dead.”

“I’ll counterclaim Al.”

“Counterclaim.”

“Al it’s against my principles to pay up six hundred and forty nine pounds and ten shillings when it was me who was attacked. The fucking two of you attacked me.”

“Why don’t you dry up. People like you are a menace to society. And if you think I’m kidding about what I’m going to do to you, I’m giving my lawyers the details of what you just said as soon as you hang up.”

“Al, I ask you with my deepest sincerity to forget suing me. Because so help me god I’ll tear you limb from limb, legally or otherwise.”

“Threatening me with violence now.”

“Yeah, I am now. And for final and all time. Fuck you Al. Goodbye.”

Schultz with his whitened knuckles gripped hanging up the ivory phone and popping out of the pearly grey motor car. Looking at his watch. And running up the steps of this Victorian building. Impatiently going into a series of wrong doors.

“What the shit is wrong with this building, why do all these openings lead nowhere.”

Until Schultz found a narrow elegantly carpeted staircase heading upwards. Past posters of productions. The paraphernalia of hits. And into a large reception office. A sour smiling mousy faced girl looking up from her novel she’s reading as she nods and says parting words into the telephone.

“He’ll ring you the first chance he gets. Yes. Thank you. Yes. Good afternoon. Can I help you.”

“I have an appointment with Mr. Gayboy, my name is Schultz.”

“O yes Mr. Schultz. At two forty five.”

“It’s two forty seven right now.”

“I’m afraid that he’s busy at the moment. Do you mind waiting.”

“How long.”

“I’m afraid I can’t say. He does have his do not disturb auditioning light on, which often means Mr. Gayboy, when he’s suddenly busy like this, can be up to half an hour or more.”

“I just made this appointment. And come rushing over here. You mean to tell me he’s auditioning.”

“I’m sorry but I’m afraid that’s how it is sir.”

“Well you just get on that intercom there and tell your Mr. Gayboy that Sigmund Franz Schultz is out here waiting. And I want to see him.”

“I can’t do that sir.”

“You can’t do that. What the fuck are you here for. Like the angel Gabriel stationed at the gates of heaven.”

“I don’t think I will be spoken to in that manner.”

“You just have been spoken to in that manner. Well what are you going to do. You going to tell him I’m here. Or you going to keep me standing here like this.”

“You could sit down sir.”

“Like hell I will. I’m in a hurry. And I’m fucking well going in there.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Well you just try and stop me baby.”

“Sir come back.”

“No two bit son of a bitch theatre operator is going to keep me waiting like this.”

Schultz opening a door. Into a dark hall. And along another deep carpeted passage lined with theatrical posters. Rapping on a door marked with a prominent brass plate.

PRIVATE

Schultz pushing it open. Entering this large sombre room. Lined with books. More theatrical posters on the panelled walls. A fire glowing in the grate. Sketches and paintings of stage sets. And center room Mr. Gayboy standing, turning to look back over his shoulder. As he spoke to his young lady lying in front of him prostrate on her back across the large desk, her skirt up around her neck and her ample white thighs up over Mr. Gayboy’s shoulders.

“You stupid girl you left the door open.”

“Whoops excuse me folks I’m sorry. I’m Sigmund Schultz. I had an appointment.”

“Well can’t you see I’m busy.”

“Look, just a second of your time. I wouldn’t interrupt you like this if it wasn’t really urgent. I want to book the Regent. From the fifteenth. I got a smash hit lined up.”

“Please get out. If you don’t mind.”

“It only takes a second to say yes or no.”

“No. Now get out.”

“Hey you’re crazy. I’ll pay eleven weeks rent in advance. Right today. It’s a good deal for you. I’m telling you.”

“Very well. Leave your check for sixteen thousand five hundred pounds with my secretary outside. We’ll call your bank and I’ll have an Agreement prepared. You’re from that management.”

“Yes the one and only Sperm Productions.”

“I’d rather you’d go now if you don’t mind.”

“Sure. Pardon my intrusion. Have a good day.”

Schultz smiling at the secretary wide eyed aghast in the hall. And while slowly closing this door so prominently marked private, taking one more fast look at this scene. Of bare bottomed Mr. Gayboy in his striped shirt sleeves and dangling blazing crimson braces. His garters peeking over his trousers down around his ankles. And clearly several miles up the pleasantly chubby blond on his desk. In whom his grunting in and out attention was not once interrupted. Jesus just when everything’s suddenly going swell. Everything suddenly starts going even better. And I get one of the best theatres in this town.

Which

Not only

Groans but

Moans

With lust