Heller clickety-clacked across the drive at the Gracious Palms and trotted into the lobby. It was still afternoon, and in the hot off-season of late summer the place was deserted.

He was about to mount the steps to the second floor when one of the tuxedoed guards stepped into view and stopped him. “Wait a minute. You don’t have your room anymore, kid.”

Heller had stopped dead.

“The manager wants to see you,” said the hood. “He’s pretty upset.”

Heller turned to go to the manager’s office.

“No,” said the guard. “Get in here. He’s waiting for you.” He pushed Heller toward an elevator. They got in and the hood pushed the top floor button.

They got out into a padded, soundproofed hallway. The hood walked behind Heller, shoving him along with little pushes that made my screen jolt.

From an open door at the end of the long, long hall, the manager’s voice could now be heard. He was cursing at people in Italian. He sounded absolutely livid!

There were others in the room, throwing things about, rushing around.

The hood shoved Heller into the hubbub. “Here he is, boss.”

Vantagio Meretrici gave a cleaning woman a shove out of his way and came stamping up to Heller.

“You’re trying to get me in trouble!” he shouted. “You’re trying to cost me my job!” His hands, Italian-like, were flying about. He made a gesture across his own throat as though to cut it. “You could have cost me my life!”

He stopped to scream something in Italian at two cleaning women and they rushed into each other, one dropping a stack of sheets.

Italians. They are so excitable. So theatrical. I turned down my sound volume.

Sure enough, he came nearer and was louder!

“That was not a nice thing to do!” cried Vantagio. “To sneak in here like that!”

“If you could tell me what you think I did…” began Heller.

“I don’t think! I know!” cried Vantagio.

“If I did something…” Heller tried.

“Yes, you did something!” shouted Vantagio. “You let me put you in that old second-floor maid’s room! You didn’t say a word! She was absolutely livid! She practically burned out my phone!”

He put his hands on Heller’s shoulders and looked up at him. His voice was suddenly pleading. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a friend of Babe’s?”

Heller drew a long breath. “I actually didn’t know she owned this place. I do apologize.”

“Now, look, kid. In the future, speak up. Now, will this do?”

Heller looked around. It was a two-room suite. The huge living room had walls of black onyx tile adorned with paintings. The rug, wall to wall, was beige, covered with scatter rugs of expensive weave and patterns of gold. The furniture was light beige modern with seductive curves. The lamps were statues of golden girls completely naked. A garden balcony was outside and wide glass doors showed a view of the United Nations Building, its park and the river beyond.

Vantagio turned Heller in the other direction. There was a beige, leather-covered bar and gold shelves and scrollwork behind it. A barman was hastily emptying it of hard liquor and putting the bottles in cartons.

“I’m sorry, I can’t leave the liquor here. It would cost us our license, you being a minor. But,” he rushed on hastily, “we’ll fill the fridge with soft drinks of every kind you can imagine. And we’ll leave the jumbo glasses and you can fill them from the ice machine there. And we’ll put fresh milk here every day. And ice cream?” he pleaded.

Then Vantagio was showing Heller the various hidden closets and drawers around the bar. He stopped and came close to him. “Listen, I was only kidding about sandwiches. We don’t have a dining room because it’s all room service. But we got the fanciest chefs and kitchen in New York. You can order anything you like. You want anything now? Pheasant under glass?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He yelled into the bedroom and the cleaning people came hurrying out. He escorted Heller in, throwing his hands to indicate the place. “I hope this is all right,” he pleaded.

It was a vast bedroom. The entire ceiling was mirrors. The walls were all mirrors, set in black onyx edging. The enormous bed was circular. It occupied the center of the room. It was covered with a black silk spread that had gold hibiscus worked into it in patterns. There were red, low footstools all around the bed. The carpet was wall-to-wall scarlet.

There was an inset of sound speakers, quad, around which curled naked girls in a golden frieze. Vantagio rushed to the wall and showed Heller buttons and selections: Drinking Music, Sensual, Passionate, Frenzy, Cool Off.

Vantagio rushed Heller into the bathroom. It was rug-covered. It had a huge Roman bathtub, big enough for half a dozen people. It had separate massage showers. It had lots of cabinets with things to be explored. And it had a toilet and two bidets surrounded with various douche devices. Heller was looking at Automatic Hot Towel and pushed it. A steaming hot towel came out in his hand and he wiped his face.

Vantagio led him back to the sitting room. “Now, is it all right? This was the suite that was made up for the Secretary General, the old one, before he got assassinated. I know it’s a little plain but it’s more spacious. We almost never use it, so you won’t be moved around. It hasn’t been used for so long, we had to clean it up quick. The others are fancier but I thought, for a kid, this would be better for you. Do you think it will do?”

“Gods, yes,” said Heller.

Vantagio whistled with relief. Then he said, “Look, kid, all will be forgiven and we can be friends if you get on that phone and call Babe. She’s been waiting to hear all afternoon!”

Heller almost got run into by a houseman who was responding to a signal from Vantagio and rushing a cart with Heller’s baggage into the room.

He picked up the phone. The switchboard immediately connected him to Bayonne, evidently on a lease-line.

“This is me, Mrs. Corleone.”

“Oh, you dear boy. You dear, dear boy!”

“Vantagio told me to call and tell you that the new suite was okay, Mrs. Corleone. And it is.”

“Is it the Secretary General’s suite? The one with the original paintings of Polynesian girls on the walls?”

“Oh, yes, it’s quite beautiful. A lovely view.”

“Hold on a minute, dear. Someone is at the door.”

The sound of voices in the room, dimly heard through a covering palm. A sort of squeaking, “He what?” Then very rapid Italian, which was also too muffled to be heard clearly.

But then Babe was back on the line. “That was Bang-Bang! He just arrived here! I can’t BELIEVE it! Oh, you dear, dear, dear boy! Oh, you dear, dear, dear, dear boy! Thank you, thank you! I can’t discuss it on an open line. But, oh, you dear boy, THANK YOU!” The sound of a torrent of kisses being shot along the wire! Then a sudden roar, “Put that Vantagio back on!”

I suddenly figured it out. She had just learned of the destruction of two million dollars’ worth of her rival’s booze, etc., and the demise of Oozopopolis, her nemesis!

Vantagio had evidently not liked what he could hear from his end. He timidly took the phone. “…si… gia… si, Babe.” He looked a bit haggard. “…no… non… si… Grazie, mia capa!” He hung up.

He took the hot towel out of Heller’s hand and wiped his own face. “That was Babe.” Then he looked at Heller, “Kid, I don’t know what you did now but it must have been something! She said I could keep my job, but, kid, I don’t think I’ll really hear the last of putting you in a maid’s back room.” He braced up. “But she’s right. I wasn’t grateful enough and you did save the place and my life. I didn’t show respect. So, I apologize. All right, kid?”

They shook hands.

“Now,” said Vantagio, “about this other thing. This is the best suite we can offer you but she says you haven’t got a car. So, you’re to go out and buy any car you want. We have a basement garage, you know. And I told her you didn’t have many clothes. So, we have a great tailor and I’ll get him in and you’re to be measured up for a full wardrobe. Real tailored clothes of the best fabrics. Will that be all right?”