Harry and the Bikini Bandits by Basil Heatter - Chapter 32

1971 Genre: Vintage Sleaze / Casino Heist

A wildly erotic novel of intrigue, suspense, and adventure...

There's a lot to be said for my Uncle Harry. Mostly unprintable. All my life I'd heard about him, and from a distance he was a kind of legend. But the moment I signed on as one-man crew to his beat-up old bucket, Jezebel, I found my hero of the sea was really a pirate. Broads and booze kept him afloat between capers—and so far, his luck was holding...

But this new harebrained scheme—to heist the loot from an island gambling casino—was the daffiest—and most dangerous yet.

And there I was. Right in the middle. Up to my virginal ears in naked nymphs and Nitrous oxide—with nothing between me and the future but a leaky getaway and a pot of gold that was fast disappearing behind Harry's private rainbow.

CHAPTER 32

I couldn't believe it. I was sweating all over and covered with sand. I didn't care who saw me now. I scrambled back and forth like a terrier after a rat. Mounds of sand flew. Nothing. No plastic bag. No sign that it had ever been there. Was it possible that I had somehow made a mistake. But there was the palm and there was the tip of Jezebel's mast, and neither one had moved. And there was the coral rock shaped like a bullfrog. No doubt about it. No possible fucking doubt.

I sat down to think it through. So Harry had been playing a game with me after all. He had given me my share and then stolen it back. Watched me bury the money and then gone right behind me and dug it up. I began to shake with rage and nervousness. For the first time in my life I felt capable of murder. But murder was not the answer. I must think it through, find some way to outwit him, talk it over with Hester. Hester was smart and she did not have any emotional involvement with Harry. She would know what to do. In the meantime the best thing would be to play it cool.

I stood up. My knees felt weak. The whole area around the bullfrog rock was torn up. What did it matter now? Where was Hester anyway? She must be walking on the other side of the island. I thought of going to look for her, but it would take too long. Can't afford to turn my back on Harry. God knows what he is up to now.

I ran back along the beach to the lagoon. The skiff was still there, tied to its stake. It had occurred to me that while I was on the beach he might have stolen the skiff and been off. In a way it would have been justified. I mean after all it was what we were planning to do to him.

I waded out to the skiff, cranked up the Johnson, and plowed across to the ketch. Harry was sitting in the cockpit under the old tarp we had rigged as an awning.

He said, "Where's Hester?"

I shrugged. "We can do it without her." I did not recognize the sound of my own voice.

I thought he gave me a funny look. But anything he did then would seem funny. If he blew his nose I would figure he was reaching for a knife.

I looked at Burger's watch.

"We've got an hour to high tide," I said.

He grunted.

We sat there. There was so much mutual hate between us the air crackled with it. Like before a thunderstorm. Neither of us said a word. I think if we had we would have been at each other's throats.

Jezebel bounced. Twice.

"We'll try it now," I said. "You get ready to stuff everything you can find into that hole."

He nodded but said nothing. I took one of Jezebel's heavy mooring lines and tied one end to the anchor winch and the other to the stern of the skiff. Jezebel weighed ten tons and there would not be a prayer of pulling her straight off, but I thought if I could swing the bow a little the tide might do the rest. Why was I going through all this anyway? What did I care about his damn boat now? Hester had been right about him. My father had been right about him. I was the only blind idiot who had not really seen him for what he was.

I cranked up the engine and put a slow strain on the line. Nothing. I gave it more throttle. The engine began to cavitate and the bow of the skiff rose into the air. Still nothing. Jezebel seemed to give an inch or two and then stick again.

"Maybe it would be a good idea if you got up the sails," I yelled over to him. "If we could heel her over a little it might do the trick."

He nodded and began to hoist the mainsail. I saw the wind catch the sails. She heeled over an inch or two. She was coming off. I put a strain on the line to keep her from sailing backwards onto the reef.

"Get below," I yelled at him. "Plug that hole."

He vanished down the companionway. I shoved the throttle up and the bow of the ketch began to swing slowly in my direction. Then she was off and free. But sluggish. Would she make it across the channel before she sank? I gunned the engine. Hester stood on the beach waving. I waved back and felt easier. She could calm me down just by being there. Between us we would figure something out.

I kept the pressure on, all the time watching Jezebel's water line. She still seemed high in the water but of course a lot of that could be due to the fact that we had removed so much ballast. I kept her going. She had straightened out nicely now and the cross tide did not seem to affect her too much.

Most of the beach was rimmed with coral, but there was one small sandy spot about thirty feet wide that would make a bed for her. I had made up my mind to run her straight in there. Hester was waving encouragement at me. I shoved the throttle up and ran the skiff onto the beach with Jezebel right behind. I had been just a little bit afraid that when the skiff hit the beach Jezebel might crush us, but instead she just seemed to stop dead where she was when her keel hit the sandy bottom, and then sort of tilt a little to one side like a tired old horse. We had done better than I had expected, I mean we had gotten her further in, and now there was a good chance that when the tide dropped the hole in her bottom would be exposed enough for Harry to plug it.

He stuck his head up out of the hatchway and glared at me. His eyes were bloodshot and sweat was running off his forehead. He looked really crazy. Not one thank-you. To hell with him. To bloody hell with him. After tonight he can sit here with his rotten boat and rot on this rotten island. See how much good his lousy money does him then. But damn it all it will be my money too.

That was when I nearly blew it. Felt the anger boiling in my veins and could hardly restrain the impulse to grab him by the throat. Remembered the way he had clobbered that guy on top of the head. To hell with that. I I was on to his little tricks. Anyway I was four inches bigger in all directions and less than half his age. I could take him. I knew I could. But then what? I left him there and went charging off along the beach. I had done what I had told him I would do get Jezebel off the reef—and now if I never saw him again it would be too soon.

I found an isolated place along the beach and dove in. Beautiful sea-green shallows over white sand and waving coral fronds. Little fish like peppermint sticks. They came up and stared at me and I gave them back eyeball for eyeball. Then I lay on my back and just floated. After a while the anger began to wash out of my blood. I wasn't so sore anymore. Just a little sad. Sad that all of them had been so right about him, and I had been so wrong. I had really loved Harry. I mean I had thought of him as a marvel of cool. The world's last free soul. But in fact he had no cool at all. He was a cheap crook, and he lived by lying and cheating and stealing. Talk about a generation gap—how could you ever believe anything any of them ever told you? They would tell you anything, but it was what they did that mattered.

What Harry had done was beyond belief.

While all those worms were jumping around in my head something grabbed my hand and I jumped about eight feet thinking the barracudas had got me at last. But it was only Hester. She had come very quietly up beside me and now she put her arms around me and dragged me down. Her long blond hair floating like a cloud around us. Down onto the white sand. Our lips pressed together and her legs gripping my waist. Was she trying to drown us both? Who cared? Soft and warm, the water and Hester. But then we broke loose and fought our way up.

"Are you crazy?" I said.

"Yes. About you. Come on."

"Where?"

"Here. Right now."

She was pulling at my shorts. Practically tore them off. Couldn't wait. A whole new Hester. Wild. Ripping off her bikini panties and bra and kicking them away. She was white around the breasts and crotch and the rest of her was honey colored. Like some beautiful sandwich of vanilla and butterscotch. Floating around me. Twisting and turning. Took my face in her hands and pressed it between her breasts. Moving us over to the shallows. In no more than a foot of water now, warm in the shallows and warm on the powdery sand Hester on her stomach with her face on the beach and raising her smooth and beautifully rounded bottom and guiding me toward her and whispering "Oh my God oh I love you yes yes yes."