Free American Sextet by Warren Adler Page A

that. It became more clinical than pornographic.
    "It felt good," she said. Knowing her reactions,
it was always an obvious conclusion. To her, it always felt good. As she
talked, staring at the recorder, obediently offering the mechanics of Arthur's
technique and reactions, she reached out to caress him, stopping finally when
she discovered no response.
    "It doesn't do what you said," she said, turning
away from the recorder.
    "It will when I replay it," he said.
    "Did he talk about his job?" he asked. Where he
worked?"
    "He said it wasn't far. A big southern mansion not
far."
    A good line, Jason thought. Meant to ridicule. He felt
better about what he was doing now. The bastard had played on her naiveté. He
was tempted to tell her what Arthur had meant but held off. She mistook his
long silence for disapproval.
    "You're not sorry?" she asked. "I did it
because you wanted me to."
    "I know, baby," he said, patting her shoulders.
    "He was very nice."
    "Yes, he's very nice. Did he ask to see you
again?"
    "Next week. I gave him the new number." He had
already hooked up an answering machine.
    "Should I?" she asked.
    "Of course."
    "As long as it will help you, Jason. I wouldn't do it
if you minded. I would never do it on my own."
    "I know that."
    He turned off the recorder and put it back in his pocket.
The apartment was beginning to stifle him. He took a five dollar bill from his
wallet and handed it to her.
    "Take a cab home tonight," he said abruptly.
"I'll be late. Another zoning meeting in Fairfax County."
    He had worked it out very carefully, both the rationale and
the plan. Simple justice was too tame for today's new world. Lasciviousness was
the bitch goddess now, a paradox since the sexual revolution was supposed to
have made a simple exercise of the genitalia uninteresting as news. The irony
was that a few years back when sex was merely a dirty little secret, reporters looked
the other way. Deviates could ply their persuasions without fear, provided they
didn't violate other norms.
    Now, he knew, the peccadillo brought to light could send up
a national leader like a Roman candle. People cluck-clucked and said it was too
bad, but an aggressive woman with a good body and a photogenic face could turn
a good buck out of sexually exploiting someone with even the remotest shred of
power. There was a hot market out there for that--books, serial rights, foreign
translations, photos in the flesh slicks, movies, television. A well placed
fuck could bring notoriety, fame. That kind of spectacle sold. It was
disgusting, Jason thought. America had become vulgarized.
    What was needed was one good overdose of it. Enough to
revolt even the most prurient. It would smash the taste for it in the public
mind. And it amazed him that he, Jason Martin, had stumbled upon the instrument
to do it. Dorothy. All that was needed now was a manipulative intelligence, the
right targets and the courage to act. The former was already in his possession,
the latter took a bit of research, and the guts to put the honeypot near the
flies.
    Money alone was not his motivation, he assured himself,
although an up-front investment was already straining his finances. He had
begun to fall behind on his payments to Jane for Trey's support. Decorating the
apartment had been expensive.
    As for Dorothy...
    She was the perfect weapon, an innocent with an uncanny
talent. She had easily transferred her dependency from Jim to himself. It was
almost too easy, Jason had thought. Yet he was comforted by the
knowledge that what he was doing would benefit her as well, at least in
monetary terms. Hadn't she once told him that money was also one of her goals?
    He had already calculated the split, giving her the lion's
share of all proceeds. Such gestures assuaged any pangs of guilt. The tapes
would be his principal documentation. Maybe he'd even take the chance on video
or, at the least, photo stills. He'd have to be extremely cautious. None of his
potential victims had reached