The Golden Gizmo

He wandered out to Los Angeles, hating the gizmo, determined to be rid of it. But the gizmo was stubborn. Wash dishes, drive a cab, peddle brushes?-don't be foolish, Toddmore. Use your head. You can always see a turn if you look for it… What about all these winos and bums? The town's full of 'em, and they'd sell you their right legs for a buck. They'd sell you their-blood! The big labs pay twenty-five a pint for blood. If you did the fronting, sold for fifteen and bought for five…

Toddy was in and out of the blood business fast. He stayed only long enough to get a roll. The scheme was entirely legal. For the first time in his life he was playing something strictly legit… and he couldn't take it. If it was legal to nourish the desire to drink with a man's own blood, then he'd go back to his own side of the fence.

He was resting on his roll, deliberating over his next move, when the gizmo shoved Elaine at him. He hadn't had a real roll or even time to take a deep breath since then. He couldn't make enough, no matter what he made, to do the thing that Milt, the gizmo having introduced them, persuaded him he should do. There was good money, legit money, in buying from dentists and other commercial users of gold.

Toddy couldn't have the dough and Elaine, too. Somehow, though he knew Milt was right in so advising him, he couldn't bring himself to boot her out on her tail.

…So, now, now the gizmo had led him into this house, into the money or. And he had a sneaking hunch that this was going to be something fantastic, even for the gizmo, in the way of ors.

3

For the size of the House, the affluence which it outwardly bespoke, it-this living room, at least-was badly, even poorly, furnished. The few chairs, the undersize divan, the table, all were of maple, the cheapest thing on the market. Except for a throw rug or two, the floor was bare.

Toddy looked at the table, where, as a matter of habit, he had placed his open box. He saw now that there was another box on it, a kind of oblong wooden tray. A set of tong-type calipers partly shielded the contents; but despite this and the deep gloom of the room, Toddy could see the outline of a heavy gold watch.

He had taken this in at a glance, his gaze barely wavering from the man. The guy was something to look at. He was the kind of guy you'd automatically keep your eyes on when he was around.

He had no chin. It was as though nose and eyes and a wide thin mouth had been carved out of his neck. Either a thick black wig or a mopline bowl of natural hair topped the neck.

He stared from Toddy to the card, then back again. He waited, a faint look of puzzlement on his white chinless face. He smiled, suddenly, and held the card out to Toddy.

'I can read nothing without my glasses,' he smiled, 'and, as usual, I seem to have misplaced them. You will explain your business please?'

Toddy retrieved the bit of pasteboard with a twinge of relief. There was something screwy here. It was just as well not to leave his or Milt's name behind him.

'Of course, sir,' he said. 'I-that dog of yours took my breath away for a moment. I didn't mean to just stand here, taking up your time.'

'I am sure of it.' The man nodded suavely. 'I am certain that you do not mean to do it now. Perhaps, now that you have recovered your breath, Mr.-?

'-Clinton,' Toddy lied. 'I'm with the California Precious Metals Company. You've probably seen our ads in the papers-world's largest buyers of scrap gold?'

'No. I have seen no such ads.'

'That's entirely understandable,' Toddy said. 'We've discontinued them lately-well, it must have been more than a year ago-in favor of the personal contact method. We-we-'

He stopped talking. He'd seen plenty of pretty girls in his time, many of them in a state which left nothing of their attributes to the imagination. But this… this was something else again… this girl who had come through the doorway to what was apparently the kitchen. She wore blue Levi's and a worn khaki shirt, and a scuffed pair of sandals encased her feet; and if she had on any make-up Toddy couldn't spot it. And, yet, despite those things, she was out of this world. She was mmmm- hmmmm and wow and man- oh-man!

Toddy stared at her. Eyes narrowing, the man spoke over his shoulder. 'Dolores,' he said. And as she came forward, he caught her by the bodice and pivoted her in front of Toddy.

'Very nice, eh?' His eyes pointed to her buttocks. 'A little full, perhaps, like the breasts, but should one quarrel with bounty? Is not the total effect pleasing? Could one accept less after the warm promise of the mouth, the generous eyes, the sable hair with-'

'Scum,' said the girl in almost unaccented English. 'Filth,' she added tonelessly. 'Carrion. Obscenity.'

'Vaya!' the man took a step toward her. 'Hija de perro! I shall teach you manners.' He turned back on Toddy, breathing heavily, eyes glinting. 'Now, Mr… Mr. Clinton, is it? I have allowed you to study my ward to the fullest. Perhaps you will confine your attention to me for a moment. You said you were sent to me by a friend?'

'Well, I'm not sure she was a friend exactly, but-'

'She?'

'A neighbor of yours. Right down the street here. I-'

'I know none of my neighbors nor are they acquainted with me.'

'I-well, it's this way,' said Toddy, and his gaze moved nervously from the man to the dog. The big black animal had been lying down. Now he had risen to stand protectively in front of the man, and there was a look about him which Toddy did not like at all.

'I buy gold,' said Toddy, flipping open the lid of his box. 'I-I-'

'Yes? And just what led you to believe I had any gold to sell?'

'Well, uh, nothing. I mean, a great many people do have and I just assumed that, uh, you might.'

The man stared at him unwinkingly, the dog and the man. The silence in the room became unbearable.

'L-look,' Toddy stammered. 'What's wrong, anyway? Like I say, I'm buying gold-' He picked up the watch on the table. 'Old, out- of-date stuff like this-'

That was all he had a chance to say. He was too startled by what followed to realize, or remember, that the watch was ten times heavier than it should have been.

Cursing, the man lurched forward and aimed a kick at Toddy.

Then the dog called Toddy an unpleasant name, the same name the man had called him.

'Cabrone!' it snapped. Bastard!

And then the dog howled insanely and leaped-at the man. For he had received the kick intended for Toddy and in a decidedly tender place.

The watch slid from Toddy's nerveless fingers. He slammed the lid of his box and dashed for the door.

In his last fleeting glimpse of the scene, the dog was stalking the man and the man was kicking and shouting at him. And in the doorway to the kitchen, the girl clutched herself and rocked with hysterical, uncontrollable laughter.

'I,' said Toddy, grimly, as he raced toward the Wilshire line bus, 'am going to call it a day.'

The box seemed unusually heavy, but he thought nothing of it. Late in the day, like this, it had the