Slowly, Shelton brought his feet down off the desk. He realized he probably should keep his mouth shut, but he also knew the question had to be asked even if he got his head snapped off “Mrs. Akron… would you mind telling me just what you have in mind?”

She didn’t answer for so long a time that Shelton began to think she had left the line, then he heard her inhale and exhale loudly as if she had just reached a decision. “You’re entitled to know, I think. I’m planning a little surprise party for my husband. He’ll enjoy it so! I want him to come home to me… at midnight… after visiting his little tart, and I want him to walk in on a wild orgy. He’s a brilliant banker, but a small-minded, possessive, selfish, petty little bigot. He hates Negroes. And I want him to see his wife being made love to like the lowest harlot by a black man. I want him to be humiliated in public, with lots of people around to see him squirm. I want big very big enlargements in the hallway of me… and you… in bed together!”

The breath whistled out of Hansen’s constricted throat, “Jesus!”

“It is the only way I can ever repay him.”

The broad was nuts. She had to be. She’d slipped her trolley somewhere. This thing was getting crazier by the minute. Hansen knew he had to make some effort to change her mind… even if it were to cost him a thousand bucks. “Look, Mrs. Akron. I don’t know about this. How do you know these groups will respond to your invitation? I mean, hell! you’re a stranger; they aren’t acquainted with you. Most of them are secret organizations not easy to break into. Besides, I’m sure they won’t go along with any party you plan unless your husband participates, too.”

She brushed all his arguments aside. “They’ll come if the invitation is worded properly. I intend to see that it is an affair they will be eager to attend.”