either,’ said Auntie Joanie. ‘Cracks
like that just aren’t called for.’
Uncle Wally said nothing. They flew on and finally Josephine spoke up.
‘Boys aren’t the only people with manhoods,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a sort of manhood too.
It’s not a very big one though. It’s called a–’
‘Shut up!’ Eva shouted. ‘We don’t want to hear. Do you hear me, Josephine? Nobody’s
interested.’
‘But Miss Sprockett said it was quite normal and some women prefer–’ A swift cuff from
Eva ended this exposition of Miss Sprockett’s opinion of the function of the clitoris
in one-to-one encounters between women. All the same it was clear that Uncle Wally was
still interested.
‘Gee, Miss Sprockett? That’s some name for a woman.’
‘She’s our biology teacher and she’s not like most women,’ Samantha told him. ‘She
believes in practising masturbation. She says it’s safer than having sex with men.’
This time there could be no doubting Wally’s shock or the aerodynamic effect of Eva’s
sudden attempt to reach Samantha and shut her up. As the plane lurched, Wally fought to
control it and wasn’t helped by the blow on the side of his head intended for Samantha who
had seen it coming and had ducked.
‘Shit!’ shouted Wally. ‘For Chrissake everyone sit still. You want to ditch this
kite?’
Even Auntie Joanie was alarmed. ‘Eva, do sit down!’ she yelled.
Eva sat back in her seat with a grim look on her face. Everything she had hoped to
prevent was beginning to happen. She sat looking lividly at Samantha and willed her to
go dumb at least temporarily. She was going to have to give the quads a good talking-to.
For the rest of the flight there was a grim silence in the aircraft and an hour later they
touched down at the little airfield at Wilma. The Immelmann Enterprises stretch limo in
red and gold was waiting for them. So, discreetly hidden in an unmarked car, were two men
from the Drug Enforcement Agency who watched as the Wilt children climbed out of the plane.
In the back sat a local cop.
‘You reckon?’
‘Could be. Sam said they were in the same row ‘longside the guy Sol Campito. Who’s the fat
guy?’
‘Hell, that’s Wally Immelmann. Runs the biggest plant in Wilma.’
‘Anything on him? Like he’s done time inside.’
‘On Wally? Hell no, he’s clean as you can be in his business,’ said the cop. ‘Solid
citizen. Pays his dues. Votes Republican and subscribes to everything he can. Backed
Herb Reich for Congress.’
‘So that makes him clean?’
‘I didn’t say he was clean as a hound’s tooth. Just that he’s a big wheel round these parts.
I don’t see him into drug running.’
‘Just another fucking good ole boy? That right?’ said the DEA man who was clearly not a
Southerner.
‘I guess so. I don’t mix in those circles. I mean, man, that’s money.’
‘And how’s his business doing right now?’
‘Same as everything in Wilma. Pretty average, I guess. I don’t know. He downsized last
year but the latest is he’s diversifying into things outside vacuum pumps.’
‘So he could be…Shit, look at the one with the obesity problem.’
‘That’s his wife, Mrs Immelmann,’ said the cop.
‘Yeah, well it would be, wouldn’t it? Who’s the other one needs liposuction?’
The second DEA man checked the file.
‘Name of Wilt, Mrs Eva Wilt, mother of the four pack, 45 Oakhurst Avenue, Ipford,
England. Want to put out a check call on her?’
‘They were in the same row with Sol. Could be he was the decoy. Yeah, call Atlanta and
they can decide.’
They watched as the limo drove off. After it had gone the local cop got out and drove down
to the Sheriff’s office.
‘What’s with those drug-busting shits?’ asked the Sheriff who resented Northerners
almost as much as he resented being bossed around by the Feds. ‘Come marching into Wilma
like they own the whole fucking