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Gritti Palace, Venice Italia 10 December 1959

Dear PG – Aunt Charmian forwarded your letter to me here in Venice (Italy, not the beach). I arrived by the Laguna Express a fortnight ago. October is the best month in Venice. The German tourists have left, so you have the place almost to myself. Spent the evening at Harry’s Bar, then a delicious afternoon at the Bagni Alberoni, where Lord Byron (he’s a poet, Pussy) used to ride. Horses. My companion was a blonde from Vienna. What the French call a “ poule deluxe i.e a high-class whore. She called me a

“ gentleman pig “, which I thought would amuse you. ... The rest of this epistle can be found on Kindle sans the graphix!

Dec. 1, 1959

Dear James…

What a surprise to see you in the visitor’s area yesterday. I was stunned—not even coifed, walking into that cement hanger of a room with all the other dowdy girls in our ugly cotton dresses, not a flattering line on us. I’m surprised you didn’t get up and flee. The shock on your face was priceless though—the unflappable Bond drop jawed. I told you prison didn’t agree with me, just didn’t expect your old Pussy to be sporting a shiner, did ya? At least the other girl had two.

You very nearly outed me to the local population reaching under my dress like that. I suppose I very nearly outed myself slipping my fingers around your thigh. Quite a bulge in there, Handsome. ... Read the rest on Kindle or Mobibook!

30 October The Ko-Zee Motor Court, nr. Montreal

Dear PG – as you can see from the picture on the other side, I am in your neck of the woods. The maples are on fire, but my room must be about as small as yours, and as drab. It’s cheap, though; and has a certain understated American charm. You can park your car right in front of the door! Tomorrow, I have to drive down to a place called Echo Lake, over the border in Vermont. Little problem with an ex-Nazi, ... read the rest on Kindle

September 13, 1959 - Sing Sing, Ossining, NY

THE EARLY LETTERS HAVE BEEN DELETED SO THE ENTIRE EPISTLE MAY BE PUBLISHED. YOU CAN FIND US ON KINDLE AND MOBIBOOK Under the same title.

JB, Your letter arrived yesterday — weeks after you sent it. I guess the guards enjoyed it because it is spotted with coffee stains and worn around the edges by the matron’s rough hands rubbing it, I suppose.

When and if I get out? You want to swim with turtles while I’m in here with the sharks? Patience? Tied up? You are a cruel trickster. If only I had some silk stockings and a bedpost, I’d tie you up and show you a thing or two. We ruthless types are not that patient.

It gets tiring being tough. Do you find that? You put on this invincible personae like a suit of clothes. But who is under the surface? Crime, prison, secret service, neither really allows for change. When it is all over we are just empty suits, James, cold, calculating, heartless, guiltless, impatient for the next thing to come along, be it a woman, adventure or both.

I really can’t see you as a Calvinist. You seem more the hedonist. Do you see the irony that you felt guilty for your sexual whims and not your license to kill? You are a complicated and turbulent man, James. Perhaps that is why I am so attracted to you. You are more complex than any woman I have ever known and twice as spirited.

I await your next epistle from the real world, but try not to be too real in it. I can’t fathom talk of ten years in this place. I prefer to fantasize about how you are misbehaving, even if it is not with me, some form of entertainment other than watching the bull dykes jockey for position in the prison pecking order.

PG

PS Do you really think you’d pass my naked pale moon of a bottom, flutter kicking in front of you? No one ever has.

PPS The crane looks right up my alley.