Jacko, His Rise and Fall: The Social and Sexual History of Michael Jackson by Darwin Porter

bedroom early. But he slipped out of his room and walked down the street to
the entertainer's house.
    The young man who opened the door was the chauffeur, except this time
he was attired in forest green slacks with a white shirt open to his six-pack
waist. He introduced himself as Paul Richardson, and it is because of him, and
his later revelations, that the world knows what transpired that night.
    Emerging from the rear of the house was Liberace himself, wearing scarlet-colored lounging pajamas. To Michael, he extended a hand on which rested a large jewel-encrusted ring on each finger.
    Before his special guest arrived, Liberace insisted on taking young
Michael on a tour of the house. As he made his way toward the garden down
a long hallway, Liberace pointed out the pieces of value, including a desk he
claimed once adorned Versailles, the property of Louis XV. He also showed
Michael his sumptuous bedroom. "The bed belonged to Rudolph Valentino.
He was before your time. The great lover of the silent screen. Both of his wives were lesbians." Michael was impressed with the garden, particularly its
large piano-shaped pool.

    Back in the house, Michael had to go to the bathroom. Paul led the way.
After carefully locking the door, Michael took in the chandelier-lit room, the
walls covered with murals of naked men, some with excessively large genitalia.
    Michael waited alone in the living room. Paul stood nearby ready to take
the drink orders. Michael noticed the young man observing him closely. It was
fifteen minutes before Liberace appeared again. "I had to change into something more spectacular," he said. "I called my guest, and she's wearing red. I
decided to get rid of my own red and wear these champagne-colored lounging
pajamas. That way, I'll blend in." Michael couldn't help but notice that the
entire room was in champagne colors.
    Liberace pounced on the sofa next to Michael, and took the boy's hand.
"First, let me tell you that I love your music. You're gonna be a big star. Not
as big as me, darling. But real big."
    "Thank you, sir." Michael checked out the ruffled silk. "You look great!"
    "Thanks," Liberace said. "After Elvis came along, I have to appear more
outlandish than ever, topping him every time. Of course, my onstage outfits
are far more fabulous. I have a different outfit designed every month because
they tarnish so fast. I do, however, remove the diamond buttons from suit to
suit."
    "When I start having stage clothes designed
for me, I'll stick to sequins," Michael said.
"Right now Katherine buys for my brothers
and me off the rack."
    Liberace
    Liberace looked over at Paul and winked lasciviously. "A Scotch for me and a Shirley
Temple for Michael." When Paul came back,
Liberace was lamenting about how many
charity events he was asked to play at every
week. "The same will happen to you," he predicted to Michael. "Don't do any. Never... but
never associate yourself with some kind of
disease."
    Liberace had more advice. "Never take sides
in anything, especially politics. If you take
sides, you'll alienate large segments of your
audience. No one knows if I'm a Republican
or Democrat. Come to think of it, I don't know
that myself."

    "I'll remember that, sir."
    "Just call me Cuddles, dear boy."
    At that point the doorbell rang, and Paul went to answer it. Michael could
hear the sound of male voices, but only a lady was ushered into the living
room. He stared in awe as a bejeweled Mae West in a floor-length red gown
with a white sable coat pranced in. "Liberace invited me to come up and see
him sometime," West said, just assuming Michael knew who she was.
"Tonight I'm here to check out Liberace's gold organ." Liberace was at her
feet kissing a white-gloved hand. Taking note for the first time just how young
Michael was, she issued a command. "Kid, write down everything I say
tonight. When you grow up, read it. You'll understand it then."
    As West seated herself in a winged