On the night of Mr. Melvyn's murder, Sorry Al was waiting patiently by the phone. He'd already left two phonemessages for his new pimp, Helmut, but so far he hadn't called back.    While he was sitting there, he suddenly thought of a painting he'd seen the other day in a book at Helmut's place- it perfectly illustrated the inner torment he'd felt when he had been fired from hos job at the Boom Boom Bar for not being sexy enough. He wasn't sure, but he thought the painter's name was german-sounding.