按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
It was some time around three when we pulled into the parking lot of the North Vegas diner。 I was looking for a copy of the Los Angeles Times； for news of the outside world； but a quick glance at the newspaper racks amde a bad joke of that notion。 They don't need the Times in North Vegas。 No news is good news。
〃Fuck newspapers；〃 said my attorney。 〃What we need now is coffee。〃 I agreed； but I stole a copy of the Vegas Sun anyway。 It yesterday's edition； but I didn't care。 The idea of entering a coffee shop without a newspaper in my hands made me nervous。 There was always the Sports Section； get wired on baseball scores and pro…football rumors： 〃Bart Starr Beaten by Thugs in Chicago Tavern； Packers Seek Trade〃。。。〃Namath Quits Jets to be Governor of Alabama〃 。。。 and a speculative piece on page 46 about a rookie sensation Harrison Fire； out of Grambling： runs the hundred in nine flat； 344 pounds and still growing。
〃This man Fire has definite promise；〃 says the coach。 〃Yesterday； before practice； he destroyed a Greyhound Bus with bare hands； and last night he killed a subway。 He's a natural for color TV。 I'm not one to play favorites； but it looks like i'll have to make room for him。〃 Indeed。 There is always room on TV for a man who can beat people to jelly in nine flat。。。But not many of these gathered； on this night； in the North Star Coffee Lounge。 We had the place to ourselves…which proved to be fortunate； because we'd eaten two more pellets of mescaline on way over； and the effects were beginning to manifest。
My attorney was no longer vomiting； or even acting sick。 He ordered coffee with the authority of a man long accustmed to quick service。 The waitress had the appearance of a hooker who had finally found her place in life。 She was definitely in charge here； and she eyed us with obvious disapproval as we settled onto our stools。
I was'nt paying much attention。 The North Star Coffee Lounge seemed like a fairly safe haven from our storms。 There are some you go into…in this line of work…that you know will be heavy。 The details don't matter。 All you know； for sure； is that your brain starts humming with brutal vibes as you approach the front door。 Something wild and evil is about to happen； and it's going to involve you。
But there was nothing in the atmosphere of the North Star to put me on my guard。 The waitress was passively hostile； but I was accustomed to that。 She was a big woman。 Not fat； but large in every way； long sinewy arms and a brawler's jawbone。 A burned…out caricature of Jane Russell： big head of dark hair； face slashed with lipstick and a 48 Double…E chest that was probably spectacular about twenty years ago when she might have been a Mama for the Hell's Angels chapter in Berdoo。。。but now she was strapped up in a giant pink elastic brassiere that showed like a bandage through the sweaty white rayon of her uniform。
Probably she was married to somebody； but I didn't feel like speculating。 All I wanted from her； tonight； was a cup of black coffee and a 29 cent hamburger with pickles and onions。 No hassles； no talk…just a place to rest and re…group。 I wasn't even hungry。
My attorney had no newspaper or anything else to pel his attention。 So he focused； out of boredom； on the waitress。 She was taking our orders like a robot when he punched through her crust with a demand for 〃two glasses of ice water…with ice。〃 My attorney drank his in one long gulp； then asked for an other。 I noticed that the waitress seemed tense。
Fuck it； I thought。 I was reading the funnies。
About ten minutes later； when she brought the hamburg ers； I saw my attorney hand her a napkin with something printed on it。 He did it very casually； with no expression at all on his face。 But I knew； from the vibes； that our peace was about to be shattered。
〃What was that？〃 I asked him。
He shrugged； smiling vaguely at the waitress who was standing about ten feet away； at the end of the counter； keeping her back to us while she pondered the napkin。 Finally she turned and stared。。。then she stepped resolutely forward and tossed the napkin at my attorney。
〃What is this？〃 she snapped。
〃A napkin；〃 said my attorney。
There was a moment of nasty silence； then she began screaming： 〃Don't give me that bullshit！ I know what it is！ You goddamn fat pimp bastard！〃 My attorney picked up the napkin； looked at what he'd written； then dropped it back on the counter。 〃That's the name of a horse I used to own；〃 he said calmly。 〃What's wrong with you？〃
〃You sonofabitch！〃 she screamed。 〃I take a lot of shit in place； but I sure as hell don't have to take it off a spic pimp！〃 Jesus！ I thought。 What's happening？ I was watching the woman's hands； hoping she wouldn't pick up anything sharp and heavy。 I picked up the napkin and read what the bastard printed on it； in careful red letters： 〃Back Door Beauty？〃 The question mark was emphasized。
The woman was screaming again： 〃Pay your bill and get hell out！ You want me to call the cops？〃 I reached for my wallet； but my attorney was already on feet； never taking his eyes off the woman。。。then he reached under his shirt； not into his pocket； ing up suddenly with the Gerber Mini…Magnum； a nasty silver blade the the waitress seemed to understand instantly。
She froze： her eyes fixed wildly on the blade。 My attorney； watching her； moved about six feet down the aisle and the receiver off the hook of the pay phone。 He sliced it off； then brought the receiver back to his stool and sat down。
The waitress didn't move。 I was stupid with shock； not whether to run or start laughing。
〃How much is that lemon meringue pie？〃 my attorney's voice was casual； as if he had just wandered into and was debating what to order。
〃Thirty five cents！〃 the woman blurted。 Her eyes were turgid with fear but her brain was apparently functioning on some basic motor survival leveL My attorney laughed。 〃I mean the whole pie；〃 he said。
She moaned。
My attorney put a bill on the counter。 〃Let's say it's five dollars；〃 he said。 〃OK？〃 She nodded； still frozen； watching my attorney as he walked around the counter and got the pie out of the display case。 I prepared to leave。
The waitress was clearly in shock。 The sight of the blade； jerked out in the heat of an argument； had apparently triggered bad memories。 The glazed look in her eyes said her throat had been cut。 She was still in the grip of paralysis when we left。
9。 Breakdown on Paradice Blvd。
EDITOR'S NOTE： At this point in the chronology； Dr。 Duke appears to have broken down pletely； the original manuscript is so splintered that we were forced to seek out the original tape record ing and transcribe it verbatim。 We made no attempt to edit this section； and Dr。 Duke refused even to read it。 There was only one way to reach him。 The only address/contact we had； during this period； was a mobile phone unit somewhere on Highway 61…and all efforts to reach Duke at that number proved futile。 In the interests of journalistic purity； we are publishing the following section just as it came off the tape…one of many that Duke submitted for purposes of verification…along with manuscript。 According to the tape； this section follows an episode involving Duke； his attorney and a waitress at an all…diner in North Vegas。 The rationale for the following section appears to be based on a feeling…shared by both Duke and his attorney … that the American Dream would to be sought out somewhere far beyond the dreary confines District Attorneys' Confrrence on Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs。
The transcription begins somewhere on the Northeast out of Las Vegas…zooming along Paradise Road in the White Whale。。。
Att'y： Boulder City is to the right。 Is that a town？
Duke： Yeah Att'y： Let's go to Boulder City。
Duke： All right。 Let's get some coffee somewhere。。。
Att'y： Right up here； Terry's Taco Stand； USA。 I could go for a taco。 Five for a buck。
Duke： Sounds horrible。 I'd rather go somewhere where's there's one for 5O cents。
Att'y： No。。。this might be the last chance we get for tacos。
Duke：。。。 I need some coffee。
Att'y： I want tacos Duke： Five for a buck； that's like。。。five hamburgers for a buck。
Att'y： No。。。don't judge a taco by its price。
Duke： You think you might make a deal？
Att'y： I might。 There's a hamburger for 29 cents。 Tacos are 29 cents。 It's just a cheap place； that's all。
Duke： Go bargain with them。。
＇Only garbled sounds here。…Ed。＇ Att'y：。。。 Hello。
Waitress： May I help you？
Att'y： Yeah； you have tacos here？ Are they Mexican tacos or just regular tacos？ I mean； do you have chili in them and things like that？
Waitress： We have cheese and lettuce； and we have sauce； you know； put on them。
Att'y： I mean do you guarantee that they are authentic Mexican tacos？
Waitress：。。。I don't know。 Hey Lou； do we have authentic Mexican tacos？
Woman's voice from kitchen： What？
Waitress： Authentic Mexican tacos。
Lou： We have tacos。 I don't know how Mexican they are。
Att'y： Yeah； well； I just want to make sure I get what I'm paying for。 'Cause they're five for a dollar？ I'll take five of them。
Duke： Taco burger； what's