thunter.fearloathinglasvegas-第15部分

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k　all　around。　I'd　be　lucky　to　leave　town　alive。　A　ball　of　tar　and　feathers　dragged　onto　the　prison　bus　by　angry　natives。
　　This　was　it：　The　crisis。　1　raced　through　town　and　found　a　telephone　booth　on　the　northern　outskirts；　between　a　Sinclair　station　and。。。yes。。。the　Majestic　Diner。　I　placed　an　emergency　collect　call　to　my　attorney　in　Malibu。　He　answered　at　once。
　　〃They've　nailed　me！〃　I　shouted。　〃I'm　trapped　in　some　stinking　desert　crossroads　called　Baker。　I　don't　have　much　time。　The　fuckers　are　closing　in。〃
　　〃Who？〃　he　said。　〃You　sound　a　little　paranoid。〃
　　〃You　bastard！〃　I　screamed。　〃First　I　got　run　down　by　the　CHP；　then　that　kid　spotted　me！　I　need　a　lawyer　immediately！〃
　　〃What　are　you　doing　in　Baker？〃　he　said。　〃Didn't　you　get　my　telegram？〃
　　〃What？　Fuck　telegrams。　I'm　in　trouble。〃
　　〃You're　supposed　to　be　in　Vegas；〃　he　said。　〃We　have　a　suite　at　the　Flamingo。　I　was　just　about　to　leave　for　the　airport。。。
　　I　slumped　in　the　booth。　It　was　too　horrible。　Here　I　was　calling　my　attorney　in　a　moment　of　terrible　crisis　and　the　fool　was　deranged　on　drugs…a　goddamn　vegetable！　〃You　worthless　bastard；〃　I　groaned。　〃I'll　cripple　your　ass　for　this！　All　that　shit　in　the　car　is　yours！　You　understand　that？　When　I　finish　testifying　out　here；　you'll　be　disbarred！〃
　　〃You　brainless　scumbag！〃　he　shouted。　〃I　sent　you　a　telegram！　You're　supposed　to　be　covering　the　National　District　Attorneys'　Conference！　I　made　all　the　reservations。。。rented　a　white　Cadillac　convertible。。。the　whole　thing　is　arranged！　What　the　hell　are　you　doing　out　there　in　the　middle　the　fucking　desert？〃　Suddenly　I　remembered。　Yes。　The　telegram。　It　was　all　very　clear。　My　mind　became　calm。　I　saw　the　whole　thing　in　a　flash。　〃Never　mind；〃　I　said。　〃It's　all　a　big　joke。　I'm　actually　sitting　beside　the　pool　at　the　Flamingo。　I'm　talking　from　a　portable　phone。　Some　dwarf　brought　it　out　from　the　casino。　I　have　total　credit！　Can　you　grasp　that？〃　I　was　breathing　heavily；　feeling　crazy；　sweating　into　the　phone。
　　〃Don't　e　anywhere　near　this　place！〃　I　shouted。　〃Foreigners　aren't　wele　here。〃　I　hung　up　and　strolled　out　to　the　car。　Well；　I　thought。　This　is　how　the　world　works。　All　energy　flows　according　to　the　whims　of　the　Great　Magnet。　What　a　fool　I　was　to　defy　him。　He　knew。　He　knew　all　along。　It　was　He　who　sacked　me　in　Baker。　I　had　run　far　enough；　so　He　nailed　me。。。closing　off　all　my　escape　routes；　hassling　me　first　with　the　CHP　and　then　with　this　filthy　phantom　hitchhiker。。。plunging　me　into　fear　and　confusion。
　　Never　cross　the　Great　Magnet。　I　understood　this　now　。and　with　understanding　came　a　sense　of　almost　terminal　relief。　Yes；　I　would　go　back　to　Vegas。　Slip　the　Kid　and　confound　the　CHP　by　moving　East　again；　instead　of　West。　This　would　be　the　shrewdest　move　of　my　life。　Back　to　Vegas　and　sign　up　for　the　Drugs　and　Narcotics　conference；　me　and　a　thousand　pigs。　Why　not？　Move　coilfidently　into　their　midst。　Register　at　the　Flamingo　and　have　the　White　Caddy　sent　over　at　once。　Do　it　right；　remember　Horatio　Alger。　。。
　　I　looked　across　the　road　and　saw　a　huge　red　sign　that　said　BEER。　Wonderful。　I　left　the　Shark　by　the　phone　booth　and　reeled　across　the　highway　into　the　Hardware　Barn。　A　Jew　loomed　up　from　behind　a　pile　of　sprockets　and　asked　me　what　I　wanted。
　　〃Ballantine　Ale；〃　I　said　。　。。　a　very　mystic　long　shot；　unknown　between　Newark　and　San　Francisco。
　　He　served　it　up；　ice…cold。
　　I　relaxed。　Suddenly　everything　was　going　right；　I　wasfinally　getting　the　breaks。
　　The　bartender　approached　me　with　a　smile。　〃Where　yaheadin'；　young　man？〃
　　〃Las　Vegas；〃　I　said。
　　He　smiled。　〃A　great　town；　that　Vegas。　You'll　have　good　luck　there；　you're　the　type。〃
　　〃I　know；〃　I　said。　〃I'm　a　Triple　Scorpio。〃　He　seemed　pleased。　〃That's　a　fine　bination；〃　he　said。　〃You　can't　lose。〃　I　laughed。　〃Don't　worry；〃　I　said。　〃I'm　actually　the　districtattorney　from　Ignoto　county。　Just　another　good　American　like　yourself。〃　His　smile　disappeared。　Did　he　understand？　I　couldn't　be　sure。　But　that　hardly　mattered　now。　I　was　going　back　to　Vegas。　I　had　no　choice。
　　
　　　
　　　
　　　PART　TWO
　　
　　About　20　miles　east　of　Baker　I　stopped　to　check　the　drug　bag。　The　sun　was　hot　and　I　felt　like　killing　something。　Anything。　Even　a　big　lizard。　Drill　the　fucker。　I　got　my　attorney's　。357　Magnum　out　of　the　trunk　and　spun　the　cylinder。　It　was　loaded　all　the　way　around：　Long；　nasty　little　slugs…158　grains　with　a　fine　flat　trajectory　and　painted　aztec　gold　on　the　tips。　I　blew　the　horn　a　few　times；　hoping　to　call　up　an　iguana。　Get　the　buggers　moving。　They　were　out　there；　I　knew；　in　that　goddamn　sea　of　cactus…hunkered　down；　barely　breathing；　and　every　one　of　the　stinking　little　bastards　was　loaded　with　deadly　poison。
　　Three　fast　explosions　knocked　me　off　balance。　Three　deafening；　double…action　blasts　from　the　。357　in　my　right　hand。　Jesus！　Firing　at　nothing；　for　no　reason　at　all。　Bad　craziness。　I　tossed　the　gun　into　the　front　seat　of　the　Shark　and　stared　nervously　at　the　highway。　No　cars　either　way；　the　road　was　empty　for　two　or　three　miles　in　both　directions。Fine　luck。　It　would　not　do　to　be　found　in　the　desert　under　these　circumstances：　firing　wildly　into　the　cactus　from　a　car　full　of　drugs。　And　especially　not　now；　on　the　lam　from　the　Highway　Patrol。
　　Awkward　questions　would　arise：　〃Well　now；　Mister　。。　。　ah。。。Duke；　you　understand；　of　course；　that　it　is　illegal　to　dise　a　firearm　of　any　kind　while　standing　on　a　federal　way？〃　What？　Even　in　self…defense？　This　goddamn　gun　has　a　hair　trigger；　officer。　The　truth　is　I　only　meant　to　fire　once…just　to　scare　the　little　bastards。〃　A　heavy　stare；　then　speaking　very　slowly：　〃Are　you　saying；　Mister　Duke。。。that　you　were　attacked　out　here？〃
　　〃Well。。。no。。。not　literally　attacked；　officer；　but　seriously　menaced。　I　stopped　to　piss；　and　the　minute　I　stepped　out　of　the　car　these　filthy　little　bags　of　poison　were　all　around　me。　They　moved　like　greased　lightning！〃　Would　this　story　hold　up？
　　No。　They　would　place　me　under　arrest；　then　routinely　search　the　car…and　when　that　happened　all　kinds　of　savage　hell　would　break　loose。　They　would　never　believe　all　these　drugs　were　necessary　to　my　work；　that　in　truth　I　was　a　professional　journalist　on　my　way　to　Las　Vegas　to　cover　the　National　District　Attorneys'　Conference　on　Narcotics　and　Dangerous　Drugs。
　　〃Just　samples；　officer。　I　got　this　stuff　off　a　road　man　for　the　Neo…American　Church　back　in　Barstow。　He　started　acting　funny；　so　I　worked　him　over。〃　Would　they　buy　this？
　　No。　They　would　lock　me　in　some　hellhole　of　a　jail　and　beat　me　on　the　kidneys　with　big　branches…causing　me　to　piss　blood　for　years　to　e。
　　
　　Luckily；　nobody　bothered　me　while　I　ran　a　quick　inventory　on　the　kit…bag。　The　stash　was　a　hopeless　mess；　all　churned　together　and　half…crushed。　Some　of　the　mescaline　pellets　had　disintegrated　into　a　reddish…brown　powder；　but　I　counted　about　thirty…five　or　forty　still　intact。　My　attorney　had　eaten　all　the　reds；　but　there　was　quite　a　bit　of　speed　left。。。no　more　grass；　the　coke　bottle　was　empty；　one　acid　blotter；　a　nice　brown　lump　of　opium　hash　and　six　loose　amyls　。　。　。　Not　enough　for　anything　serious；　but　a　careful　rationing　of　the　mescaline　would　probably　get　us　through　the　four…day　Drug　Conference。
　　On　the　outskirts　of　Vegas　I　stopped　at　a　neighborhood　pharmacy　and　bought　two　quarts　of　Gold　tequila；　two　fifths　of　Chivas　Regal　and　a　pint　of　ether。　I　was　tempted　to　ask　for　some　amyls。　My　angina　pectoris　was　starting　to　act　up。　But　druggist　had　the　eyes　of　a　mean　Baptist　hysteric。　I　told　n　I　needed　the　ether　to　get　the　tape　off　my　legs；　but　by　that　time　he'd　already　rung　the　stuff　up　and　bagged　it。　He　didn't　give　a　fuck　about　ether。
　　I　wondered　what　he　would　say　if　I　asked　him　for　22　worth　Romilar　and　a　tank　of　nitrous　oxide。　Probably　he　would　sold　it　to　me。　Why　not？　Free　enterprise。。。。
　　Give　the　public　what　it　needs…especially　this　bad…sweaty；　nervous　talkin'　fella　with　tape　all　over　his　legs　and　this　terrible　cough；　along　with　angina　pectoris　and　these　godawful　Aneuristic　flashes　every　time　he　gets　in　the　sun。　I　mean　this　fella　was　in　bad　shape；　officer。　How　the　hell　was　I　to　know　he'd　walk　straight　out　to　his　car　and　start　abusing　those　drugs？
　　How　indeed？　I　lingered　a　moment　at　the　magazine　rack；　then　got　a　grip　on　myself　and　hurried　outside　to　the　car。　The　idea　of　going　pletely　crazy　on　laughing　gas　in　the　middle　of　a　DAs'　drug　conference　had　a　definite　warped　appeal。　But　not　on　the　first　day；　I　thought。　Save　that　for　later。　No　point　getting　busted　and　mitted　before　the　conference　even　starts。
　　I　stole　a　Review…Journal　from　a　rack　in　the　parking　lot；　but　I　threw　it　away　after　reading　a　story　on　page　one：
　　
　　SURGERY　UNCERTAIN　AFTER　EYES　REMOVED
　　
　　BALTIMORE　（UPI）…Doctors　said　Friday　they　were　uncertain　whether　surgery　would　succeed　in　restoring　the　eyesight　of　a　young　man　who　pulled　out　his　eyes　while　suffering　the　effects　of　a　drug　over（lose　in　a　jail　cell。　Charles　Innes；　Jr。；　25；　underwent　surgery　late　Thursday　at　Maryland　General　Hospital　but　doctors　said　it　be　weeks　before　they　could　determine　the　oute。　statement　issued　by　the　hospital　reported　that　Innes　uo　light　perception　in　either　eye　prior　to　surgery　and　the　possibility　he　will　ever　have　light　perception　is　extre