thunter.fearloathinglasvegas-第25部分

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　　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