Part 20 (1/2)
La Cote de Nightmare is what it is now.
See what I mean about rude shocks? The Strip, that's one rude shock.
Anyway, I'm on my way out there with Stick and Charlie One Ear followed in his car. Going anywhere with Stick is taking your life in your hands. He doesn't drive a car, he flies it. He can do anything in that Pontiac but a slow roll and I wouldn't challenge him on that. I ought to be getting combat pay.
Without boring you with details, Salvatore and Zapata made this St. Louis pimp named Mortimer Flitch and we went out to have a chat with him.
He was hanging out on the Strip and before I go any further with that, let me tell you about the Strip. The first thing I noticed when we got there, the hotels are almost identical triplets. Take the Breakers, for instance. The lobby is the size of the Dallas stadium. It would take about five minutes to turn it into a casino. I could almost hear the cards ruffling and the roulette b.a.l.l.s rattling and the gears cranking in the slot machines. When Raines pushed through the pari-mutuel law, he promised there would never be any casino gambling in Dunetown. Well, you can forget that, Cisco. They're ready. It's just a matter of time. I'll give them a year, two at the most. What we're looking at is Atlantic City, Junior. About fifteen minutes told me all I wanted to know about the Strip.
When we got there, the pimp, Mortimer, is sitting in a booth in the coffee shop looking like he just swallowed a 747. Salvatore is sitting across from him, kind of leaning over the table, grinning like he's running for mayor. One thing I left out: Salvatore carries a sawed-off pool cue in his shoulder holster. It's about eighteen inches long and it's always catching on things, which doesn't seem to bother him a bit. Zapata is standing by the door. That's their idea of backup.
When we arrived, Zapata split. He's on the prowl for Nance and Chevos. That makes me feel real fine, because if Chevos and Nance are within a hundred miles of here, Zapata will find them. I'll make book on it.
We join Salvatore and Mortimer at the table and then I see why this Mortimer Flitch has got that screwy look on his face. Salvatore has his pool cue between Mortimer's legs and every once in a while he gives the cue a little jerk and rings Mortimer's bells.
”Tell him what you told me there, Mort,” Salvatore says, and bong! he rings the bells and Mortimer starts singing like the fat lady in the opera.
”I got in a little trouble in Louisville about two months ago and- ”
Bong! ”Tell 'em what for,” says Salvatore.
”Beating up this chippie. She had it coming- ”
Bong! ”Forget the apologies,” says Salvatore.
”Anyway, the DA was all over me and- ”
Bong! ”Tell 'em why,” says Salvatore.
”It, uh, it-”
Bong!
”It was my fifth offense. Anyway, I give a call to a friend of mine, does a little street business in Cincy, and he says forget it out there, things are real hot, I should try calling Johnny O'Brian down here. So I did and he sends me the ticket.”
Mortimer stopped to catch his breath and Salvatore gave him another little shot.
”Tell 'em about the hotel and all,” he says.
”Look, O'Brian did me all right. I could get blitzed over this.”
Bong! ”Tell 'em about the f.u.c.kin' hotel, weed.”
”He gets me a suite here in the Breakers, gives me two G's, and says I got a couple of weeks to line up some ladies. It's a sixty-forty split. He gets the forty.”
Salvatore looked over at me and smiled.
”What else you want to know?”
”Did you bring any ladies with you?” I asked.
”Uh- ”
Bong!
”Yeah, yeah. Two.”
”That's the Mann Act,” I said.
”Look, could we maybe meet somewhere else if we're going to keep this up?” Mortimer pleaded. ”I could take a boxcar ride just talking to you guys.”
”How many pimps does...o...b..ian have working down here?” I asked.
Mortimer looks at Salvatore wild-eyed and says, ”Swear to G.o.d, I don't know. I got the hotel, that's all I know.”
”This is your territory exclusively?” Charlie One Ear asked, and Mortimer nodded vigorously.
”Okay,” I said. ”Finish your breakfast. We wanted information; we're not going to tell anybody about our chat. Don't screw up and leave town.”
He shakes his head. Salvatore pockets the cue, and we split.
”Can we use this?” Charlie One Ear asks on the way out.
”No,” I said, ”but it's nice to know.”
”Coercion, huh?”
”Yeah. ”
Now I know why Salvatore carries a pool cue. He calls it his sweet nutcracker.
See what I mean about due process, Cisco?
22.
DRIVE-IN.
Stick drove intelligently on the way back. Neither one of us had much to say. About halfway to town he wheeled into a drive-in and got us each a hamburger and a beer. He pulled around behind the place and parked under some palm trees in the parking lot and we opened the doors to let the breeze blow through.
”You okay?” he asked.
”Sure, why?”
”I figure maybe you got the blues.”
”How come?”