The Cold Six Thousand - James Ellroy [134]
They talked. They skirted it. They discussed prosaics. Jane was mad. He’d coaxed her to Vegas. He’d coaxed her for IT.
He said he had business. He kissed Jane and walked out. He heard Jane turn on the TV.
Littell killed the radio. Littell cruised by Tiger Kab. Littell perched across the street.
He parked. He watched the hut. He saw Barb B. There’s Barb in lounge garb—heels put her over six feet.
Milt Chargin ran shtick. Barb laughed. Barb palmed a package. Barb grabbed an outgoing cab. Tiger stripes—Miami West—all roads to Cuba.
Littell watched the hut. Drivers walked through—fey minions of tolerant Pete. Pete collected strays. Pete ignored their faults. Pete courted diversion. Pete said he clocked Betty’s visits. Pete said he clocked Betty gone.
Two hours tops—don’t kill what you can’t suppress.
Littell watched the hut. A cab pulled out. Littell tailed it. The cab drove west. Littell stuck close. They hit West LV.
The cab stopped—Monroe and “J”—two men got in. The cab pulled out. Littell stuck close. They hit Tonopah Highway.
The cab stopped. The men got out. The men hit the Moulin Rouge. The cab pulled out. Littell stuck close. They drove straight back to Tiger.
Memo to Pete: No pill sales/no inferred betrayal.
Littell yawned. Littell went queasy. He skipped his dinner. Jane cooked prime rib. She’d cooked all day. She’d watched TV concurrent.
He lied his dinner off. He walked out. He invented “business.”
Littell skimmed the radio. Littell caught Jack’s Greatest Hits: “Ask not” and “Ich bin.” The passed torch and more.
He killed the sound. He drove to the Sahara. The lounge was packed. He stood ringside. He caught Barb’s closer.
Barb sang “Sugar Shack.” Barb blew the crescendo. She saw him. She waved. She said, “Oops.”
She was bad. She knew it. She goofed on it. She played off it. She ragged her shelf life as a chick.
Men loved her. She goofed on her height. She played off it and went knock-kneed. She was a con. She played to the men who knew it.
The Bondsmen bowed. Barb jumped off stage. A heel jammed. She teetered. Littell caught her. He felt her pulse. He smelled her soap. He felt her perspiration.
They walked to the bar. They got a booth. Littell faced the TV.
Barb lit a cigarette. “Pete’s idea, right? Look in on me.”
“Partially.”
“Partially, how?”
“I’m killing time. I thought I’d kill it with you.”
Barb smiled. “I’m not complaining. I’ve got forty minutes.”
The TV blipped. Jack’s Greatest Hits revived. Paris with Jackie. Touch football games. Romps with his kids.
Barb looked over. Barb saw the TV. Barb looked straight back at Littell.
“You can’t run from it.”
Littell smiled. “Some of us try.”
“Do you think about it?”
“It comes and goes.”
“I’m all right until something reminds me. Then it gets scary.”
Littell checked the screen. Jack and Bobby laughed. A waitress showed. Barb shooed her off.
“Pete never talks about it.”
“We’re useful. He knows it comes down to that.”
Barb chained cigarettes. “Wayne knows. I figured it out.”
“Did you brace him?”
“No, I just put it together.”
Littell smiled. “He’s in love with you.”
Barb smiled. “In a tolerable way.”
“We’re useful. Tell yourself that the next time something reminds you.”
Barb stubbed her cigarette. Barb burned her hand. She flinched and cradled it. She said, “Shit.”
Littell checked her eyes. Littell saw pinholes—nerves off amphetamines.
Barb lit a cigarette. Littell checked the TV. Jack laughed. Jack worked That Old Jack Magic.
Barb said, “Jane knows.”
Littell flinched. “You’ve never met her. And Pete wouldn’t have—”
“He didn’t. I heard you two being oblique and put it together.”
Littell shook his head. “She’s back at the hotel. She’s teething on it right now.”
“Do you talk about it?”
“We talk around it.”
“Is she scared?”
“Yes, because she knows who did it, and there’s no way she can be useful.”
Barb smiled. Barb wrote “useful” in the air.
“I got a letter from Pete. He said it’s going well.”
“Do you know what he’s doing there?”