The Cold Six Thousand - James Ellroy [151]
Mr. Hoover knows it. BLUE knows it—so why tell CRUSADER that?
Need-to-know. Read-and-burn. Compartments. Sealed access. Love-and-hide.
He had Jane. Jane survived her Vegas trip. Jane never went back. They went back to their rules. They resealed their compartments. They hid in L.A.
They ignored their fight. They revived their game. He lied. She lied. They codified. Their code said we aired it. Their code said it hurt. Their code said we survived Dallas.
Jane knew he taped Bobby. Jane knew he bilked Howard Hughes. Jane knew the Boys. Jane knew the Life. Jane feared the Teamsters for real.
Compartments. Sealed access. Love-and-lie. The love worked. The lies hurt. The seal cracked.
He traveled. He sealed off Vegas. He compartmentalized. He met Barb. He joined her fan club. He sat ringside.
They were prom dates. Admiration and earnest chats. Chaste drinks and her show.
Pete rotated through—Vietnam to Vegas—they all socialized. Barb rotated with him. Her eyes went from pinholed to bright.
Pills. Her secret. Her Pete’s-gone-rotation delight.
All men loved her. He told Pete. Pete said he knew that. Barb grew. Barb changed while he watched her. Barb changed her ridiculous lounge act.
She put out more knock-knees. She put out more ad-libs and goofs. I’m six feet tall. I can’t sing. I know terrible things.
He loved her. He loved her more than Janice and Jane.
Janice was Vegas. Jane was L.A. He rotated through. Compartments: candor and lies/separate disclosures.
Janice spilled her secrets. Janice never lied. She bragged about sex. She proved her points. She flaunted her prowess.
She talked too much. She enticed men. She lived for the thrill. She thought she controlled men. Her stories disproved it. She confused prowess with heart.
She divorced Wayne Senior. She ditched his name. She went back to “Lukens.” She earned her two million. She paid with cramps. She paid with a limp.
She fought back. She played golf. She broke par as a gimp. She never cried. She never whined. She never complained.
They met at her cottage. They made love. They talked.
Janice talked. He listened.
She fucked a Negro man. Wayne Senior found out and killed him. She fucked Clark Kinman. Wayne Senior watched. She fucked bellboys on dares and bets.
She fucked Wayne Junior. She paid.
She talked too much. She drank too much. She limped through A-club tennis. She was pure will unconsidered. She was inimical to Jane.
Janice talked. Janice digressed. Janice discussed Wayne Senior. He was bad. He was cruel. He’d do ANYTHING.
Janice talked. Janice scared him. Wayne Senior was FATHER RABBIT.
69
(Las Vegas, Miami, Port Sulphur, Saigon,
Saravan, Dac To, Dak Sut, Muang Kao,
3/21–6/15/65)
Rotation:
East to west—V to V—Vietnam to Vegas.
He flew west—rotation 1—Barb met his plane. She sparkled. She beamed. She refuted that letter.
The letter bugged him. Jerky words and the lines “up & down.” He thought about pills—lounge-popcorn uppers and reds to come down.
No/nyet/nein. Noi in Viet. Barb radiated. Barb fucking glowed.
They glowed three years in. They glowed with crazy shit concurrent. Barb got better. Barb got stronger. Barb got X-ray eyes.
She saw through show people. She saw through the Life. The Life was rigged. The men took the risks. The men had the fun. The men conspired. The men served causes. The women served tea.
Barb said it: “I peaked early. I extorted JFK.” Barb said it: “You’ve got Cuba. I’ve got the Sultan’s Lounge.”
She didn’t nag him. She didn’t play shrew. She just said she’d changed.
They hashed it out. He sensed cabin fever. Vegas hemmed her in. He sold dope batch #1. He bought two tickets east.
They booked to Miami. They took the cat. They booked a suite at the Doral. The cat leveled it.
He clawed the drapes. He shit on chairs. He killed terrace birds. He bootjacked their room-service food.
They caught Dino. They caught Shecky Green. They got ringside seats. They slept late and made love.
They talked. He laid out Vietnam. He lied.