The Cold Six Thousand - James Ellroy [60]
A cab pulled out. Wayne tailed it. Rolling tails revived him. Night tails were cake. Cab tails double so—their roof lights stood out plain.
Wayne sidled close. The cab hauled out Owens. They passed the Paiute graveyard. They hit West LV.
Traffic was brisk. A car cut the cab off. Wayne swerved and hopped lanes. It was windy. It was cold. Tumbleweeds blew stray.
They passed Owens and “H.” The bars rocked. The liquor stores rolled. Bottle hounds and out-the-door biz.
There—the cab’s braking—upside the Cozy Nook.
The cab stopped. The cab idled. The driver tapped the horn. Wayne idled back. Wayne saw four Negroes walk out.
They saw the cab. They ran up. They flashed money. The driver dispensed packets. The Negroes paid cash. The Negroes unwrapped benny rolls.
They raised flasks. They popped pills. They did dance steps. They shucked and rehit the Nook.
The cab pulled out. Wayne tailed it. The cab hit Lake Mead and “D.” There—the cab’s braking—upside the Wild Goose.
A curb line stood ready—six Negroes—all with that hophead look. The cab stopped. The driver sold bennies. The Negroes shucked and rehit the Goose.
The cab pulled out. Wayne tailed it. The cab hit the Gerson Park Flats. A man got in. The cab pulled out. Wayne tailed it near-close.
There—the cab’s braking—upside Jackson and “E.” The driver parked. The driver got out. The driver swished into Skip’s Lounge.
The driver wore rouge. The driver wore eye shadow. The driver vibed femme fatale. The driver stayed inside. Wayne clocked his visit: 6.4 minutes flat.
The driver swished out. The driver swished and swung sacks. Said driver lugged coin sacks. Said driver fumbled them. Said driver tossed them in the trunk.
Call it: Backroom slots—illegal—Monarch Cab–run.
The cab pulled out. The cab hung a U-ey. Wayne tailed it close-close. There—the cab’s braking—upside the Evergreen Project.
The passenger got out. The cab turned north. The headlights strafed parked cars.
There—one parked Cadillac/one white face ducked low. Fuck—it’s Pete Bondurant—hunkered down low.
Wayne caught a teaser shot—that and splitsville—poof and adieu.
Wayne tailed the cab. The image stuck—Pete at the wheel. Darktown Pete—say what?—what we gots here?
The cab hauled back to Monarch. Wayne tailed it un-close. Wayne parked in his standard tail spot.
He yawned. He stretched. He pissed in his can. Time dragged. Time crawled. Time meandered.
Wayne watched the window.
Eldon Peavy shagged calls. Eldon Peavy popped pills. Eldon Peavy dealt solitaire.
Drivers clocked in. Drivers lounged. Drivers clocked out. They played cards. They rolled dice. They primped.
Time slogged. Wayne yawned. Wayne stretched. Wayne picked his nose.
A limo pulled up. Whitewalls and fender skirts/mock-leather top. Wayne clocked it: 2:03 a.m.
Peavy walked out. Peavy jumped in the limo. The limo booked south. Wayne tailed it. They hit the Strip. They stopped at the Dunes.
The limo idled doorway-close. Wayne idled three cars back. Three fags walked up. Dig their muscles and teased hair. They vibe chorus-line gash.
They scoped out the limo. They swooned and hopped in. The limo pulled out.
Wayne tailed it. They hit McCarran Field. The limo parked by the gate fence. Wayne parked four cars back.
Peavy got out. Peavy walked. Wayne had a view.
Peavy strolls. Peavy hits the main gate. A flight lands. Tourists get off.
Wayne watched. Wayne yawned. Wayne stretched. Peavy walked back. Two men walked with him. Two men walked close.
Wayne rubbed his eyes. Wayne did a double take. Fuck—it’s Rock Hudson and Sal Mineo.
Peavy grins. Peavy snaps a popper. Rock and Sal snort. They grin. They giggle exultant. They get in the limo. Peavy assists them. Peavy grabs their ass cheeks and hoists.
The limo pulled out. Wayne tailed it. Wayne got tailpipe-close. A window furled down. He saw smoke. He smelled maryjane.
They hit North LV. They hit the Golden Cavern Hotel. The cuties pile out. Rock and Sal weave.
Lynette torched for Big Rock—she