The cold six thousand

47

(Las Vegas, 7/14/64)

Golf bored him. Wayne Senior insisted-I'm playing the DI.

Littell stood by the drink stand. Littell dodged the heat. Vegas heat scalded. Vegas heat singed.

Some holes ran close. Littell watched the Tedrows play 8. Janice killed Wayne Senior. Janice parred and birdied. Janice drilled shots home.

She moved with grace. She flaunted her gray streak. She moved deft like Jane.

De Kalb scared him. De Kalb taught him:

_You_ welcomed Jane's lies. _You_ set up truth points within. _You_ rigged the lie game. _You_ have no redress.

She trashed his lie aesthetic. She trashed embellishment. She coopted memories. She furnished her past secondhand.

She lied. She embellished. She codified. He knew her solely through code. He couldn't brace her honestly-he'd exploited her skills. She taught him to embezzle. She helped him bilk Howard Hughes.

The Tedrows played 9. Janice birdied it. Wayne Senior shot bogey. Janice walked to 10. A caddy met her. Wayne Senior waved to Littell.

He drove his cart up. He brodied on grass. The cart awning made some nice shade.

Littell leaned in. Wayne Senior smiled.

"Do you play?"

"No. I've never enjoyed athletics."

"Golf is more of a business activity. Mr. Hughes could buy you less-"

"I want to co-opt three of your men. I can get them courier work now, and casino work when Mr. Hughes settles here."

Wayne Senior twirled his putter. "'Courier' sounds euphemistic. Are you describing a security operation?"

"Yes, in a sense. The men would fly Hughes charters to various cities."

"Out of McCarran?"

"I was hoping to run them out of Nellis."

"For added security?"

"Yes. You have friends at Nellis, and I'd be remiss if I didn't try to arrange it."

A caddy yelled "Fore!" A ball dinged the cart.

Wayne Senior flinched. "I've got friends in food service and defense purchasing. General Kinman and I are close."

"Would you call him a colleague?"

"Colleague and conduit, yes. He's told me that Vietnam is about to get hot, and he's one who should know."

Littell smiled. "I'm impressed."

Wayne Senior twirled the putter. "You should be. There's going to be a staged naval event next month, which will help LBJ to escalate the war. Mr. Hughes should know that I know people who know things like that."

Littell said, "He'll be impressed."

"He should be."

"Have you considered my off-"

"What will the couriers be transporting?"

"I can't tell you."

"My men will tell me."

"That would be their decision."

"We're talking about accountability, then."

The awning fluttered. Littell blinked. The sun hit his eyes.

"Your men will be paid 10% of the value of each courier shipment. You can work out your cut at your discretion."

Moe agreed to 15. He could pocket and tithe 5.

Wayne Senior squeezed a golf ball. Wayne Senior chewed on a tee.

_Skim_.

He _knows_ it. He won't _say_ it. He'll stay clean. He'll risk his men instead.

Janice walked down 11. Her gray streak swirled. She dropped a ball. She set up. She winged a shot. She hit the cart clean.

Littell flinched. Janice laughed and waved.

Wayne Senior said, "I'm interested."

(Las Vegas, 7/15/64)

The Deuce was dead.

The dealers yawned. The barman yawned. Stray dogs meandered through. They beat the heat. They scrounged cocktail nuts. They scrounged hugs and pets.

Wayne perched by the bar. Wayne nuzzled a Lab mix. The intercom kicked: "Wayne Tedrow. See the pit boss, please."

Wayne walked over. The Lab tagged along. The pit boss yawned. The Lab pissed on a spittoon.

"You remember that colored guy? Ten, twelve days ago?"

"I remember."

"Well, you should, 'cause you broke a whole lot of bones."

Wayne flexed his hands. "It was a deterrent."

"That's your version, but the NAACP says it was an unprovoked assault, and they allegedly got two witnesses."

"You're saying it's a lawsuit."

The pit boss yawned. "I got to let you go, Wayne. They're asking twenty grand from us and the same from you, and they're hinting they might file on you for some other shit you done."

"Cover yourself. I'll take care of my end."

o o o

Wayne Senior loved it. Wayne Senior riffed:

Pay it off-don't call Littell-he's on _their_ side.

The deck was hot. The air stung. Fireflies jumped.

Wayne Senior sipped rum. "You disarmed him _and_ knee-dropped him. I'm curious about your justification."

"I still think like a policeman. When he broke that bottle, he signaled his intent to hurt me."

Wayne Senior smiled. "You revealed yourself with that answer."

"You're saying I still need a rationale."

"I'm saying you've revised your basis for action. You err on the aggressive side now, which you-"

"Which I rarely did as a cop."

Wayne Senior twirled his stick. "I want to pay off your suit. Will you accept the favor?"

"You can't make me hate them like you do. Will you accept that?"

Wayne Senior flicked a wall switch. Cold air hissed out.

"Am I that predictable a father?"

"In some ways."

"Can you predict my next offer?"

"Sure. It's a job offer. It relates to your quasi-legal union or one of the fourteen casinos you own in violation of Nevada Gaming Commission law."

Cold air swirled. Bugs beat their wings. Bugs evacuated.

"It sounds like you've investigated me."

"I burned my file when I left the PD."

"Your file on your _fath_-"

"You used to run card cheats out of rival casinos. A guy named Boynton and a guy named Sol Durslag, who works for the Clark County Liquor Board. You've got some Nellis guy in your pocket. You're selling pilfered food and liquor to half the hotels on the Strip."

Wayne Senior stretched. "You anticipated my offer. I need someone to run shipments to the hotels."

Wayne counted fireflies. They jumped. They lit up. They fell.

"It's 'yes' to both offers. Don't let it go to your head."

o o o

The Rugburn Room:

A hipster hive. Six tables/one stage. A beatnik gestalt.

Milt Chargin employed a duo. They were Miles Davis acolytes. They played bongos and bass sax.

Milt drew a hip crowd. Femme dykes served beer. Sonny Liston showed and dredged some cheers up.

Sonny hugged Wayne. Sonny sat down. Sonny met Barb and Pete. Sonny hugged them. They hugged Sonny. Sonny sized Pete up.

They arm-wrestled. Hipsters bet. Pete won two out of three.

MiIt went on. Milt did Lenny Bruce shtick. Lawrence Welk auditions a junkie. Pat Nixon bangs Lester, the priapic shvoog.

The crowd laughed. The crowd toked maryjane. Sonny popped dexies. Pete and Barb declined.

Wayne popped three. Wayne got a hard-on. Wayne scoped Barb sidelong. Wayne grooved on her hair.

Milt did fresh stuff. Milt did "Fucko, the Kids' Show Clown." MiIt blew up condoms. Milt tied them off. Milt tossed them high.

The crowd went nuts.

They snared the condoms. They waved cigarettes. They popped them-ka-pow!

Milt did Fidel Castro. Fidel hits a fag bar. Jack Kennedy walks in. Fidel says, "Let's party, muchacho." Jack says, "I'll meet you at the Bay of Pigs, but you've got to shtup Bobby, too."

Pete howled. Barb howled. Wayne roared.

Milt did Sonny shtick.

Sonny kidnaps Cassius Clay. Sonny dumps him in Mississippi. The Klan holds him hostage. Martin Luther King goes down.

Marty wears whiteface. Marty digs being white. It's a bold apostasy. Fuck this negroid shit.

Marty calls God up. God puts J.C. on. J.C.'s a swinger. He's gigging with Judas and the Nail Drivin' Five.

Marty says to J.C., "Listen, daddy-o, I'm having a crisis of faith here, I'm doing this revisionist number. I'm starting to think the white man's got it dicked, he's got all the bread and the white women and the hi-fl shit, and if you can't beat 'em, assimilate and stop all this civil-rights shuckand-jive."

J.C. sighs. Marty waits. Marty waits a Iooooong time. Marty waits to hear his life's work affirmed.

J.C. pauses. J.C. laughs. J.C. spiels God's word on high: