CHAPTER 14
I always suspected that Las Vegas Airport was bigger than Las Vegas, but I'd never seen any hard stats on it. Hawk and I were carrying one shoulder bag each for our clothing and two suitcases each for Susan's clothing. Slot machines lined the concourse.
"You planning on changing clothes every hour?" Hawk said.
"You never know when I may meet Wayne Newton," Susan said.
"I have to be ready."
"Long as you don't have to carry it," Hawk said.
"Jewish American princesses do not carry luggage," Susan said.
"That's why there are goys."
"I wonder if we could pick up a couple of little red caps," I said.
Hawk shook his head.
"Don't issue them to white guys," he said.
At the limousine pickup area there was only one other party, a man and a woman. Susan studied them for a moment and then made a covert head gesture to Hawk and me.
"Wayne?" Hawk said.
"Shh. No. That's Robert Goulet," Susan whispered.
Hawk put down the suitcases.
"You need to change?" he said.
"No," Susan said.
"What I'm wearing is fine for Robert Goulet."
A slender light-skinned black man in a white suit came into the waiting area. He had short reddish hair. Inside the door, he took off his aviator sunglasses while his eyes adjusted.
Hawk said, "Lester."
"Hawk, my man," Lester said.
Hawk introduced us. We stayed with the air-conditioning while Lester hustled the luggage out to the car.
"Lester runs a specialty limo service," Hawk said.
"Hotels bring in some high rollers. Lester picks them up, drives them around, gets them dinner reservations, girls, or boys, or both, if they want. Makes sure they go to the casino that sponsored their trip."
"And he owes you a favor," I said.
Hawk shrugged.
"He got some time free," Hawk said.
"For pro bono work."
Lester came back in.
"Okay, folks, car's waiting."
We left Robert Goulet and his companion, and went through the brief band of desert heat outside the terminal and into an airconditioned white Lincoln.
"You folks want a little tour of Vegas on the way in?" Lester said.
"Lester," Hawk said.
"We ain't tourists."
"Sure. There's booze in the bar, you want."
"How do you know Hawk, Lester?" Susan said.
I smiled. I knew she wasn't making conversation. Susan actually wanted to know.
"Knew Hawk in Cuba," Lester said.
Susan looked at Hawk.
"Cuba?" she said.
Hawk shrugged. Behind us a maroon Buick Regal pulled away from a pickup zone and fell in behind us.
"What were you doing in Cuba, Lester?"
"Little of this, little of that," Lester said.
"Oh."
Susan turned to look at Hawk. The maroon Buick passed us on an open stretch. Usually when that happens the car keeps going and leaves you behind. The Regal pulled in two cars ahead of us and stayed there.
"And you?"
"Same thing," Hawk said.
We left the airport and headed north on Paradise Road. The Buick pulled off into the drive up at the Best Western. When we passed, it came out of the Best Western and fell in three cars behind us. There was no doubt that the Regal was following us.
Nothing is so conspicuous as the attempt to be inconspicuous.
The Regal stayed where it was the rest of the way. We drove down Las Vegas Boulevard, passing people in pink shorts and plastic hats walking past pirate coves and fake volcanos. A flaunting show of waterfalls and fountains danced in the middle of the desert as if they had not only defeated nature but wished to rub it in.
Lester turned in at The Mirage porte cochere and popped the trunk. The bell staff pounced on our luggage before we were out of the car. The Regal stayed on the strip, moving slowly with the traffic. Susan looked anxiously after the luggage as it disappeared through the bell door. I reached for my wallet as Lester opened the door for us, but Hawk shook his head.
"You got my beeper number," Lester said to Hawk.
"I be around."
Hawk nodded. Lester got back in the Lincoln and drove away.
The lobby of The Mirage was positively sylvan. There were jungle plants and waterfalls, and a small bridge over a stream.
Hawk said, "Wait here."
He went into the guest services office and in maybe two minutes he was back with three keys. We walked across the bridge and through the casino jiving with the implacable music of the slots, to a bank of elevators next to the in-house shopping mall. In front of our rooms on the fourth floor, Hawk handed Susan and me each a key.
"Case you get bored," Hawk said.
"Volcano erupts every fifteen minutes, until midnight. You can see it from your windows."
"The fun never lets up," I said.
"Round the clock," Hawk said.
"Got the room next door, you do something romantic try to keep the noise down."
"I don't know if I can promise that," Susan said.
Hawk laughed, which he does, as far as I can remember, only at Susan.
I unlocked the door and Susan went in.
"You make the Buick," Hawk said to me.
"Yeah."
"You got a thought who that might be?"
"I'm losing track," I said.
"You do that easy," Hawk said and unlocked the door to his room.
I followed Susan into mine. It was a one-bedroom suite. The ceilings were high. The walls were banked with windows, the decor was multicolored southwestern mixed with Catskills. The woodwork was dark. The living room was bigger than my apartment in Boston, with a bar, a huge walnut armoire concealing a television, two red couches, four blue armchairs, a large round dining room table finished in black, and six black dining room chairs. There was pottery and there were paintings and there was beige wall-to-wall carpeting. I went across the room and opened the curtains. The volcano was there as promised. Not, at the moment, erupting. But if I were patient… the doorbell rang, and Susan let the bellhop in with the luggage. He put the bags in the bedroom. I tipped him. He left.
Susan picked up a printed card off the bar.
"
"Dear V.I.P Guest,"
" she read. "
"Welcome to our V.I.P Level.
Please call the V.I.P office with any requests you may have. We are at your service twenty-four hours a day."
" "That's us," I said.
"V.I.P guests."
"On the V.I.P Level," Susan said.
"Is it because you are a famous detective?"
"No. Hawk knows somebody here that owes him something."
"Are we paying for this?"
"I don't think so."
Susan went into the bedroom. In a moment I heard her say, "Oh, oh."
I looked in. The bags were open on a black king-sized bed big enough for pony races, and the ceiling was mirrored.
"Oh? Oh?" I said.
"The mirrored ceiling," Susan said.
"I'll shut my eyes," I said.
"You'll pretend to," Susan said.
"You can watch too," I said.
"I'd rather go dancing with Howard Stern," Susan said.
"Oh come on," I said.
"It's not that bad to see."
"And I am desperately oversexed," Susan said.
"Yes you are."
"And it's probably better than watching the volcano," Susan said.
"Yes it is."
"So." Susan shrugged, her eyes gleaming.
"So?"
"So peekaboo," she said.
CHAPTER 15
Vegas is not a big town, but if you want to gamble there, they have lots of places to do it. All we had for a plan was to cruise the casinos until Anthony appeared.
"And if he doesn't appear?" Susan said.
I shrugged.
"Then we assume he's not here, and we look for him someplace else."
"Maybe he's in New York," Susan said, "hiding out at Bergdorf's."
We were at breakfast, sitting in a grotto of tropical vegetation, some of which was real, at the rim of the casino, soothed by the permanent harmonics of the slot machines which, when you're in Vegas, becomes like the music of the spheres.