When Diamond got back to his suite at the Ace of Diamonds, the message light on the phone was blinking. Mr. Evans had called, and Mr. Augie Dupin had phoned three times, the operator said. Dupin revised to leave a number and said he would call back.
Norris sounded worried when Diamond rang Evans’s office.
“Things are in a terrible state,” Norris said. “We’ve had six cases of food poisoning. Someone left the shrimp out. A truckload of linens was stolen. Two small fires were set. An elevator got stuck on the ninth floor for over an hour. With passengers in it. A half-dozen fistfights broke out.”
“How’s Tex taking it?”
“He’s locked in the screening room.”
“Who’s in charge of security?”
“No one. The staff is running wild. More people phoning in sick than ever before. We can’t take another day like this.”
“Listen Norris, I’m too close to Fifi to back off and tackle your staff problems. But if I find her tomorrow, I’ll see what I can do.”
‘I hope we’re still around,” Norris said.
They hung up, and Diamond got undressed. It had been another full day. His whole body ached from the beating he’d taken and the miles he searched but he forced himself to do fifteen minutes of exercises.
He was soaking in the hot tub when the phone rang.
“This is Augie Dupin. Who’s this?” the Professor said.
“This is Red. How are you?”
“How do I know it’s you?”
“Don’t you recognize my voice?”
“You could be an impersonator.”
It took a few minutes for Diamond to convince the Professor he was who he said he was.
“I’m being careful,” the Professor said.
“I appreciate that. Now what about your research?”
“There definitely is something going on with the lands,” the genius said.
“Is that with a capital L?”
“No. Lands as in terra firma, real estate, the ground.”
“What’s happening?”
“The first tip was an increased percentage of quit claim deeds indicating rapid transfer of property among artificial persons, to whit, corporations. The conveyances produced a number of instruments and piercing the corporate veil involved ascertaining—”
“It’s been a long hard day, Professor, and the last thing I need is you beating me over the head with mumbo jumbo. Can you say it so that a poor, dumb, tired dick can understand it?”
“Surely. Someone is buying up Las Vegas.”
“What?”
“Someone is buying up Las Vegas. Most notably the land along the so-called Strip. There are numerous straw men and dummy corporations, but indications are that at least thirty-five percent of the land from Tropicana Avenue to East Fremont is within their control. I might note their acquisition has included property north and south of those parameters. In the outer reaches they have acquired seventy-five percent of the property. Often solely mineral rights and not improvements. Repetition of certain company names or mailing addresses seems to indicate one person or a small group is involved.”
“Who is it?”
“I ran into a problem there. Liberian trusts. Panamanian holding companies. Delaware corporations funded through accounts in the Grand Cayman Islands.”
“Was there anything that struck you as unusual?”
“Well, there was something,” the Professor said. “On several of the papers I noted a Capetown attorney was involved. I took the liberty of calling South Africa. But he asserted the attorney-client privilege and I could go no further. He was very curious who I was.”
“Did you tell him?”
“I’ve learned my lesson. I identified myself as Stewart P. Hoover, prominent Los Angeles attorney.”
“Is that where you are?”
“Yes. Safely stowed away in the Sunny Motel. But I plan to change residences every other day.”
“Where are you calling from?”
“My room.”
“Next time use a pay phone,” Diamond said gently. “And if you call anyone else, don’t tell them what city you’re in.”
“You’re right, of course. There’s so much to learn, isn’t there? I’ll never get it right.”
“You’re doing fine. Keep up the good work. And be careful.”
“Red, you have my eternal gratitude for sharing the excitement of your lifestyle with me,” the Professor said, before hanging up.
Diamond turned on the heater in the room and dragged his weary body to the bed. He crawled under the covers naked. Sleep came easily.
Fifi was with him. He felt her at his feet, rubbing herself against his calves, then his thighs. She moved slowly, sensuously, sinuously, sliding up his skin.
Her touch was dry but her movements fluid. Like she hadn’t a joint in her body. He grew hard at her touch. Her tongue caressed his flesh, a fast-moving feather of pleasure. She moved higher. Along his ribs. Nestling in his armpit.
“…hhh baby, you know that tickles,” he said opening one eye a crack as he threw his arm over her.
But there was no Fifi under his arm. He was nose to nose with a snake. A snake that shook its tail at his embrace. A rattlesnake.
He froze, instantly awake as only a man inches away from death can be. His dream was gone, replaced by six feet of terror.
He locked eyes with the snake. The reptile stuck its tongue out at him. The soft flesh of Red’s underarm was exposed to the fangs. The arm that had cracked so many skulls felt like whipped jello.
He’d seen what snakes could do. There was that time with Jo Gar and Mallory, when Rocco had trapped them in the room with the hungry king cobras. The snakes had chosen Mallory as their first meal. They latched on with their fangs, giant leeches pumping poison instead of sucking blood.
Gar and Red had strangled the beasts as they clung to Mallory. But it had been too late for him. Mallory had died a horrible death. His screams haunted Red for months.
Red hadn’t blinked or breathed. His mind raced through his options. There were none. Red Diamond had met his maker. He wouldn’t cry out or empty his bladder. When a snake had your name on it—
Diamond fainted.
When he awoke the newborn sun was streaming into the room. A little past dawn. He shook his head and lifted the sheet gingerly. No snake!
Freudian symbolism. That’s what the court-appointed shrink would say. Phallic symbolism. Anything longer than it’s wide represented a dingus. And a snake. Wow.
He was caked with dried sweat. He took a hot shower and got dressed. It was warm in the room and he went to shut the heater.
He didn’t get to it. Curled near the grill and enjoying the warmth was a mottled gray-and-brown rattlesnake.
Diamond backpedaled to the phone and called the bell captain.
“I got a wildlife problem in my room,” he said.
“You got roaches? Til send housekeeping up.”
“Not roaches. A rattlesnake.”
“C’mon buddy. It’s too early to be pulling my leg.”
“This is Red Diamond in the Diamond Suite and I’m telling you there’s a rattlesnake in my room.”
“A lot of people, they have a few drinks, they see—”
“I’ll bet you a hundred bucks I’ve got a rattlesnake up here.”
“Be right up.”
Diamond waited outside his room. The bell captain sauntered over with visions of easy money in his brain.
“I’ll wait here,” Diamond said. “It’s over in the far corner. Near the heater. Watch your step.”
“Sure. You got that C-spot handy?”
Diamond nodded. The man casually walked in. Ten seconds later he came running out.
“Holy shit! There’s a snake in there.”
“Make sure the maid wears boots,” Diamond said, draping a Do NOT DISTURB sign over the doorknob.
The bell captain wiped his face with his hand. “I don’t believe it. All my life I live in this state and I never seen a damn rattler inside. Let alone in a penthouse suite. How’d that damn diamondback get up here?”
“What did you say?”
“How’d a damn diamondback get in your room?”
Diamondback! Gulo had struck.
“Just lucky I guess,” Diamond said, leaving the slack-jawed clerk as he hurried to meet his Fifi.
The hardboiled P.I. felt like a schoolboy on his first date as he parked the car near the Mexican lady’s house and waited. He chain-smoked on an empty stomach, adding to his giddiness.
It was 7:20 when he saw her in the distance, lifting her legs high as she ran toward him. He leaned against his car and tried to play it cool as she came closer.
She was wearing white shorts that bared sleek, tanned thighs. Her breasts bobbed under a loose T-shirt. Her blond hair was kept from her heart-shaped face by a red headband that was damp with sweat.
He stepped into her path and her baby blues appraised him. She moved to go around him and he put his arms out.
“Fifi!” he shouted joyously.
“Get out of my way or I’ll scream,” the woman said, jogging in place and breathing hard. “My name’s not Fifi. Leave me alone or I’ll call a cop.”
“Fifi, it’s Red. Don’t pretend you don’t know me.”
“You some kind of pervert? I’m warning you—”
‘I get it. Rocco’s boys might be watching,” Diamond said, glancing around cautiously. “You’re right to be careful. You’re some doll, Fifi.”
“My name’s not Fifi.” She continued to bob.
“I know you’re using the moniker Gayle Collins. I know Moe put the arm on you. But don’t worry.”
She stopped bouncing. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“No need for games. We’re safe. It’s Red, angel.”
She gave him a look that could have chilled the ardor of the most practiced pick-up artist. He was oblivious.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
“You. I love you.”
“You’re nuts.”
“Why don’t we go back to my room. I’ve got the Diamond Suite at the Ace of Diamonds.”
“You have that kind of bucks?”
“So that’s it. I know you don’t like me knocking around the P.I. racket. But things are different now. Look,” Diamond said, taking his wad of cash out.
She gazed at the fistful of hundred-dollar bills and the man with the fedora on his head and an ear-to-ear grin on his face.
“Just because you wave some money around you expect me to go back to your room with you?” she asked. “You don’t waste time, do you?”
“It’s dangerous out on the street. Why don’t we go for a cup of java?”
“Java?”
“Joe.”
“Joe?”
“Coffee.”
“Oh. I don’t artificially stimulate my body with caffeine,” she said.
“Huh?”
“But I know a place not too far from here that serves a nice herbal tea.”
“Great. We’ll take my car,” he said, reaching for her arm.
She pulled back. “Don’t get fresh. I’ve taken kung fu. My yin and yang are in harmony.”
“They always were,” he said with a wink.
She allowed him to open the door for her. She got in. He went around and settled into the driver’s seat.
“It’s five blocks up. The name is The Body Beautiful,” she said.
“Your body is beautiful.”
“Watch it, buster. I’ve heard all the lines. And yours are about as old as zoot suits.”
“Zoot suits. That reminds me of the time when that riot broke out by the Palladium. It turned out to be a cover for Rocco’s heist of the bank. You were caught in the middle until—”
“You’re weird,” she said. “Just drive.”
The Body Beautiful was all wood with plants in the window, on the floor, and hanging from the ceiling. Diamond felt like he was in the Amazon.
The customers and staff were worshippers of the human temple. They recognized Diamond as an atheist among true believers and dismissed him haughtily.
“I changed my mind,” his dream gal said. “Instead of tea, let’s get the deluxe special.”
“Whatever you want.”
When the waiter came he ignored Diamond and took the order from the woman. He returned with the special malted, setting it carefully before her and sloshing it down before Diamond.
“What’s in this?” Diamond asked her as he took a sip and made a face.
“Brewer’s yeast, two raw eggs, carob, Vitamin E oil, a bunch of things.”
“It tastes like medicine.”
“It’s better for you than medicine. It balances your yin and yang.”
“I don’t know what those are but it sounds like fun,” he said with a lascivious grin.
“You probably haven’t had a healthy meal in years,” she said.
“Hell no. I’m not one of those single guys who neglects himself. I start most days with a couple of scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausages. I have steak and potatoes a bunch of times a week. A thick, well-done steak. And a big potato with a lump of fresh butter.”
She looked at him like he’d confessed to child molesting.
“That’s disgusting. I don’t eat the flesh of dead animals. Especially those that have been pumped up with nitrates and burned. You probably take in enough cholesterol to kill a horse.”
“I don’t understand you,” he said, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette.
“Don’t smoke,” she ordered. The body is a sacred shrine that mustn’t be defiled like an old chimney.”
“And you think I’m weird,” Diamond muttered, stifling his urge for a smoke.
The woman slurped happily at her malted while Diamond made half-hearted stabs at his.
She was even more beautiful close up, her cheeks puffing in and out as she took in the fluid. Hers was a face that didn’t need makeup. A healthy red blush called attention to elegant cheekbones. Teeth that sparkled like a Pepsodent ad. Lips meant for kissing. Sparkling glims that cooly watched him.
‘Things are looking up, dollface. I’m working a big case. And I got a good client.”
“Who?”
“C’mon babe, you know that’s confidential.”
She stopped slurping and flicked her tongue out for a quick clean up job on her lips. She pouted. “If you don’t trust me, then maybe…”
“It’s not that.”
Then what is it?”
He hesitated. “Just between us,” he whispered. “It’s Edward Evans.”
“Tex?”
“That’s right.”
“He’s got more money than he knows what to do with,” she said.
“That’s the one. He’s hired me. It’s a tough job but I know I can do it.”
“I used to be in the show at his flagship casino.”
“I know. The Ace of Diamonds. That’s how I got your picture,” he said, showing her the by now dog-eared photo.
“I was in the chorus line. Never got a chance.”
“They didn’t recognize your talent.”
“It’s true. I can sing. I can dance. Ann-Margaret gets her own show. I have to shack up with Moe Greenberg.”
“Don’t talk that way, angel.”
“I didn’t do anything so bad,” she said defensively. “He takes care of me. So I fake an orgasm with him a couple times a week.”
Diamond looked around ashamed. “Jeez. Fifi. Don’t talk like that. What’ll people think?”
“I’m not the only one to do it. A girl’s got to survive.”
“I know. But you don’t got to go talking like a longshoreman. I bet you didn’t really want to. You had to, didn’t you? He made you,” Diamond said plaintively.
“It’s true. He made me. He didn’t hold a gun to my head but it was sort of like I had to.”
Diamond was tight-lipped with rage. “That rat bastard. He’ll pay for that.”
The P.I. was thinking murderous thoughts when a man came over to their table. He was five feet six and nearly as wide in the shoulders. He had arms the size of Diamond’s waist and veins that bulged like radiator hoses.
“Hey Gayle, remember me?” the man asked.
The woman looked up. “Sure. From the gym last week. On the Nautilus. Eddie.”
“Buzz off,” Diamond told the man. “We’re talking.”
The weight lifter ignored him. “Gayle, you want to ditch this wimp and go work out? They got a new machine, does wonders for your lats.”
“It’s okay, Eddie. Maybe later.”
“You’re sure this guy isn’t bothering you?” Eddie asked.
“If you’re not out of here by the time I count to three, you’re gonna regret it,” Diamond said.
“Oh yeah?” Eddie said. He laid a heavy hand on Diamond’s shoulder and squeezed. It wasn’t as bad as getting caught in a hydraulic press.
“Is that your best answer? ‘Oh yeah.’ You got anything between your ears besides muscle?” Diamond said, trying not to show the pain.
“Get up and say that.”
As Diamond got up, he grabbed the malted from the table and threw it in Eddie’s face. The P.I. followed up with two quick punches to the man’s washboard flat abdomen. They had no effect. Eddie was still wiping gunk off his face when Diamond caught him in the throat.
The weight lifter began to gag. He threw up something that looked a lot like the malted.
“C’mon doll. Let’s go. I can tell when we’re not wanted,” Diamond said, grabbing the woman’s arm.
Out on the street, Red smiled.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, still disoriented by the violence.
“I was thinking. That drink did turn out to be good for my health. You got to move fast. You never know when one of these deals turn out to be a setup by Rocco.” He kept his arm around her as they walked down the street.
“I don’t know,” she said hesitantly. “I used to go there every day. I can’t go back now.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you eat right. Filet mignon. Juicy pork chops smothered in sauce. Lamb chops tender enough to cut with a fork. Shrimp Newburg. Lobsters Rockefeller.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“You’re just excited at seeing me after so long.”
“Was it necessary to hit Eddie?”
“He had the look of one of Rocco’s boys. And he put his hands on me. Nobody puts their hands on me. Except you,” he said, giving her a tender squeeze.
“I think I better be going. This isn’t what—”
“Trust me, cupcake. We’ll go back to the Ace of Diamonds and unwind. I’ve got to talk to Tex.”
She was quiet for a moment. “You’re really on that good terms with him?”
“The best.”
“Could you get me back in the show?”
“No sweat.”
“A solo number?”
“Piece of cake.”
They got into his car. “The Diamond Suite?” she asked.
“We’re on our way.”
She slid close to him. “Lover boy, call me Fifi.”