“A pornographic film actress,” Neal said. “You, too, Polly.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“A pornographic film actress!” Candy repeated, her eyes wide. “Neal, I don’t know if I can…”
“It’s just for the paperwork,” he assured her.
“But aren’t I a little old?”
“Ah, you’re only as old as you feel,” Polly said. “What’s my name?”
“Amber Flame.”
“Amber Flame?”
“Shut up.”
Neal started to haul baggage out of the back of the Laredo.
“Polly,” he said, “lose the sunglasses. People take a second look at someone wearing sunglasses indoors, and we don’t want second looks. We’re just going to walk in, get in an elevator, and walk to our rooms. Don’t try to be sneaky; don’t try to be inconspicuous. Questions?”
Polly asked, “Why can’t I be Desire and she can be Amber Flame?”
“Is her hair red?”
“It can be,” Polly said.
“It’s not going to be,” said Candy. “They’re naked in these shows, aren’t they?”
“No, they keep their shoes on,” Polly said.
“You’ve seen them!” Candy shrieked.
“Sure, haven’t you?”
“No!”
“Someone want to take a bag?” Neal asked. “Mrs. Heskins? Amber? Desire?”
“Where have you seen these movies?” Candy asked as she walked toward the elevator.
“If you really want to know, Jack used to have me rent the videos. He wouldn’t go himself because he was afraid he’d be recognized,” Polly answered.
“Weren’t you embarrassed?”
“Watching or renting?” Polly asked.
“Renting.”
“No.”
“Watching?” Candy asked.
“Uhhhh… no.”
Candy reverted to her talk-show voice, “Did you find them stimulating?”
Polly thought about it for a while.
“I liked the clothes,” she said.
This is wonderful, Neal thought. I’ve got a desk clerk who’s a big fan of movies that don’t exist, a skin- magazine mogul whose cash I’m using to hide the woman he’s paying to find, and the woman herself, who watches porn films for fashion tips.
“Desire and Amber Flame,” Karen said, enjoying herself immensely. “How can a simple mountain woman like me ever understand what goes on in the mind of the man who shares my bed?”
“I had to think of something on the spot,” Neal said.
“So they came from your unconscious. Interesting.”
“Shut up.”
“Do you have an actual plan or are you pretty much making this up as you go along?”
“I have a plan,” Neal answered.
Which I’m pretty much making up as I go along, he added to himself.
“She’s in a room under an assumed name,” Withers said.
“What room? What name?” Ron Scarpelli asked quickly. He sounded like an overcaffeinated chipmunk.
Withers watched three muscle-bound gladiators pass by. He waited for them to get way out of earshot. He would have waited for them to leave town if he could have gotten away with it, but Scarpelli was actually chewing on his gold chain.
“I have a call set up with my snitch,” he said. “She’ll have the room and the name.”
“Who’s the snitch?” asked Ron.
Withers looked at the charm dangling from the chain in Scarpelli’s mouth. It looked like a little spoon.
Withers answered, “I can’t reveal a source.”
“You can if you’re paying this source with my money.”
“What if you were captured?” Withers asked. “Then what?”
“Captured! What are you, drunk or something?”
“This is a virgin ambrosia,” he told him. “I’m undercover, you know.”
Ms. Haber rescued him by gliding onto the banquette and whispering urgently, “The buzz in the lobby is that Tommy Heskins is here with some kind of big deal. Everyone’s talking about it.”
“Who the fuck is Tommy Heskins?” Ron asked.
“The Swapper series, Ron?” Ms. Haber prompted. She hadn’t heard of the Swapper series until three minutes ago, but everyone was talking about it, and it was her job to keep current.
“Shit,” Ron answered. He’d never heard of Heskins or his Swapper movies, but he didn’t want to appear unhip in front of her. “He has juice.”
This confused Withers, who thought it was Bill who had the juice.
“Megajuice,” Ms. Haber agreed.
“And tomato juice,” Withers added, wanting to contribute.
“Walt, get on the phone to your snitch,” Ron ordered, remembering even in this moment of crisis to speak with authority. “We need the name and room now! And Haber, find out where Heskins is staying so we can keep an eye on him!”
Ms. Haber rushed off to charm a desk clerk.
Withers sat on the banquette to finish his drink.
“What are you waiting for?” Ron asked.
I’m not really sure, Withers thought, but I’m probably waiting for Gloria to stagger back into her apartment for a Saturday matinee in the company of some man she picked up in a bar.
The room had lava lamps, of course-big ones-and thick shiny red curtains and a red cover on a big round bed. The carpet was stone gray flecked with red and the wallpaper was black with red and gray splotches on it.
The bathroom was black, with a black sink, black sunken bathtub-Jacuzzi and black shower stall. The plumbing fixtures were fake gold.
“I think the theme suggests that impending death by molten lava is an aphrodisiac,” Karen said. “Does it do anything for you?
“No,” Neal answered.
“Me, neither.”
There was a knock on the adjoining wall.
“Come in!” Karen yelled.
“Our room is beautiful!” Polly warbled. “It’s just like yours!
Candy made a face behind her back.
“Okay,” Neal said, “here are the rules. Basically, you are prisoners here, ladies. You don’t answer the phone; you don’t answer the door. You don’t make any phone calls.”
He looked pointedly at Polly, who looked innocently back at him.
Neal continued: “All meals will be through room service. Karen or I will call them in and have them delivered to this room. When the maids clean your room, you will be in our room. When the maids clean our room, we will be with you. Any unexpected knocks on the door, you will repair to the bathroom. Any questions?”
“When do we get to gamble?” Polly asked.
“I don’t think I’m making myself clear,” Neal said. “You can’t leave these rooms.”
“For how long?” Polly asked.
“Forever,” Neal said. “You will be here until the day you die.”
Or until we’re caught, whichever comes first. In a town where they know who draws to eighteen down, in
