Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas   ::   Thompson Hunter S.

But who was the Hero of this filthy drama? I turned away from the pool and confronted my attorney, now emerging from the bathroom andwiping his mouth with a towel. His eyes were glazed and limpid. "This goddamn mescaline," he muttered. "Why the fuck can't they make it a little less pure? Maybe mix it up with Rolaids, or something?"

"Othello used Dramamine," I said.

He nodded, hanging the towel around his neck as he reached out to flip on the TV set. "Yeah, I heard about those remedies. Your man Fatty Arbuckle used olive oil."

"Lucy called," I said.

"What?" He sagged visibly - like an animal taking a bullet. "I just got the message from the desk. She's at the Americana, room 1600… and she wants us to call."

He stared at me… and just then the phone rang.

I shrugged and picked it up. There was no point trying to hide. She had found us, and that was enough.

"Hello," I said.

It was the room clerk again.

"Mister Duke?"

"Yes."

"Hello, Mister Duke. I'm sorry we were cut off a moment ago…, but I thought I should call again, because I was won dering..

“What?" I sensed things closing down on us. This fucker was about to spring something on me. What had that crazy bitch aid to him? I tried to stay calm.

"We're watching the goddamn news!" I screamed. "What the fuck are you interrupting me for?"

Silence.

"What do you want? Where's the goddamn ice I ordered? Where's the booze? There's a war on, man! People are being killed!"

"Killed?" He almost whispered the word.

"In Vietnam!" I yelled. "On the goddamn television!"

"Oh… yes… yes," he said. "This terrible war. When will it end?"

"Tell me," I said quietly. "What do you want?"

"Of course," he said, snapping back to his desk-clerk tone. "I thought I should tell you… because I know you're here with the Police Convention… that the woman who left that message for you sounded very disturbed."

He hesitated, but I said nothing.

"I thought you should know this," he said finally.

"What did you say to her?" I asked.

"Nothing. Nothing at all, Mister Duke. I merely took the message." He paused.

"But it wasn't that easy, talking to that woman. She was… well… extremelynervous. I think she was crying."

"Crying?" My brain had locked up. I couldn't think. The drug was taking over. "Why was she crying?"

"Well… ah… she didn't say, Mister Duke. But since I knew the nature of your work I thought… "

"I know," I said quickly. "Look, you want to be gentle with that woman if sheever calls again. She's our case study.