JEH: Into the Hughes organization?
WJL: Yes, Sir.
JEH: Now, or in due time?
WJL: Now.
JEH: Expand your answers, Mr. Littell. I have a lunch date for the Millennium.
WJL: The work I have in mind is potentially risky, especially if the Justice Department should go proactive in Las Vegas.
JEH: I do not dictate Justice Department policy. The FBI is but one cog in a much larger system, as Prince Bobby has pointed out to me on several repugnant occasions.
WJL: Yes, Sir.
JEH: Tell me what you want, Mr. Littell.
WJL: I would like a provisional commitment. If the Mormons incur trouble, you could assess the situation and intercede on their behalf, or use their trouble to put Wayne Senior in your debt.
JEH: Do you want me to offer the Mormons covert protection?
WJL: No, Sir.
JEH: Will you inform Senior and the Mormons of the potential Federal risk?
WJL: The job description carries its own warning. I will not gild the lily beyond that.
JEH: And who will your co-opt strategy benefit?
WJL: Mr. Hughes and my Italian clients.
JEH: Feel free to proceed, then. And feel free to rely on my potential assistance.
WJL: Thank you, Sir.
JEH: Be sure that Mr. Hughes remains convincingly unaccountable.
WJL: Yes, Sir.
JEH: Good day, Mr. Littell.
WJL: Good day, Sir.
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."
48.
(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."
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."