‘On ya right, The Flamingo,’ said Ernie Cureo as they passed a low-lying modernistic hotel with a huge tower of neon, now dead, outside it. ‘Bugsy Siegel built that back in 1946. He came over to Vegas from the coast one day and took a look round. Had a lot of hot money looking for investment. Vegas was goin’ great guns. Town wide open. Gambling. Legalized cat-shops. Nice set-up. It didn’t take long for Bugsy to catch on. He saw the possibilities.’
Bond laughed at the pregnant phrase.
‘Yes, Sir,’ continued the driver, ‘Bugsy saw the possibilities and moved right in. Stayed with it until 1947 when they blew some of his head off with so many bullets the cops never got around to finding them all. Then here’s The Sands. Plenty of hot money behind that one. Don’t rightly know whose. Built a couple of years ago. Front guy’s a nice feller name of Jack Intratter. Used to be at the Copa in New York. Mebbe you heard of him?’
‘Afraid not,’ said Bond.
‘Well then, here’s The Desert Inn. Wilbur Clark’s place. But the money came from the old Cleveland-Cincinatti combination. And that dump with the flat-iron sign is The Sahara. Latest thing. Listed owners are a bunch of small-time gamblers from Oregon. Funny thing, they lost $50,000 on their opening night. Would ya believe it! All the big shots come along with their pockets full of dough to make some courtesy play, make the fust night a success, y’unnerstand. It’s a custom here for the rival outfits to gather round at an opening. But boy, the cards just wouldn’t co-operate and the opposition guys walked off with fifty Grand! Town’s laffing about it still. Then,’ he waved to the left where the neon was wrought into a twenty-foot covered wagon at full gallop, ‘Ya get The Last Frontier. That’s a dummy Western town on the left. Worth seein’. And over there’s The Thunderbird, and across the road’s The Tiara. Snazziest joint in Vegas. Guess ya know about Mister Spang and all that?’ He slowed down and halted opposite the Spang hotel, which was topped by a ducal coronet of brilliant lights that winked on and off in a lost battle with the glaring sun and the reflections from the highway.
‘Yes, I know the outlines,’ said Bond. ‘But I’d be glad for you to fill them in some time. And now what?’
‘Whatever ya say, Mister.’
Bond suddenly felt he had had enough of the ghastly glitter of The Strip. He only wanted to get indoors and out of the heat, have some lunch and perhaps a swim and take things easy until the night. He said so.
‘Suits me,’ said Cureo. ‘Guess ya shouldn’t get into much trouble ya first night. Take it easy though and act kinda natural. If ya got work to do in Vegas ya better wait till ya know ya way around. And watch the gambling, friend.’ He chuckled. ‘Y’ever hear of those Silence Towers they have in India? They say it takes those vultures only twenty minutes to strip a guy to the bones. Guess they take a bit longer at The Tiara. Mebbe the Unions slow ’em down.’ The driver banged the gear lever into first. ‘All ’a same,’ he said, watching the traffic in his driving mirror, ‘there was one guy left Vegas with a hundred Grand.’ He paused, waiting for a chance to cross the parkway. ‘Only thing, he had half a million when he started to play.’
The car swung across the traffic and under the pillared portico in front of the wide glass doors of the sprawling, pink stucco building. The bell captain, in a sky blue uniform, opened the cab door and reached in for Bond’s bag. Bond stepped out into the heat.
As he shouldered his way through the glass doors he heard Ernie Cureo say to the captain: ‘Some crazy Limey. Hired me for fifty bucks a day! Whaddya know about that?’
And then the door swung to behind him and the beautiful cold air welcomed him with a chill kiss into the glittering palace of the man called Seraffimo Spang.
16 | ‘THE TIARA’
Bond had lunch in the air-conditioned ‘Sunburst Room’ beside the big kidney-shaped swimming pool (LIFESAVER: BOBBY BILBO – POOL SCOURED DAILY BY HYDRO-JET, said a sign) and having decided that only about one per cent of the customers were fit to wear bathing suits, walked very slowly through the heat across the twenty yards of baked lawn that separated his building from the central establishment, took off his clothes and threw himself naked on his bed.
There were six buildings containing the bedrooms of The Tiara and they were named after jewels. Bond was on the ground floor of ‘The Turquoise’. Its motif was egg-shell blue with furnishing materials of dark blue and white. His room was extremely comfortable and equipped with expensive and well-designed modern furniture of a silvery wood that might have been birch. There was a radio beside his bed and a television set with a seventeen-inch screen beside the broad window. Outside the window there was a small enclosed breakfast patio. It was very quiet and there was no sound from the thermostat-controlled air-conditioning and Bond was almost instantly asleep.
