Free Fear and loathing in Las Vegas, and other American stories by Hunter S. Thompson Page B

article finally died on the vine, as it were, because I refused to rewrite the lead. For reasons of my own . . .
    None of which would make much sense in The Yard. But what the hell? Why worry about details? I turned to face my accuser, a small young clerk with a big smile on his face and a yellow envelope in his hand. “I’ve been calling your room,” he said. “Then I saw you standing outside.”
    I nodded, too tired to resist. By now the Shark was beside me, but I saw no point in even tossing my bag into it. The game was up. They had me.
    The clerk was still smiling. “This telegram just came for you,” he said. “But actually it
isn’t
for you. It’s for somebody named Thompson, but it says ‘
care of
Raoul Duke’; does that make sense?”
    I felt dizzy. It was too much to absorb all at once. From freedom, to prison, and then back to freedom again—all in thirty seconds. I staggered backwards and leaned on the car, feeling the white folds of the canvas top beneath my trembling hand. The clerk, still smiling, was poking the telegram at me.
    I nodded, barely able to speak. “Yes,” I said finally, “it makes sense.” I accepted the envelope and tore it open:
    URGENT SPEED LETTER

HUNTER S. THOMPSON

C/O RAOUL DUKE

SOUNDPROOF SUITE 1850

MINT HOTEL LAS VEGAS

CALL ME AT ONCE REPEAT AT ONCE WE HAVE A NEW ASSIGNMENT BEGINNING TOMORROW ALSO VEGAS DONT LEAVE STOP THE NATIONAL CONFERENCE OF DISTRICT ATTORNEYS INVITES YOU TO THEIR FOUR DAY SEMINAR ON NARCOTICS AND DANGEROUS DRUGS AT DUNES HOTEL STOP ROLLING STONE CALLED THEY WANT 50 THOUSAND WORDS MASSIVE PAYMENT TOTAL EXPENSES INCLUDING ALL SAMPLES STOP WE HAVE RESERVATIONS AT HOTEL FLAMINGO AND WHITE CADDY CONVERTIBLE STOP EVERYTHING IS ARRANGED CALL IMMEDIATELY FOR DETAILS URGENT REPEAT URGENT STOP
    DOCTOR GONZO

    “Holy shit!” I muttered. “This can’t be true!”
    “You mean it’s not for you?” the clerk asked, suddenly nervous. “I checked the register for this man Thompson. We don’t show him, but I thought he was part of your team.”
    “He is,” I said quickly. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it to him.” I tossed my bag into the front seat of the Shark, wanting to leave before my stay of execution ran out. But the clerk was still curious.
    “What about Doctor Gonzo?” he said.
    I stared at him, giving him a full taste of the mirrors. “He’s fine,” I said. “But he has a vicious temper. The Doctor handles our finances, makes all our
arrangements
.” I slid into the driver’s seat and prepared to leave.
    The clerk leaned into the car. “What confused us,” he said, “was Doctor Gonzo’s signature on this telegram from Los Angeles—when we knew he was here in the hotel.” He shrugged. “And then to have the telegram addressed to some guest we couldn’t account for . . . well, this delay was unavoidable. You understand, I hope. . . .”
    I nodded, impatient to flee. “You did the right thing,” I said. “Never try to understand a press message. About half the time we use codes—especially with Doctor Gonzo.”
    He smiled again, but this time it seemed a trifle odd. “Tell me,” he said, “when will the doctor be awake?”
    I tensed at the wheel “Awake? What do you mean?”
    He seemed uncomfortable. “Well . . . the manager, Mister Heem, would like to
meet
him.” Now his grin was definitely malevolent. “Nothing unusual. Mr. Heem likes to meet all our
large
accounts . . . put them on a personal basis . . . just a chat and a handshake, you understand.”
    “Of course,” I said. “But if I were you I’d leave the doctor alone until after he’s eaten breakfast. He’s a very crude man.”
    The clerk nodded warily. “But he
will
be available. . . . Perhaps later this morning?”
    I saw what he was getting at. “Look,” I said. “That telegram was all scrambled. It was actually
from
Thompson, not
to
him. Western Union must have got the names reversed.” I held up the telegram, knowing he’d already read it. “What