按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
〃Isn't Muschino the coolest？〃 Dash said； as they walked into the fake Italian palazzo owned by the real Italian。 Britt remembered when it had been a low…rent apartment building filled with friends of hers； struggling writers and artists。
〃His clothes are the coolest；〃 Britt said sarcastically； thinking they only looked good on call boys。
A butler； naked except for white gloves and a Muschino scarf wrapped around his waist； led them through rooms that looked like a vulgar Hollywood version of Pompeii。 They passed through a walkway filled with fake Greek urns； into the dining room filled with fake Chinese silks。 Everyone stopped talking； looked up。 Paulo air…kissed Dash on both cheeks； ignored Britt。 〃You're here just in time for dessert；〃 Paulo said； sitting Dash next to him； motioning at Britt with a flick of his hand。 She was seated at the other end in table Siberia； between a sexless； no…talent writer and that lesbian fox Antonia Cesare。 Next to Antonia was Madonna； who was in a liplock with that vapid bitters heir Chris Angostura。
Paulo was talking to Claudia Schiffer。 〃I don't understand；〃 he said； waving his wineglass dismissively。 〃What it is you date？ A magician？ What he do？ Pull rabbits out of hat？〃
〃So what was for dinner？〃 Britt asked； picking up the engraved menu。 〃 'Boiled loggerhead turtle eggs；' 〃 she read aloud。 〃 'Florida panther steaks with bearnaise。 Manatee mousse。' 〃
〃It was a Florida theme dinner in honor of Marion McAlister Williams；〃 Madonna said。 〃She just died； or something。〃
A gong rang and Paulo stood up。 〃Now for dessert； the most endangered species of all； the South Beach virgin。〃 A flawless naked black girl； covered in melted white chocolate and surrounded by fresh fruit； was rolled out on a silver tray at one end of the table； while at the same time a flawless naked white boy covered in dark chocolate and surrounded with fruit was pushed out at the other end。 Dash picked up a peeled banana from next to the girl； giggled； and asked； 〃Where should I dip it？〃
The white…chocolate confection opened her mouth； the icing cracking as she said； 〃If you want head； go to Hell。〃
Thousands of people holding VIP invitations to the grand opening of a new nightclub named Hell were frenzied； screaming； begging； crying； rushing the velvet ropes。 Hundreds of oversteroided bouncers held them back。 Dash and Britt got out of the limo to the cry of 〃Dash！ Dash！〃 Cameras flashed。 The crowd parted； like the Red Sea for Moses。 The velvet ropes lowered and they walked up the red carpet into Hell。
Britt felt the darkness devour； the heat hit； the beat throb。 Fog filled the room。 Red and blue spotlights spun and twisted as green lasers pierced and wiggled the darkness； then turned into wheels and spun。 Dash led her through the sea of flesh； torsos and trunks； heads and tails； which rose in tiers from the dance floor。 Everyone was in a different stage of undress； showing off tattoos and body piercing。 Some were pletely naked。 Every variety and possible bination of sex was taking place。 A woman wearing an Astroturf dress grabbed on to a speaker as she was mounted from behind by a man covered from head to toe in leather。
Britt felt faint； like she was swimming。 Then she looked down and saw sharks； big ones； gliding in a floodlit subterranean aquarium under the glass dance floor beneath her feet。 Just then a woman pushed up to them； held open her coat； a walking drugstore； and asked if they wanted speed； XTC； LSD； GHB； smack； crystal mesh； poppers； barbs； coke； rock； Chat； 'shrooms； peyote； opium。
〃You got any sugarless gum？〃 Britt asked。
Outside the ropes the crowd was getting more and more unruly； as Juan Carlos Reyes arrived with two dozen members of the First of April anti…Castro paramilitary group； tipped off by an anonymous phone call that an extremely high official of the Cuban government was going to be at the opening。
Inside； the main stage of Hell was flooded with light。 Shelley Novak led a chorus line of drag queens。 In her hands she held a silver platter； sauteed in blood； topped with an extremely lifelike head of Fidel Castro。
〃There's my damn prop！〃 Dash said； pointing to the head； pulling Britt in his direction。 As they lurched forward in the throng； machines started pumping foam all over the club as the revelers cried out in unison。
The din was so great nobody even heard the motion at the door when the bouncers refused to let Juan Carlos and his men in。 At Reyes's signal； they butted the bouncers with their guns and stormed in。 The crowd of thousands still waiting outside the velvet ropes saw their opportunity and rushed behind them； screaming； into the club； into the darkness； the heat； the smoke； the foam； onto the dance floor all at once。 Onstage； a conga line of fifty Castros in tutus kicked in unison。 Juan and his men stood there pointing their guns； not knowing which one to shoot； as a thirty…foot…high red devil's head was lowered from the ceiling。 Its mouth opened wide and a deep bass voice said； 〃Wele to South Beach。 Wele to Hell。〃 As if on cue； the glass dance floor splintered； then gave way； and squirming partygoers tumbled into the shark…filled pool。
The Miami morning sun shone brightly； cheerfully； mocking Fay's sadness。 She wished for some gray； some overcast。 Remnants of last night's sleeping pills scuba…dived in her brain as she checked the black； late…model Acura following her in the rearview mirror。 She'd easily shaken the other two cars that were following her； but this bastard seemed stuck to her。 So much to do； so little energy； she thought。 Planning her Granny's funeral in her head； worrying about Phil。 And these damn reporters； worse than no…see…ums。
She headed on 395 east toward Biscayne Bay； driving fast； faster； watching the speedometer； seventy； eighty； ninety。 She hit a bump； her truck bounced； the scuba tanks in the back banging against each other； metal scraping metal。 She knew she should have unloaded them。
The Acura followed her as she screeched down the expressway ramp。 This asshole wasn't just another reporter； she thought； or he would have given up by now。 She headed up Biscayne Boulevard； the truck trembling as she swerved onto the Venetian Causeway。
Fay saw the lights of the bridge gate； and then heard the bells of the bridge start to ring； the signal almost drowned out by the raucous strains of 〃Disco； Disco； Duck！〃 ing from a party boat； all lit up like Christmas； approaching from the south。
Granny； she thought； help me； save me。 She hit the brakes instinctively and then realized that flooring it was her only chance。 She stomped on the pedal。 The scuba tanks； which had slid violently forward when she hit the brakes； now shot back as the truck screeched forward。 When they slammed into the tailgate； they leapt up； and out into the air； in a perfect arch。
The bridge tender saw Fay's truck racing toward him on one side； the disco boat cruising toward him underneath on the other； scuba tanks flying above him； and almost directly below him； floating in the water； a big brown blob that looked like a booger。
He jammed his finger on the red stop button； and the ancient spans that had just begun to rumble upward je