One

VENDETTA IN
VEGAS

A SAVAGE electrical storm was raging across the Nevada desert when the hired limousine took us from Caesars Palace to the Hilton Hotel where Elvis was appearing. Lightning raked the sky and the neon signs along the Strip blinked moodily in the rain. The night was set for melodrama of a particular showbiz kind.

When the car pulled up, Joe Esposito was waiting to greet Tom Jones and conduct our small group to the Imperial Suite on the 30th floor. Elvis hadn't been expecting us to arrive in Las Vegas, but had been glad to get our phone call. Diamond Joe told us: 'The Boss would really appreciate the company of an old buddy tonight . . . But take it easy,' the head of the Memphis Mafia continued as the lift went up. 'He's got troubles.'

Elvis had been unwinding after his second show when someone had unwisely mentioned John Lennon. It was a bad move. Lennon's name was banned in the King's presence unless it was accompanied by words such as 'Commie' or 'junkie'.

'Lennon?' Elvis had snapped angrily, instantly flaring up. 'You oughta spell that L-e-n-i-n.'

Only those privy to his deepest thoughts knew at that time just how much Elvis hated the former Beatle or to what lengths he had gone to destroy him. If things had been bad for Elvis in 1963 when the Beatles first made their run at his title, they were infinitely worse now, even though the group had broken up. Paul, George and Ringo might not pose a threat any more, but John Lennon mattered more than ever.

To Elvis, he had become a symbol of anti-American activism, a mocking, unwashed, long-haired hero of a drug culture that was threatening the established order of things. In Elvis's eyes, he was a son of Satan, an anti-Christ who believed he was bigger than Jesus.

His judgment distorted by his own drug dependence, Elvis had waged an unrelenting campaign against John ever since they had first fallen out at their one and only meeting back in the Sixties. I remembered that occasion extremely well. I had been responsible for setting it up and had had a ringside seat at the events that took place. Priscilla had been there, too.

We now found Elvis in the suite's vast sunken livingroom with Charlie Hodge, Jerry Schilling and some of the other Guys. An assortment of party guests, hand-picked because they were either decorative or useful i