Be Cool

by Elmore Leonard

  Elliot said, "They always scream like that."

  SUNDAY AFTERNOON at Elaine's, on the terrace with cool drinks, taking the sun:

  "I called the concierge, let them handle it."

  "What did you tell him?"

  "A guy went off the balcony. That's all they had to know. They called the cops, I called Darryl, my interpreter in police matters. He and his wife just spent the day at a nursing home, putting her mother away; so Darryl was walking on air till he got to the hotel."

  Elaine said, "They arrested Elliot?"

  "What you're really asking, do we still have to do the screen test. I don't know yet. They took him to Wilshire to have a talk. Elliot admits what he did, but it was to save my life and I backed him up. I had a nine-millimeter stuck in my side. I was either gonna get shot or Raji, who came with the idea of killing me, was going off the balcony."

  Elaine said, "But Elliot came with him."

  "That's what they have to get clear in their minds, the intent. Elliot says he thought they came to discuss Linda's contract. But then, once they got there, he saw what Raji had in mind. I said all I know is he saved my fuckin life. Darryl stared at me for an hour or so. He stares and you're suppose to break down and tell the truth."

  Elaine said, "But it is the truth, isn't it?"

  "Yeah, but we left out some of the details, not wanting to confuse the issue."

  "Like what?"

  "The phone messages. I checked after I called Darryl. There wasn't a saved message from you."

  "Then Elliot lied."

  "It was his way of saying he believed me, that you did call. And it's true. But see, if he didn't believe me, then what? You bring up that question—would he have stuck with Raji and thrown me off instead? Some gray areas are okay, but that's the kind you don't want to get into."

  "He might've killed you."

  "But he didn't, he saved my life."

  "What about Joe Loop and the dead Russian, all that?"

  "They'll get into that, see if they can tie it all up. I'd given Darryl the baseball bat. He said they found traces of Joe Loop's blood, his prints, Raji's prints, Elliot's, mine, the store clerk's. . . . If Elliot gave us the bat to set up Raji, it didn't work."

  "So he brought it," Elaine said, "just to destroy my TV."

  "The one you borrowed. And they got the gun Raji had, still in his hand; they had to pry his fingers loose. They'll test it, see if it was used on Joe Loop. If it was, it could give Elliot some trouble."

  "The witnesses," Elaine said, "the midnight picnickers in Griffith Park."

  "If they see Elliot in a showup he's done."

  "How could they miss him?"

  "We'll have to wait and see what happens. I'd still like to use him."

  "As what?"

  "Elaine, the guy saved my life. The least I can do is put him in a movie."

  26

  * * *

  MIKE DOWNEY, Darryl's friend at the Los Angeles Times, wrote the lead story. His follow-up interview of Elliot ran with the headline:

  "It's a good thing I was there, huh?"

  And it was picked up by newspapers across the country. Time and Newsweek ran their own stories with shots of the smiling Samoan, and within a few days Elliot Wilhelm was a national celebrity, the man who saved Chili Palmer's life. Mike Downey's interview of the man he called a "gentle giant" drew these candid responses, highlighted here.

  MD: "Elliot, what were you doing there, really?"

  EW: "Saving the man's life, I guess. It's a good thing I was there, huh? I had a feeling Raji was up to something, so I went with him. Chili Palmer is a friend of mine and I didn't want nothing to happen to him. He's a beautiful man."

  MD: "Implying he's more than just a friend?"

  EW: "Don't get me wrong. Chili is straight as an arrow and I respect him for it. What I am is who I am."

  MD: "Are you pure Samoan?"

  EW: "I'm pure in my heart and one quarter to one eighth Samoan, but it's the part of me I like best."

  MD: "Have the police finished interrogating you?"

  EW: "They interviewed me about Raji, like you doing. I told them I quit being his bodyguard as soon as he told me he killed a man named Joe Loop."

  MD: "Weren't you suspected of being an accomplice? I understand there were a couple of eyewitnesses who saw two men, and one of them might have been you."

  EW: "The police wanted the witnesses to look at me in a line-up. My lawyer said it wouldn't be fair, since they already seen my picture so much. So they let me go."

  MD: "Is it true Chili Palmer is putting you in one of his movies?"

  EW: "That's right, Mike. At first he wanted to give me a screen test, see if I can act. But then he said I don't have to, I'm going to be in this movie he's doing."

  MD: "What's it about?"

  EW: "He wouldn't tell me. I said okay, but I want to show you I have talent. So he made arrangements for me to appear at a club, the Troubadour on Santa Monica, two weeks from now."

  MD: "What are you going to do, Elliot, sing?"

  EW: "It's a surprise. Something I've been working on I never told anybody about that's gotten bigger. You know Linda Moon?"

  MD: "With her hit 'Odessa'? Who doesn't know Linda Moon."

  EW: "She's a good friend of mine. She came to see me when it looked like I was in trouble."

  MD: "She's part of the act?"

  EW: "I told you, man, it's a surprise. You have to come see what we do."

  Elaine missed it. She had to be in New York the same day for a meeting with the insurance company that owned Tower Studios. That was the main reason Chili had the show videotaped, using two cameras. Several evenings later they were watching it in bed with drinks and smokes, Elaine her cigarette, Chili his cigar. He popped on the video with the remote and Elaine said, "Is that Linda?"

  "It sure is," Chili said, "and her band, having some fun."

  They were on stage plugged in, ready to go: Linda with her low-slung guitar, Dale on his bar stool, Speedy behind a full drum kit, the works, and Vita up there by a mike. Linda used the one at center stage to say, "Hold on to your seats, folks, you're in for some heavy shit. Hi, I'm Linda Moon, and it's my pleasure to introduce a dear friend of mine making his professional debut. Give it up now for a full ton of gangsta hip-hop. Here's Elliot Wilhelm and his Royal Samoans!" She hit a chord, backing out of the way, the band came in with their amps way up.

  And Elaine said, "Oh, my God."

  At the sight of Elliot and his rappers coming out to center stage in a funky strut, six beefed-up men in black, in black felt hats and shades, prowling the stage to:

  Swat man comin, uh-oh, uh-oh,

  Swat man comin, le's go, le's go, gotta hide the shit

  or sniff it quick, pop it, shoot it, stick it, lick

  all the dust, the whole nickel bag,

  Swat man's coming with his .44 mag.

  Uh-oh, uh-oh. (Linda and Vita on the uh-ohs)

  Shhhh. Be cool.

  Uh-oh, uh-oh.

  Hear what I'm sayin? Be cool.

  Swat man comm to snatch the blow, up the stairs

  and kick in the doh. This shit's too fine to put

  down the drain. Stop and think, girl, use your

  brain.

  It's so fine we do some lines, pop it, shoot it,

  sniff it, freebase, fore the mothafucka shows his face.

  (chorus)

  People in the hood they call Holly-wood

  all get down on Mexican brown, on ludes,

  on meth, on PCP, so why the fuck you pickin

  on me?

  Come with your gun to stop my fun, want to

  send my ass

  to the slam. Man, I'm quiet as a clam,

  don't hurt nobody or cause a riot. You the

  mothafucka that

  ought to try it.

  (chorus)

  I ain't takin no more the man's shit, thought of a way

  to make him quit. One I dream where I hear

&nb
sp; him scream

  when I throw his ass from off a high place and

  the man

  is gone without leavin a trace. I know how, I've done

  it, see. Throw him away and set myself free.

  Uh-oh, uh-oh.

  I'm gonna do it.

  Uh-oh, uh-oh.

  Leave me to it.

  Uh-oh, uh-oh.

  Hear what I'm saying? Be cool.

  Elliot Wilhelm and his Royal Samoans started to run through the number again and Chili clicked it off.

  "There's a lot more if you like rap."

  "I like the 'Uh-oh, uh-oh,'" Elaine said.

  "Hy was ready to sign Elliot on the spot. He says they're better'n Ropa-Dope. I told him he ought to talk to Darryl first. Darryl was there with his wife. He says he's sure Elliot's dirty. For one thing Elliot bought the baseball bat."

  "What do you think?"

  "He helped Raji. He might even've told him how to do it, Raji wasn't that bright. But it works for the part he plays; you get into crime you have to be kinda dumb." He glanced over to see Elaine looking at him. She didn't say anything, just looked. "Anyway I told Darryl to take his time with Elliot."

  "Why?"

  "I want him in the picture. Maybe as you said, cast him against type. After they finished, guess who was all over him?"

  "Edie."

  Chili smiled at her. "You're a pleasure to work with, you know it?"

  "Edie probably figures, if he's that big . . . You see her and Elliot getting together? I mean in the picture."

  "Yeah, but not build up how he's hung and pay it off at the end, the audience waiting to see it. . . . That's kid stuff. He could even be an Indian—he played one in Up Your Trail."

  Elaine said, "I missed that one."

  "He said he was an 'Injun,' making fun of the role."

  Elaine said, "I got that," taking a cigarette from the pack on the night table.

  He watched her light it. "You're gonna have another cigarette?"

  She said, "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am," in a quiet tone. And said in a different tone, "Are you gonna count how many I smoke?"

  "Ask a simple question," Chili said, "women always think there's some deeper meaning, like I'm telling you you shouldn't. You want to smoke, smoke." He puffed on his cigar, but it had gone out. "I forgot to tell you, Linda's signing with Maverick for a million bucks."

  "You forgot to tell me?"

  Chili said, "It was that night," nodding at the TV set, "she told me. It turns out Nicky Car introduced her to the promotion director at Maverick—Terry something, starts with an A—the same guy I happened to meet in the bar at the hotel who told me about bootleg records? Terry hands her over to Guy Oseary, the talent guy, and he offers her the mil and Rick Rubin as her producer. Or she can have Don Was, whoever she wants."

  "You forgot to tell me—"

  "I said, 'Linda, I thought we had an agreement.' She said I broke it when I set her up at the radio station. Hy offered her two-fifty, she went for the mil. I was disappointed, you know, but I'm not that surprised. She's got that killer instinct you have to have, or some have to have. I told her she was a tough broad, as a compliment."

  "And it's a lovely one. So you don't care?"

  "It works in the story."

  "Who's the lead?"

  "She is."

  "It's about her?"

  "Yeah."

  "And she bails out on the guy at the end?"

  Chili sipped his drink, placed it between his legs and relit the cigar. He puffed on it.

  "She doesn't have to in the movie. But then what? I kinda like her bailing out." He puffed on the cigar. "Maybe she isn't the lead."

  "Who is then?"

  He blew out a thick plume of smoke, watched it rise and fade away.

  "What we've got, Elaine, is the material, the characters, the business, different situations, some action. . . . I can see Joe Loop getting the contract in some Italian restaurant, a napkin stuck in his collar. You know, things I didn't witness myself I can make up." He paused. "It could still be about Linda, the chick of the moment, how she handles success."

  "That's a different movie, the sequel."

  "Don't mention sequels, okay? Look, we got all the material we need. Why don't we give it to the screenwriter? Instead of us fuckin up the story, let Scooter do it."

  The Extras

  I. ALL BY ELMORE: THE CRIME NOVELS; THE WESTERNS

  II. SELECTED FILMOGRAPHY

  III. IF IT SOUNDS LIKE WRITING, REWRITE IT

  V. MARTIN AMIS INTERVIEWS “THE DICKENS OF DETROIT”

  This section was prepared by the editorial staff of HarperCollins e-books, who thank Mr. Gregg Sutter, Elmore Leonard’s longtime researcher and aide-de-camp, for his unstinting support and help in the assembling of this material.

  Further riches await the reader at the website that Mr. Sutter maintains, www.elmoreleonard.com, and in “The Extras” sections of other HarperCollins editions of Elmore Leonard’s novels (“All by Elmore” and “Selected Filmography” come standard in each e-book).

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  * * *

  The following songs were composed by Barbara Keith for The Stone Coyotes and are used by permission of The Stone Coyotes (www.stonecoyotes.com): “The Church of the Falling Rain,” “Hammer on the Nail,” “My Little Runaway,” “The Changing of the Guard,” and “Odessa.”Copyright 1998 Mohawk Trail Music. Registered with ASCAP.

  Thanks to Aerosmith and Stephen Davis, whose book Walk This Way, Copyright 1997, provided some material for the portrait of the band.

  * * *

  All by Elmore: The Crime Novels; The Westerns

  The Crime Novels

  The Big Bounce (1969); Mr. Majestyk (1974); 52 Pickup (1974); Swag* (1976); Unknown Man #89 (1977); The Hunted (1977); The Switch (1978); City Primeval: High Noon in Detroit (1980); Gold Coast (1980); Split Images (1981); Cat Chaser (1982); Stick (1983); LaBrava (1983); Glitz (1985); Bandits (1987); Touch (1987); Freaky Deaky (1988); Killshot(1989); Get Shorty (1990); Maximum Bob (1991); Rum Punch (1992); Pronto (1993); Riding the Rap(1995); Out of Sight (1996); Be Cool (1999); Pagan Babies (2000); “Fire in the Hole”* (e-book original story, 2001); Tishomingo Blues (2002); When the Women Come Out to Dance: Stories (2002).

  The Westerns

  The Bounty Hunters* (1953); The Law at Randado* (1954); Escape from Five Shadows* (1956); Last Stand at Saber River* (1959); Hombre* (1961); The Moonshine War* (1969); Valdez Is Coming* (1970); Forty Lashes Less One* (1972); Gunsights* (1979) Cuba Libre (1998); The Tonto Woman and Other Western Stories* (1998).

  As of November 2002: Unless otherwise indicated (*), all titles are available from HarperCollins e-books. All titles are available in print form in dazzling new editions by HarperTorch paperbacks, with the exception of: The Moonshine War (1969); Swag (1976); “Fire in the Hole” (2001). “Fire in the Hole” is available within HarperCollins e-book and William Morrow hardcover editions of When the Women Come Out to Dance (2002).

  The Crime Novels

  The Big Bounce(1969)

  Jack Ryan always wanted to play pro ball. But he couldn’t hit a curveball, so he turned his attention to less legal pursuits. A tough guy who likes walking the razor’s edge, he’s just met his match — and more — in Nancy. She’s a rich man’s plaything, seriously into thrills and risk, and together she and Jack are pure heat ready to explode. But when simple housebreaking and burglary give way to the deadly pursuit of a really big score, the stakes suddenly skyrocket. Because violence and double-cross are the name of this game — and it’s going to take every ounce of cunning Jack and Nancy possess to survive . . . each other.

  Houston Chronicle: “[Leonard is] a sage poet of crime.”

  From the novel:

  She was facing him now, her cold look gone and smiling a little. Of course it’s loaded.

  “You going to shoot something?”

  “We could. Windows are good.”

  “So you brought a gun to shoot a
t windows.”

  “And boats. Boats are fun.”

  “I imagine they would be. How about cars?”

  “I didn’t think about cars.” She seemed pleasantly surprised. “Isn’t that funny?

  “Yeah that is funny.”

  “There’s a difference,” Ryan said, “between breaking and entering and armed robbery.”

  “And there’s a difference between seventy-eight dollars and fifty thousand dollars.”

  Nancy said, “How badly do you want it?”

  Mr. Majestyk(1974)

  Vincent Majestyk saw too much death in the jungles of Southeast Asia. All he wants to do now is farm his melons and forget. But peace can be an elusive commodity, even in the Arizona hinterlands — and especially when the local mob is calling all the shots. And one quiet, proud man’s refusal to be strong-armed by a powerful hood is about to start a violent chain reaction that will leave Mr. Majestyk ruined, in shackles, and without a friend in the world — except for one tough and beautiful woman. But his tormentors never realized something about their mark: This is not his first war. Vince Majestyk knows more than they’ll ever know about survival . . . and everything about revenge.

  Bergen Record: “First rate . . . an excellent thriller . . . well-plotted and smoothly written and crackles with suspense.”

  From the novel:

  Majestyk was running across the open scrub, weaving through the dusty brush clumps, by the time Renda got out of the car and began firing at him with the automatic, both hands extended in the handcuffs. Majestyk kept running. Renda jumped across the ditch, got to the fence, and laid the .45 on the top of a post, aimed, and squeezed the trigger three times, but the figure out in the scrub was too small now and it would have to be a lucky shot to bring him down. He fired once more and the automatic clicked empty.