“Get out, Eddie,” my brother said, “and take your hood with you.”
“You want I should bust him up, Mr. G.?” Jerry asked, pointing at my brother, who shrank back as if he thought I was going to sic the big boy on him.
I was tempted.
“No, that’s okay, Jerry.”
“Then why don’t we get outta here, Mr. G.?” Jerry suggested.
“I’m with you, Jerry. Let’s go.”
Under the watchful eye of everyone Jerry and I left.
Out in the parking lot Jerry said, “Geez, Mr. G., I’m sorry.”
“For what? You didn’t do anythin’.”
“I made you come here,” Jerry said. “You’re right, those people are nuts.”
“Yeah, they are,” I said. “They sure are.”
The next day Jerry drove me to the cemetery at the very end of the procession of cars. I stood off to the side during the ceremony while he waited in the Caddy. Then I walked to the car. We were the first ones to drive away.
To La Guardia, and back to Vegas.
Back to my life.
My Vegas, where the people tryin’ to kill you were the bad guys-not family.
Seventeen
The ticket change went smoothly. I slept through most of the flight, dreaming that I was in Coney Island with my brother, Danny, and Danny’s brother, Nick, my best friend. We were eating Nathan’s hot dogs. I woke up wondering why I hadn’t had Jerry drive me there before we left.
I was walking through McCarran when I felt a heavy hand come down on my shoulder. It was a very familiar pressure.
“Hey, Mr. G.,” Jerry said.
“Where did you come from?”
“Seven rows behind you.”
“No, I mean-”
“I know what ya mean, Mr. G.,” Jerry said. “I figured you could use some help on this one.”
“On which one?”
“Yer missin’ friend,” he said, “not to mention Marilyn Monroe.”
“How the hell did I miss you on the plane?” I asked. The question was more for me than him.
“You never looked,” he said. “And you slept most of the way. Come on, Mr. G. Did ya leave your car here?”
“No,” I said, “we’ll have to take a cab.”
He gave me a look I’ve seen on lots of puppies over the years.
“You ain’t sorry ta see me, are ya?”
“No, Jerry,” I said. “I’m not sorry to see you. Come on, we’re goin’ to the Sands first to get you a room.”
“We ain’t stayin’ at your house?”
“Naw,” I said, “I could never match your hospitality. This time, I’m gettin’ you a suite!”
We arrived at the Sands and I got Jerry situated in a suite. I told him I didn’t need him because I was going to see Jack Entratter, so he figured he’d just take a shower and enjoy the place.
“Order room service,” I suggested.
“Really? What can I get?”
“Anything.”
After I left him I wondered if I’d just opened a can of worms I’d never be able to close.
“Welcome back, Eddie,” Entratter said, as I entered his office. “How was the-I mean, how did it go?”
“It went,” I said. “Listen, Jack, I may have to leave again. If I do it’ll be quick.”
“Where to this time?”
“L.A.”
“This have to do with that favor for Dean?”
I nodded. It was actually Danny, but that name didn’t carry the same weight.
“Okay, Eddie,” he said, “just keep me informed.”
“Will do, Jack.”
I started to leave, then stopped.
“Jack, are the guys still in town?”
“Dean is,” he said. “Sammy had to leave, and Frank went to Palm Springs. He’s still havin’ that construction done.”
“Dean in the same suite?”
“Yeah. You wanna go see ‘im?”
“Yeah, right now.”
“I’ll call ‘im and set it up,” Entratter said. “Just go on up.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
Dean opened the door. “Hey, pally, how are ya?”
“I’m okay, Dean,” I said, entering the room.
“The funeral?” He closed the door and turned to face me. He was dressed casually, cream-colored slacks and a yellow pullover short-sleeved shirt with a collar. Cream-colored loafers matched the pants.
“Over with,” I said. “I’m not here to talk about that, though.”
“Okay,” he said. “Drink?”
“Where’s Mack?”
“Didn’t make the trip this time,” Dean said. “I can get you a drink myself, though.”
“Too early,” I said.
He walked to the bar, where a glass filled with a clear liquid and ice sat. I knew from past experience it was soda water.
“I appreciate you stayin’ over, Dean.”
“I told you I wouldn’t leave ‘til you got back,” he said. “Gave me time to get some golf in. What’s on your mind now?”
“Marilyn thinks she’s being followed,” I said. “What do you think?”
“What I always think,” he said. “She’s a frightened, confused child in a woman’s body.”
“Well, maybe she’s right, this time,” I said.
“How do you mean?”
“Can I use your phone?”
“Sure, go ahead. It’s your hotel. Make it long distance if you want.”
“No, that’s okay,” I said. “Local is good.”
I dialed the number of Danny’s office and waited for Penny to pick up. I let it ring a dozen times, but there was no answer.
“Okay,” I said, hanging up, “now I’m really worried.”
“What’s goin’ on, buddy?”
“My friend, Danny, followed Marilyn to L.A. to make sure she was safe,” I said, “and now he’s missing.”
“How do you know that?”
“His secretary called me in New York, said she hadn’t heard from him, and couldn’t get ahold of him. Now I just called his office, and she didn’t answer.”
“So you think she’s missing?”
“Maybe she’s out to lunch,” I said, “but I’ve got to go and find out. After that, I’m pretty sure I’ll be goin’ to L.A. Look, Dean, I know you’ve got things to do. I don’t expect you to hang around here.”
“I’m gonna leave tomorrow, as a matter of fact,” he said, “but I’m gonna give you my home number, and my manager’s number. Keep me informed, all right? And let me know if I can do anything.”
“Will do,” I said, shaking his hand. “Thanks, Dean.”
“No, thank you,” he said, walking me to the door. “You’re only involved in this because I asked you.”
“Well, now I’m involved because I’m concerned about Marilyn,” I said, “and my friends.”
I left to go and get Jerry. It looked like I might be needing him after all.
Eighteen
I picked Jerry up and as we walked to the parking lot I explained the situation. He drove the Caddy, and I was impressed that he remembered the way to Danny’s office. When I asked Jerry to park in front of Danny’s building he insisted on parking down the street, “Just in case.”
We walked back to Danny’s office. The downstairs door was unlocked, but that wasn’t unusual. We also found the upstairs door unlocked, which it usually was during business hours.
“You got your gun?” I asked Jerry.
“You bet.” He pulled his jacket aside to show me the.45 under his arm, but he didn’t draw it.
As we entered we saw the outer office was empty.
“Penny?” I called. She could have been in Danny’s office, but there was no answer. Jerry went and checked it anyway.
“Empty,” he said. “Maybe she went out for tea?”
Again I was impressed that he remembered Penny drank tea. It had taken me years to get that straight.
“Maybe, but …”
“But w
hat?”
“Somethin’ doesn’t feel right.”
“Like what?”
I walked to Danny’s office and looked inside. The top of his desk was a mess. Danny always said his desk looked like the inside of his head.
On the other hand, Penny’s desk was always clean and neat. Only now there were letters sprawled across it and pencils strewn about, rather than in her pencil mug.
“Somebody took her,” I said.
“How do you know?”
I pointed at her desk and explained. “She’s sendin’ us a message.”
Jerry walked to the window and stared down at Fremont Street. Then he looked directly across, at the windows on the other side of the street.
“I don’t see nothin’.” He turned to face me. “Whataya wanna do? Call the cops?”
“I wouldn’t know what to tell them,” I said. “Her desk is a little messy. What would that mean to them? Besides, a great man once told me no good ever came from callin’ the cops,” I added, quoting him.
“You know where she lives?” Jerry asked.
“No.”
“Well, we can find the address somewhere here,” he said.
I scratched my head.
“I guess we should check her place. She’s probably listed in the phone book.”
We looked around, located the phone book and looked up her number. I dialed and she answered on the second ring.
“Penny?”
“Eddie? Where are you?”
“Your office. I thought-”
“You thought what? I’m upset, I didn’t want to sit in the office all day. I’m not going in until Danny comes back. Eddie, what’s going on? Why didn’t you call me when you got back?”
“Penny, I came lookin’ for you at the office. When I saw the mess on your desk I thought … I thought you were missing, too.”
“That’s sweet, Eddie, that you were worried, but I’m fine. I just left in a hurry. I had to get out of there.”
“I understand, honey.”
“You call me as soon as you know something, you hear me?”
“I will, Penny,” I said. “I promise.”
I hung up and looked at Jerry.
“We goin’ ta L.A.?”
I rubbed my face.
“We’d have to get our plane tickets pretty quick-”
“How long would it take to drive?” he asked.
“Drive?”
“Yeah,” Jerry said. “By the time we buy tickets, get to the airport, get on a plane-”
“It’s only about two hundred and fifty miles,” I told him.
“Hell, in your Caddy? We can do that in under three hours.”
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s find the name of the motel where Danny was staying. Then we’ll pack the car and head right out.”
We started searching for the information we needed. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to call Penny again. Finally, we found the motel name and address on her desk calendar.
We drove to my house so I could pack, then went to the Sands to get Jerry’s suitcase. After that we went down to the parking lot and tossed the bags in the back of the car.
“I get to drive, right?”
I nodded.
“You get to drive, big guy.”
Nineteen
The drive to L.A. took less than three hours. Jerry kept the Caddy between ninety and a hundred miles an hour most of the way and, surprisingly, we never got pulled over.
As we entered L.A., Jerry asked, “Where to?”
“Wait,” I said. “I’ve got to wait for my stomach to catch up.”
“Aw, Mr. G….”
“I’ve got directions to the motel Danny was stayin’ at,” I said. “I want to check there first.”
“Sure, Mr. G.”
The motel Danny had stayed in was just off 405, about half an hour’s drive from Marilyn’s house. He might have gotten something closer, but I knew he looked with a budget in mind. After all, I was going to be footing the bill.
We pulled into the parking lot of the Starshine Motor Court.
“You stay in the car,” I said. “I want to do this without being noticed, if I can.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll watch yer back from here.”
I decided to go to the room first. I opened the gate and entered the pool area, taking the stairs to the second level. Penny had written the room number down along with the address. When I got to Danny’s room I knocked. I thought, Wouldn’t it be a kick if he answered? Well, I was going to have to get my kicks somewhere else. He didn’t answer and the door was locked.
I heard something squeaking, turned my head and saw a maid pushing her cart. She wasn’t stopping at any of the rooms, so she must have finished for the day-at least, on this floor.
I started fishing around in my pocket, as if looking for my key. I didn’t know if this would work. In fact, it probably wouldn’t have worked on the maids in the Sands, but maybe here … then again, maids in L.A. hotels and motels had probably seen everything.
“Can you help me?” I asked, as she reached me.
She looked at me with bored, middle-aged eyes. Yeah, she’d seen it all. “You want in?”
“I forgot my key-”
“Don’t try to bullshit me, mister,” she said. “I been pushing this cart for too many years.”
“Well … okay. See, it’s my brother’s room and he said-”
“Ten bucks,” she said, cutting me off.
“What?”
“Ten bucks and I’ll let ya in.”
“Okay,” I agreed, handing over a sawbuck.
She used her key to open the door, swinging it wide and stepping back.
“Actually,” I said, trying one more time, “I think my wife’s cheating and using this motel-”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, waving her hand, “you don’t say nothin’ and I won’t say nothin’.”
She moved on. I went inside and closed the door behind me. She had obviously already cleaned the room. The bed was neatly made. There were fresh, dry towels in the bathroom. The bottom of the tub was dry. Maybe she hadn’t needed to replace the towels.
I looked through the dresser drawers and found nothing. There was no suitcase in the room. Danny may not have had time to pack anything. If he’d followed Marilyn from Tahoe he might have been resourceful enough to get on her flight and follow her all the way. He could have picked up whatever he needed in LAX when they landed, maybe even a t-shirt or two and some underwear. I looked in the wastebasket to see if there were any clothing tags or empty bags, but there was nothing. The maid had done her job well.
In fact, there was nothing in the room to indicate that Danny had ever been there. I went back into the bathroom and looked on the counter. Okay, there was a comb, and a bottle of cologne. It was Hai Karate. Danny used it, but so did a lot of other guys.
Playing detective in the room had gotten me nowhere. I decided to go to the front desk and ask. After all, what was I trying to hide? I just wanted to know if my friend had ever checked in.
I left the room, letting the door lock behind me.
“Sure,” the desk clerk said, “he took a room here. Been here … what? Four days?”
Sounded right. I had been in Brooklyn for three days. The desk clerk had answered my question for the same price it took to get the maid to open the door. I wasn’t sure if I had gotten a deal or not.
“Have you seen him lately?”
“Whataya mean lately?”
The clerk was in his fifties, and had been dozing when I walked in. I had the feeling he spent a lot of his time dozing.
“Today? Yesterday? Maybe you saw him comin’ in, goin’ out?”
“Nope.”
“You sure?”
“I hear and see everything.”
“You didn’t hear or see me come in.”
He showed me a wolfish, yellow-toothed grin. “Yeah, I did.”
“Okay,” I said, “okay.”
“If he came in lat
e or early, then I wouldn’t’ve been here. You’d have to talk to whoever was on nights.”
“And who would that be?”
“Mmm, that’d be … Harry two nights, and … oh, yeah, Hilary the other two.” From the guy’s tone of voice Hilary was apparently a babe.
“What time do they come on?”
“Whoever it is tonight would be comin’ on at eleven tonight. Leaves at 7:00 A.M. You’ll catch ‘em any time between there.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Don’t let ‘em hit ya for more than a sawbuck. It ain’t worth more.”
“Oh, yeah, thanks.”
I started out, stopped at the door and turned back.
“Where would I go to talk to the police who handle this area?”
“That’d be the West Los Angeles Station. You want directions?”
“How much will it cost me?”
He made a face and said, “Up to you. I trust ya to do the right thing.”
He wrote the directions down for me.
I gave him a fin.
Twenty
Marilyn’s new house was in Brentwood, which was very high-end. We got off 405 at Wilshire Boulevard, which became West San Vicente Boulevard, and took that to South Carmelina Avenue. That took us to Marilyn’s street, 12305 Fifth Helena Drive. When we got there Jerry parked in front and turned off the engine.
“Now what?” he asked. “We go in?”
“We should’ve called first,” I said. “We’re liable to scare her.”
“If she’s even there,” he said. “Maybe she’s makin’ a movie.”
“Let me go in alone, first,” I said.
“Aw, Mr. G….”
“I just don’t want to scare her, Jerry,” I said. “Once I’m in and see that she’s fine, I’ll call you in.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” I said, getting out of the car, “I promise.”
All the streets running off of Carmelina were known as the “Numbered Helenas.” They were all dead ends. Marilyn’s house was a Spanish hacienda-style with a red-tiled roof, white stucco walls, and casement windows. There was also a pool, and small guesthouse. The gate, given Marilyn’s state of mind, was oddly open. I walked up the drive to the house, which looked kind of small by Hollywood standards.
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