You're nobody 'til somebody kills you rp-4

by Robert J. Randisi

  “My relationship with Jerry has no bearing on what we’re doin’ here, Mr. Otash,” I said. “He just volunteered to come here and help me.”

  Otash nodded. “Very well then,” he said. “Where can I contact you?”

  “We’re staying in Marilyn Monroe’s guesthouse,” I said. “I’ve written the number down there.”

  “Excellent,” Otash said. “I’ll try to have something for you by the end of the day.”

  “Thank you,” I said, standing up. Jerry did the same. We both shook hands with Otash again, and then he walked us to his door.

  “Will you fellas be staying in, or … going sightseeing? Something?”

  “We’re not interested in sightseeing,” I said, “but we might be in and out.”

  “I see. Well, if I don’t get you the first time I’ll just try again.”

  “That’d be good.”

  We walked past the secretary, who didn’t pay any attention to us, and left.

  “What’d you think?” I asked, when we got to the street.

  “I don’t like him,” Jerry said. “He’s too slick.”

  “Like an agent,” I said.

  “Or a lawyer,” Jerry said. “He asks a lot of questions.”

  “Part of his job.”

  “Yeah, but why does it matter why I’m here?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “He does seem to need a lot of information. Maybe he’s just bein’ thorough.”

  “Yeah,” Jerry said, “maybe. So what do we do now?”

  “You got any suggestions?”

  “I do,” he said, “but you probably won’t like it.”

  Since we’d only had toast and coffee for breakfast I thought I knew.

  “Let’s go find some pancakes,” I said.

  A big grin split Jerry face.

  “There ya go, Mr. G.”

  Thirty-nine

  We stopped at a pay phone before we went back to the guesthouse so I could call Penny, who proceeded to read me the riot act for taking so long to get back to her. I didn’t bother mentioning that Jerry and I had stopped for pancakes. That really would have set her off.

  I told her what we had been doing and who we’d hired to help us.

  “Fred Otash?” she asked. “Danny hates him.”

  “He knows him?”

  “No, he knows of him and doesn’t like him one bit,” she said.

  “Jealous?”

  She made a noise into the phone. “You know Danny. That’s not it. The guy has a reputation and it ain’t all good. Why don’t you let me give you some names?”

  “I think I’ll stick with Otash for now, Penny.”

  “By the way,” she asked, “how is Miss Monroe?”

  “She’s in Palm Springs, and I’m in L.A.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “In her guesthouse.”

  “Let me have the number so I can get in touch with you.”

  “Are you still not goin’ back to the office?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “It’s … too depressing. I’ll just close the office and wait for you to call me.”

  “Okay, Penny. As soon as I know something.”

  “And say hi to Jerry for me. I’m glad he’s there with you.”

  “So am I.”

  I hung up and looked at Jerry. “She says hi.”

  “Cute kid,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  “So,” he said, “now that we got this guy Otash workin’ on it, what do we do? Go back to Vegas?”

  “No,” I said, “I’m thinkin’ we go out to Palm Springs to see Marilyn.”

  “Bring her back here?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I mean, we haven’t done a thing about finding out who’s watchin’ her. We’ve been spendin’ all our time tryin’ to find Danny.”

  “Same thing, ain’t it?” he asked. “Find out who’s watchin’ her we find out who disappeared Danny.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “Danny’s worked on a lot of cases, Jerry,” I said. “What if somebody from one of those spotted him here in L.A. and waylaid him.”

  “That’d be a helluva coincidence, Mr. G.,” Jerry said. “I think we’re better off figurin’ it’s all connected. But hey, you’re the brains, I’m just the muscle.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “I’m the brains, that’s why I didn’t think of calling Penny at home sooner.”

  “Hey, I didn’t think of it either, Mr. G.”

  “Yeah, but you’re just muscle,” I said. “You said it yourself.”

  “I was jus’ tryin’ ta make you feel better, Mr. G.,” he said, straight-faced.

  “Speaking of calling, I better call Marilyn and make sure she’s okay,” I said. “Maybe we won’t need to drive out there.”

  Luckily, I had started carrying a lot of change.

  “Sinatra residence,” George said.

  “Hey, George, it’s Eddie G. How’s it goin’ there?” I asked.

  “We’ve had some excitement here, sir.”

  “What kind of excitement, George?”

  “I better let Mr. Sinatra tell you himself.”

  I heard him put the phone down, and moments later Frank picked it up.

  “Hey, Eddie.”

  “What’s goin’ on, Frank?”

  “We had somebody on the grounds last night,” Frank said. “A couple of my guys saw him near the house and chased him.”

  “Catch him?”

  “No, he got away.”

  “How’s Marilyn?”

  “She was a little shook up, but I convinced her that it had more to do with JFK’s visit than with her,” he said.

  “Did she buy it?”

  “I think so.”

  “Do you buy it?”

  “Not sure about that, buddy boy,” he said.

  “Okay, I think Jerry and I will take a ride out there so I can talk to her.”

  “That’s a good idea,” he said. “She depends on you a lot, Eddie. And when Marilyn starts depending on you, you’ve really got your hands full. Believe me, I know.”

  “Okay, Frank. We should be there in a couple of hours.”

  “Plan on eatin’ and spendin’ the night, pal,” Frank said. “No arguments.”

  “Sure, Frank,” I said. “No arguments.”

  Forty

  When we got to Palm Springs Marilyn hugged both of us-but I told myself she hugged me longer and harder.

  We had cannelloni with her and Frank and then, while Frank took Jerry to see his Oscar, I sat outside by the pool with Marilyn. We weren’t dressed to go swimming. She was wearing jeans with the legs rolled up her shins and a short-sleeved top. I had on a sports shirt and some chinos. We sat facing each other on two lounge chairs.

  “Heard you had some excitement last night,” I said.

  “Is that why you came back?” she asked. “To see if I was a mess?”

  “I came back to see if you were all right, Marilyn.”

  “So you don’t have any news?”

  “No, not really,” I said, “but we’ve got somebody workin’ on it with us. A professional.”

  “Who?”

  I didn’t want to tell her his name. She might have heard of Otash, which meant she might have heard some unflattering things.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “It’s somebody who’s gonna work hard for us.”

  “What about your friend, Danny? Any sign of him, yet?” she asked.

  “No, not yet.”

  She put her hand on my knee. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

  I put my hand over hers. “He’ll turn up,” I said. “I’m sure of it.”

  “Well, Frank thinks that the prowler last night had something to do with Jack’s visit.”

  “He’s probably right, since that’s no secret to anyone.”

  “Has anyone been around my house?”

  “Not that we’ve seen,” I said.

  “
Are you staying in the main house?”

  “No, out back.”

  “Both of you?” her eyes went wide. “Why, that little house is barely big enough for Jerry. Eddie, you stay in my house.” Then she got excited, as if she’d just thought of something. She literally bounced up and down. “Sleep in my bed, Eddie!”

  God, a week ago if someone had told me I’d hear those words from Marilyn Monroe …

  “That’s okay, Marilyn-”

  “Well, sleep on the sofa, then, it’s nice and big. I often curl up on it to watch TV and end up there all night.”

  “I can do that,” I said. I didn’t want to tell her we thought her house was bugged, and that’s why we weren’t using it.

  “How are you doin’ with Frank?”

  “He’s being very sweet, but he’s real busy with the construction. I can’t believe all the work he’s doing. I hope the president appreciates it.”

  “I hope so, too.”

  “Eddie”-she moved her hand up and down my leg-”I know you’re doing a lot for me already, but could I ask you a favor?”

  “Of course you can.” I put my hand on hers to stop hers from moving. I didn’t think she really knew what she was doing.

  “It’s about Clark, and people saying I … I killed him.”

  “I thought we talked about that, Marilyn.”

  “I know, I know we did, but … could you go and talk to Kay for me?”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “I want you to find out if she blames me … for anything. I don’t care about the newspaper gossips, but I’d hate it if Kay thought badly of me. She and I got along so well on the set. We called Clark ‘our man.’ It would just kill me if she thought I’d ever hurt him.”

  “Marilyn, why press it-”

  She grabbed my hand and squeezed.

  “Please, Eddie. I–I need this. I can’t sleep. I need to know she doesn’t blame me.”

  She brought her other hand into play, grabbing mine in both of hers and moving it onto her leg, where she held it tightly.

  “All right,” I said, helpless because of the pleading look in her eyes, “all right, I’ll go and talk to her.”

  “Oh, Eddie, thank you.”

  She threw herself at me, hugging me tightly, knocking me back onto the lounger with her on top of me. Little sister or not, I was very much aware that I had Marilyn Monroe’s braless breasts pressing tightly against me.

  “Hey, what goes on out here?” Frank called out.

  Marilyn was giggling as she got into a seated position. She adjusted herself and stood up.

  “Eddie just made me a very happy woman,” she announced.

  Frank looked at me and said, “That didn’t take very long.”

  “Screw you, Frank,” I said. It felt good to laugh.

  Forty-one

  Jerry had a beer in one hand and what looked like bourbon in the other, while Frank held up highballs, one of which had a cherry in it.

  “Me and Jerry decided we had to drink to good friends,” Frank said, handing Marilyn the drink with the cherry.

  “Here ya go, Mr. G.,” Jerry said, handing me the bourbon.

  “Thanks, Jerry,” I said, standing up and accepting the glass.

  “There’s nothin’ like good friends,” Frank announced, holding his glass up.

  “Here, here,” I said.

  After toasting each other we sat and talked for a while. An hour or so later Marilyn decided to turn in. She kissed us each good night, but the kiss on Frank’s cheek could only be described as a peck. She kissed Jerry on the cheek, and hugged him around the neck, not letting him get up. Then she came to me and pressed her silky cheek to mine, then kissed me at the corner of my mouth. After a moment she looked me right in the eyes and said breathily, “Good night, Eddie.”

  “Night, kid.”

  She went off to bed and we had another drink. Then Jerry announced he was going to turn in.

  “Want George to show you the way, Jerry?” Frank asked.

  “No, thanks, Mr. S., I can find it. I just gotta walk past the plaque that says ‘President Kennedy Slept Here.’ Night Mr. G.”

  “Night, Jerry.”

  “Guess I’ll have to move that plaque when Jack sleeps in the new wing,” Frank said. “Want another drink, Eddie?”

  “I think I’m done, Frank.”

  “Aw, c’mon, one more. I wanna talk to you about a couple of things.”

  “Okay, one more.”

  “I’ll get ‘em,” Frank said, getting up from his lounge chair and quickly going inside. He was back in a few moments with two drinks.

  “What do you need, Frank?” I asked.

  “This thing with Marilyn,” he said be fallin’ for you.”

  “Aw, come on, Frank. I’m not a ballplayer, or a playwright, or … or you.”

  “She don’t care about that,” he said. “Right now you’re the man in her life, the one she’s clinging to. I played that role for a while, but I couldn’t cut it. Joe D., he still tries even though they’re divorced. But it’s you, right now. Be careful.”

  “Frank, I’m not gonna get involved with her. I mean, I’m not gonna sleep with her.”

  He laughed. “How you gonna resist if she throws herself at you?”

  “She’s too fragile, Frank,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt her, and I don’t know if I could handle her full time, you know?”

  “Believe me, I know. Look, I’m just givin’ you a friendly warning. What you do is your business.”

  “I appreciate it, Frank.”

  Frank remained standing, looking out over the pool. I didn’t know if he was staring at the construction work, or … just staring.

  “Hey, Frank, what happened with that book you were readin’ last year? You were thinkin’ of makin’ it into a movie?” I tried lightening the mood.

  “Which one?”

  “The detective one.”

  “Oh, Miami Mayhem, the one about the private eye, Tony Rome.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “Well I’d like to make it, but it’s gonna have to wait. I got a lot of films comin’ up, and I’m readin’ this other book called Von Ryan’s Express that I’d really like to do, but …”

  “But what?”

  He looked at me.

  “I’ve been makin’ movies left and right since From Here to Eternity. Most of them made money, some of them were even good. Guess I was thinkin’ make ‘em while I can, you know? Ya never know when it could all be taken away from you … again.”

  I was uncomfortable. I’d never seen Frank anything but confident.

  “Lately I’m thinkin’ I should just stick to what I do best, you know? I’m a saloon singer. Maybe I should leave the movies to other guys.”

  “You can’t do that, Frank.”

  “Why not?”

  “People love your films,” I said. “Jesus, Some Came Running, Pal Joey, Johnny Concho-”

  “Concho,” Frank said. “Wow, there was a stinker.”

  “I like that movie!” I said indignantly.

  “Really?”

  “What about Guys and Dolls?”

  “That was Brando’s movie.”

  “High Society?”

  “Fluff,” he said, “somebody wanted me and Crosby in a movie together, but who was lookin’ at us when Grace Kelly was on the screen?”

  “Okay then, The Man with the Golden Arm. You were great in that!”

  “Yeah, okay, that was a good one.”

  “See? You gotta keep makin’ movies, Frank.”

  “Well, a lot is gonna depend on the one I just finished.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s called The Manchurian Candidate. It’s a little different than anything else I’ve done. It’s got a message.”

  He explained the plot to me and, of course, neither of us knew at the time that it would some day make a list of the top one hundred movies of all time.

  “Sounds like a classic, Frank.
”

  “Yeah, right,” he said, laughing. “Like a bum like me could make a classic film.”

  “What’s the difference then?” I asked. “You entertain people. You make them happy with your movies, and your records.”

  “You’re makin’ me feel good, pally,” he said, laughing again.

  “How’s it goin’ with Juliet?”

  He looked into his drink. “She’s a sweet kid, but that’s not gonna work out.”

  Great, I thought, now I had brought him down … again.

  “And how’s Ava?”

  “Ava’s Ava,” he said. “Gorgeous, and maddening. Maybe I should just stick to hookers and show girls, Eddie.”

  “Frank-”

  “Ya know, I think it’s time for me to turn in,” he said. “Thanks for listening, Eddie. You’re aces, ya know that, kid?”

  “I should be aces, Frank,” I said, “I’m from Las Vegas.”

  Forty-two

  In the morning we had breakfast together and, before Jerry and I left, I called Fred Otash’s office. I had to remind his girl who I was before she’d put me through.

  “Mr. Gianelli,” he answered without saying hello, “I tried to call you last night.”

  “I’m in Palm Springs.”

  “Miss Monroe?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is she all right?”

  “For now. Why were you lookin’ for me? Any news?” I asked.

  “No,” he said, “just checking in, as I said I would. I have a couple of leads I’m going to follow up today. Will you be in later?”

  “Should be back in a couple of hours.”

  “Good,” he said. “I’ll call you then.”

  I hung up, told Jerry it was time to leave.

  “Hopefully,” I said to Marilyn, “you’ll be able to go home soon.”

  “I trust you, Eddie,” she said, hugging me.

  As we drove away I hoped that I would end up being worthy of that trust.

  “You promised you’d do what?” Jerry asked.

  “I told Marilyn I’d go and talk to Clark Gable’s widow to see if she blamed Marilyn for Gable’s death.”

  “And you think this woman is gonna agree to talk to you?”

  “I don’t know, Jerry,” I said. “But I won’t know until I ask. I hope she will.”