I'm a Fool to Kill You

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I'm a Fool to Kill You Page 6

by Robert Randisi


  ‘Uninviting you?’ I asked.

  She nodded.

  ‘I can’t blame them, really,’ she said. ‘Since then I have been all over Europe, to New York, here in L.A. and then . . . nothing.’

  ‘What do you mean, nothing?’

  ‘I mean, I can’t remember. I . . . blacked out. And I woke up in a hotel room in Chicago.’

  ‘What hotel?’

  ‘The Drake, I think.’

  ‘And what else?’

  ‘I had . . . blood on my hands.’

  ‘Blood? Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I washed it off. I checked my clothes. There was blood there, too.’

  ‘Where are those clothes?’

  ‘I . . . packed them for some reason, but when I got here I threw them in the back of the closet in the bedroom.’

  ‘Wait here.’

  I went into the bedroom to the closet. In the back, on the floor, in a crumpled mess I found a blouse and a bra, both stained with what looked like blood. But there was also a silk nightie with blood on it, as well. And the towel she must have used to dry her hands was stained red. I wrapped the blouse, bra and nightie in the towel and left them there, then went back to her.

  ‘Was I dreaming that too?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘There’s blood on them all right.’

  ‘Oh God . . .’

  I crouched down in front of her and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look me in the eyes.

  ‘Come on, Ava. Think. What happened?’

  ‘I . . . don’t know. I have been thinking for the past three days. I can’t recall.’

  ‘All right,’ I said, ‘tell me this. How much time did you lose in this blackout?’

  ‘I . . . I figured it was about forty hours.’

  Eight hours shy of two days. A lot of damage could be done in that much time.

  I was about to ask another question when there was a knock at the door.

  ‘Eddie!’ She became very frightened.

  ‘Go into the bedroom,’ I told her. ‘Stay there. It might just be a bell boy coming for the dishes, but don’t come out. You’ll be able to hear what’s being said.’

  ‘All right.’

  She hurried into the bedroom, leaving the door ajar.

  EIGHTEEN

  I opened the door, half expecting and fully hoping it would be Randy, the bell boy. It wasn’t. It was two guys in suits with ‘cop’ written across their foreheads.

  ‘Are you Eddie Gianelli?’ one of them asked.

  ‘Who’s askin’?’

  They both showed me their nice shiny detective badges.

  ‘L.A.P.D.,’ one of them said. ‘Detectives Reasoner and Crider.’

  ‘Which is which?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m Reasoner,’ the spokesman said. He was a little shorter and broader than his partner, but they were both about the same age, mid-forties. My guess was they had been partners for a long time. ‘Would you mind coming with us?’

  ‘What’s this about?’ I asked.

  ‘A cab driver named Larry Carver,’ Crider said. ‘Although, it seems somebody might have thought he was you.’

  ‘I see. Couldn’t I come down to headquarters in the morning and make a statement?’

  ‘I’m afraid we’re on the job now, Mr Gianelli,’ Crider said. ‘We need you to come now. I’m sure your friend, Miss Johnson, won’t mind.’

  It seemed they didn’t know that Lucy Johnson was Ava Gardner. That was good.

  ‘Would you mind if I tell her where I’m going?’ I asked. ‘She’s in the, uh, bedroom.’

  The two men exchanged a glance that wasn’t hard to read.

  ‘Sure,’ Reasoner said, ‘go ahead.’

  ‘Can I tell her when I’ll be back?’

  ‘Before morning,’ Crider said, then added, ‘probably.’

  ‘Probably,’ I said, nodding. ‘Thanks. I’ll be right back.’

  ‘Wouldn’t be another way out in that bedroom, would there, Mr Gianelli?’

  ‘Actually, there isn’t,’ I said, ‘but why would that thought occur to you, Detective? I haven’t done anything I should be running away from.’

  ‘That’s good to hear,’ Reasoner said. ‘We’ll just wait here, sir.’

  Those detectives were being a little too nice, for my taste. Not what I was used to from the Vegas cops.

  I backed away into the bungalow, but left the front door wide open. I walked into the bedroom, kept that door closed. Ava rushed up to me.

  ‘Who is it, Eddie?’

  ‘It’s the police,’ I said, ‘they want to talk to me about what happened outside earlier tonight.’

  ‘That man who was beat up?’

  ‘I think so,’ I said, ‘but I’ll have to go with them to find out for sure. I’ll be back in a little while.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘I mean, are you sure you should go with them?’

  ‘I don’t think they’re asking, Ava,’ I said.

  ‘Do they know about me?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘they referred to you as Lucy Johnson. They don’t know who you really are, and I think we should keep it that way.’

  ‘I think so too, Eddie.’

  ‘Unless you want the police to help you find out what happened, Ava.’

  ‘No!’ she said, eyes wide. ‘No, Eddie. For all I know . . . I hurt somebody. Or . . . or killed somebody. I can’t go to the police. There’d be publicity!’

  ‘OK, Ava, OK,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to get goin’ before they come lookin’ for me.’

  ‘Eddie—’ she said, and abruptly gave me a big hug. I held her tight and breathed in her scent. I found out later that she wore Acqua di Parma.

  ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  I left her standing in the middle of the bedroom.

  NINETEEN

  They didn’t take me to their headquarters, as I’d thought they would. They took me to the Cedars-Sinai Medical Center.

  ‘This is where the cab driver, Larry Carver, was taken after somebody worked him over,’ Reasoner said, as we got out of their car. ‘We understand he was waiting for you in the lounge?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Why?’ Crider asked.

  ‘He drove me there from the airport,’ I said. ‘I thought I’d need him, so I asked him to wait.’

  ‘Cabbies usually wait in the cab,’ Reasoner said, ‘with the meter running.’

  ‘I made a deal with him to come inside and wait,’ I said. ‘I was gonna use him for the rest of my errands.’

  ‘Your errands,’ Crider said, ‘we’ll get to those later, Mr Gianelli.’

  ‘Let’s go inside,’ Reasoner said.

  We entered the hospital through the front door, not the emergency entrance. Just inside we stopped.

  ‘This is as good a place as any,’ Reasoner said. ‘You took the cab from the airport?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘You mind tellin’ us where you came in from, Mr Gianelli?’

  ‘Las Vegas.’

  ‘Now we can get to your errands,’ Crider said. ‘What brought you to L.A.?’

  I’d had time in the car to think about what my answer would be if they asked this question.

  ‘There are several high rollers living here who owe the Sands quite a bit of money,’ I said. ‘I came to collect.’

  ‘Does the Sands usually send pit bosses to collect their debts?’ Crider asked. Of course, they had checked me out already and knew half the answers I was giving them – the true half.

  ‘They do when the players are whales,’ I said, ‘my whales. See, I brought these guys into the casino, I OK’d their increased credit lines, so my boss is holding me responsible for their debts.’

  ‘And if we asked you who these whales were, would you give us their names?’ Reasoner asked.

  ‘Only if I had to, Detective,’ I said. ‘My boss at the Sands wouldn’t like it’ />
  If they’d checked me out, like I thought they had, they knew who my boss was. They also knew he ran the Sands, and who he ran it for.

  ‘Let’s revisit that later,’ Reasoner said. ‘What do you think happened to your friend Larry, Gianelli?’

  He had dropped the ‘Mister,’ so I said, ‘Why don’t you just call me Eddie, Detective?’

  ‘Maybe we’ll get friendly later, Gianelli,’ Crider said. ‘Why don’t you just answer our questions for now?’

  ‘From what I hear,’ I said, ‘I was paged in the Polo Lounge for a phone call. Larry picked it up. Then he got beat up. I’d say either a pissed off fare got to him, or somebody thought he was me.’

  ‘Ah,’ Crider said, ‘and why would somebody want to put you in the hospital, Eddie?’ I guessed we were friends now.

  ‘I don’t know, Detective,’ I said.

  ‘Could it have been somebody working for one of the whales you were talking about?’ Reasoner asked.

  ‘It could have been, but I haven’t talked to any of them yet,’ I said, ‘so they don’t know I’m in town.’

  ‘And what were you doing at the Beverly Hills Hotel?’ Crider asked.

  ‘Getting a room.’

  ‘Is that where you usually stay when you come to town?’ Reasoner asked.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘but considering the caliber of people I’m here to talk to, my boss thought I should look the part.’

  ‘So that’s why you got a bungalow?’ Crider asked.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘But the bungalow is registered to Lucy Johnson,’ Reasoner said.

  ‘A lady friend of mine,’ I replied. ‘I called ahead and asked her to get the place, and meet me there.’

  ‘Killin’ two birds with one stone, Eddie?’ Reasoner asked.

  ‘So to speak, Detective.’

  ‘Let’s go upstairs and see your friend, Eddie,’ Crider said.

  ‘Are you guys thinkin’ there’s an off chance that I beat Larry up?’ I asked.

  ‘I guess that’s what he’ll tell us,’ Reasoner answered.

  ‘If he’s awake,’ his partner added.

  TWENTY

  He was awake.

  ‘Naw, it wasn’t him,’ Larry said when the cops asked him if I did it, ‘it was two guys, jumped me from outta the bushes.’

  ‘Did they say anything?’ Crider asked.

  ‘No,’ Larry said, ‘they just started whalin’ away on me.’

  ‘They use anything other than their fists?’ Reasoner asked.

  ‘I think they had blackjacks,’ Larry said. ‘One of them may have been wearin’ knucks. Oh, one had a big silver ring on his, uh, right hand. Right hand?’ He thought a moment. ‘Yeah, right. Had, like, a snake on it.’

  From the bruises on his jaw I figured he was right about the brass knuckles.

  ‘I’m sorry this happened, Larry,’ I said.

  ‘Wasn’t yer fault,’ he said, then asked, ‘was it?’

  ‘Could be you got beat up because you took that phone call for Mr Gianelli, Larry,’ Crider said. ‘Maybe those two guys thought you were him.’

  ‘Jeez,’ Larry said, ‘I been rackin’ my brains tryin’ ta figure out who’d wanna work me over.’

  ‘Any bad fares?’ Reasoner asked.

  ‘Naw,’ he said, ‘well, yeah, sure, but not this bad.’

  ‘Angry boyfriends or husbands?’ Crider asked.

  ‘I wish.’

  ‘Bookie?’ Reasoner asked.

  ‘I don’t bet.’

  ‘You got a wife that’s pissed at you?’ Crider asked.

  ‘Exes,’ Larry said, ‘two of ’em, but if they have me put in the hospital they don’t get no alimony.’

  ‘We better talk to them, anyway,’ Crider said. ‘Be good if we could figure out who the real target was.’

  Larry gave them the names and addresses of his ex-wives.

  ‘OK,’ Crider said, ‘I guess that’s it for now.’

  ‘We’ll talk to the two of you again,’ Reasoner said.

  ‘How about a ride back to the hotel?’ I asked.

  ‘Sorry,’ Crider said, ‘no can do.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Reasoner said, ‘you’ll have to take a cab.’

  Not so friendly anymore.

  ‘He can take mine,’ Larry said. ‘They tol’ me they brought it here and put it in the parking lot. Keys are in the drawer, here.’

  ‘That’s up to you, Larry,’ Reasoner said. ‘That cab’s your business. Up to you if you wanna let a stranger drive it.’

  ‘We’ll talk to you later,’ Crider said.

  They started for the door, then Crider turned and said, ‘Hey, Larry. Did you know what Eddie here was doin’ in the Beverly Hills Hotel?’

  We all waited for the answer.

  ‘Far as I know,’ Larry said, ‘he was getting’ a room.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Reasoner said, ‘far as you know.’

  The two detectives left.

  I walked to the door to make sure they weren’t loitering outside the room, then returned to Larry’s bedside.

  ‘Thanks for not mentioning Ava Gardner, Larry,’ I said.

  ‘Cops,’ Larry said, ‘can’t stand ’em. I really get beat up because I took that call?’

  ‘I don’t know, Larry,’ I said, ‘but I’m gonna try to find out. Meanwhile, your hotel bills here are gonna be covered, so don’t worry about that.’

  ‘I was wonderin’ how I rated a private room,’ he said. ‘You payin’?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘Frank Sinatra is.’

  His face was bruised and scraped, one arm was in a cast, and there was a bandage on his head, but his eyes bugged out and he looked excited.

  ‘For real?’

  ‘For real.’

  ‘Jeez . . .’

  ‘That call you took for me, Larry,’ I said. ‘Who was it from?’

  ‘Your boss,’ he said. ‘Sounded pissed off.’

  ‘He always sounds like that.’

  ‘He wanted you to call him when you got a chance.’

  ‘I will. Listen, about your cab . . . you don’t have to do that. I can catch—’

  ‘What the hell, ain’t doin’ me no good in the parking lot.’

  ‘I tell you what I’ll do,’ I said, ‘when I use it I’ll keep the meter running.’

  His eyes bugged again.

  ‘You gonna pay for that?’

  ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘Not Frank Sinatra, again.’

  ‘No, the Sands casino, in Vegas,’ I said. ‘That’s where I work.’

  ‘Vegas!’ he said. ‘I love Vegas.’

  ‘Well, you’re gonna love it even more when you get out, because you and a guest are gonna have a free week at the Sands.’

  ‘Jesus,’ he said, ‘that’s almost worth gettin’ pounded on.’

  ‘Larry,’ I said, ‘if you really did get worked over because somebody thought you were me, I’m gonna damn well make it worth your while, believe me.’

  I left Larry’s room with the keys to his cab in my pocket. I stopped at the front desk to talk to a doctor about Larry, found out he’d probably be ready to leave the hospital in about a week. The doctor said he was urinating blood on top of everything else. I told the doctor that the bills would be taken care of, to just send them to the Sands Hotel in Las Vegas, addressed to Eddie Gianelli. I also told him where I’d be and to call me if anything happened.

  I left the hospital, found Larry’s cab and drove it out of the parking lot. I kept checking the rearview mirror to see if anyone was on my tail, cops or not.

  TWENTY-ONE

  I should have thought to take a key to the bungalow with me, but I didn’t, so I had to knock when I got back. When Ava opened the door, she was wearing a red wig and sunglasses.

  ‘What’s with the get-up?’ I asked, stepping in and closing the door behind me.

  ‘I didn’t know who it would be,’ she said. ‘And just in case the police came back with you and wanted to talk to Lucy Johnson . . .’ Sh
e backed away and did a quick pirouette.

  ‘You make a good redhead, Lucy,’ I said.

  She took the wig off and said, ‘I’ll leave that to Rita Hayworth.’ She ran her hand through her short black hair, and took off the sunglasses. ‘How did it go?’

  ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘They took me to the hospital to see Larry, the cab driver.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Well, among other things they wanted to find out from him if I was the one who beat him up.’

  ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘That’s what they wanted to know, but Larry cleared me.’

  ‘Was he the driver who brought me here this morning?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Did he mention me?’

  ‘No, he kept mum.’

  ‘Is he being taken care of?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah, I’ve got his bills covered.’ I didn’t tell her Frank was paying. I don’t know why, exactly, I just didn’t.

  ‘It’s gettin’ late,’ I said. ‘Aren’t you sleepy?’

  ‘No, not yet,’ she said. ‘I had a nap, remember?’

  ‘Probably the first sleep you’ve had in days,’ I said. ‘Maybe you better lay down anyway.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’ll get a room somewhere—’

  ‘Stay here!’ she said, abruptly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I–I don’t want to be alone,’ she said. ‘While you were gone I kept hearing noises, kept thinking there was some fucking creep outside trying to break in.’

  ‘Ava, I can get a room in the hotel—’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘I don’t just want you nearby. I want you close. I want you here, Eddie.’

  ‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’ll sleep out here on the sofa.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ she said. ‘We’re adults, and there’s a large bed in the bedroom. We’ll share it—’

  ‘I don’t know—’

 

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