I'm a Fool to Kill You

by Robert Randisi

  ‘No,’ I said, without hesitation, ‘I have no idea, at all.’

  Hargrove sat back again.

  ‘And why don’t I believe you?’

  SIXTY-ONE

  ‘Look, Hargrove,’ I said, ‘I know you think I’m up to my ears in the Mafia, but I’m just a pit boss at the Sands who does favors for some famous clients.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘and I’m Sherlock Holmes.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about two button men from Chicago gettin’ wasted in Vegas,’ I said. ‘That stuff’s not part of my life.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘you and dead bodies, you just happen to fall over each other. I’m trackin’ your buddy through the airlines. When I find out that he’s here, I’ll be lookin’ for you again – and him. So don’t make me look too hard.’

  ‘Am I done here?’ I asked, standing up.

  ‘Yeah, you’re done. Stay in town. Stay available.’

  ‘Look,’ I said, ‘I can just about guarantee that you’re not gonna find that Jerry Epstein flew here from New York.’

  ‘Why?’ Hargrove asked. ‘Did he drive?’

  That was too close to the truth and I’d already told enough lies.

  ‘Next time you want to talk to me, you better do it through Jack Entratter’s lawyer.’

  ‘Yeah, hide behind your hood boss and tell me you’re not mobbed up, Eddie.’

  ‘Fuck you, Hargrove,’ I said, and got out of there before he could decide to toss me in a cell just to be a dick.

  I didn’t want to go to my house just in case somebody was watchin’ it – cop or otherwise. I drove to the Sands and went up to Entratter’s office. It was after hours and his girl was gone, so I sat at her desk and used the phone to call Jerry. I told him about my conversation with Hargrove.

  ‘He’s tryin’ to track you through the airline, Jerry,’ I said. ‘Eventually he’ll find out you flew to L.A. And from there it’s no big leap for him to figure you drove here, even for a lunkhead like him.’

  ‘It don’t matter, Mr G.,’ Jerry said. ‘He can’t prove it, and he don’t know that you was in L.A.’

  ‘You’re right,’ I said – I hoped. ‘How’s Ava?’

  ‘Beatin’ me at gin again – and one of her movies is on TV later, so we’re gonna watch it.’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘The Killers.’

  That was the one based on a Hemingway short story, with Burt Lancaster. Her hair was long and luxurious in that film and she looked amazing. That was also when she became friends with the writer.

  ‘Wait – what?’ he said to Ava. ‘Oh, she wants ta know if you’re comin’ back tonight.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘Jerry, did you make some calls to Chicago?’

  ‘Yeah, Mr G., but I got no answers yet. I should be gettin’ some answers tomorrow.’

  I didn’t think there was any danger in his making those calls from Tony’s cabin, so I didn’t protest.

  ‘Since those two guys were from Chicago, somebody should know somethin’, right?’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mr G.,’ he said.

  ‘OK. I’m gonna stick around the Sands tonight, but I’ll be out there tomorrow.’

  ‘See ya then. And watch your back.’

  ‘I think I’m starting to get pretty good at that, Jerry.’

  I called Jack Entratter’s suite next.

  ‘Where the hell are you now?’ he asked.

  ‘In your office,’ I said. ‘I just got back from talkin’ to Hargrove.’

  ‘What the hell does he want?’

  ‘He didn’t tell you?’

  ‘No, all he said was that he wanted to talk to you.’

  ‘Well, he’ll probably talk to you next.’

  ‘About what?’

  I told him how two guys from Chicago had been killed in their car, and why Hargrove was trying to connect me to the killings.

  ‘That sounds like a half-ass reason to suspect you of murder,’ he said. ‘And he doesn’t even know that Jerry’s in Vegas?’

  ‘No. He’s gonna track him to L.A., but the trail will stop there.’

  ‘Eddie,’ Entratter said, ‘you and Jerry didn’t have anythin’ to do – no, wait, don’t tell me. If you don’t tell me then I won’t be lyin’ to Hargrove when I tell him I don’t know nothin’.’

  I didn’t comment. I didn’t really want to lie to Jack, either.

  ‘You got Ava stashed someplace safe, right?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, with Jerry. And I’ll be there tomorrow.’

  ‘You want me to make some calls to Chicago?’

  ‘Jerry’s makin’ calls, but it wouldn’t hurt if you did too.’

  ‘My calls will be a little further up the food chain,’ Entratter said. ‘Where can I get in touch with you?’

  ‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ I said. ‘How about one?’

  ‘I’ll be at my desk,’ he said. ‘Watch your ass, Eddie. Hargrove’s had a hard-on for you for a couple of years now.’

  ‘Don’t I know it.’

  I hung up, remained seated at the desk. With Jerry and Entratter both calling Chicago we should have word soon on who sent the two goons to Vegas. Once we knew that, we should also know who was after Ava. What we still had to find out was why.

  I started to get up, then slapped my forehead. I hadn’t checked with Penny to find out if she’d heard from Danny. But at this time of night? And if he had tried to get me during the day, I had no idea who to check with about a message. Just on the off chance, though, I called the front desk of the hotel and asked if there were any messages for me. The clerk on duty said he didn’t see anything.

  I left the office and went up to the room I used when I slept at the Sands. As soon as I walked in I stepped on something and looked down. It was a pink message slip. I closed the door and picked it up. It was from the front desk, which explained why the clerk hadn’t known about it. It had already been delivered.

  I sat down on the bed and unfolded it, figuring it was from Danny. It wasn’t. It read: ‘You ain’t out of the woods yet, Eddie.’

  It wasn’t signed.

  SIXTY-TWO

  I slept fitfully. I didn’t like the idea that someone knew which door to slide a message underneath – a threatening one at that. I probably should have changed rooms, but I was tired – so tired.

  I got up early the next morning, had breakfast in the coffee shop, then went to the front desk.

  Sean was working and I asked him about the message.

  ‘I swear, Eddie, it wasn’t me. I didn’t take a message, or slide one under your door.’

  ‘OK, then somebody grabbed a sheet of your paper,’ I said. ‘Who? Did you see anyone hangin’ around the desk yesterday?’

  He thought a moment, said, ‘No, not really.’

  ‘OK, what do you mean “not really”?’

  ‘Well, there was somebody hangin’ around the desk, but he wasn’t suspicious.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because he was flirting with Rose.’

  We both looked over at Rose, a stunning blonde who worked behind the desk and had a jealous husband. Who wouldn’t flirt with her? And what better ruse to not seem suspicious, waiting for your chance to grab a slip?

  ‘You can ask her about him, but I know for a fact that she never remembers guys who flirt with her. She puts them out of her mind.’

  ‘I’ll ask her anyway,’ I said. ‘Maybe there was something memorable about this one.’

  ‘There was something memorable about him,’ Rose said, moments later.

  ‘What was it?’

  ‘He was a creep,’ she said. ‘He wasn’t charming at all. He was smarmy and made me feel dirty.’

  ‘Why didn’t you have him tossed out?’

  She lowered her eyes.

  ‘I can’t have every man who flirts with me thrown out, Eddie,’ she said.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘we wouldn’t have any men in the place. Can you tell me what he looked like?’

>   ‘I guess some women would think he was good-looking. He had strong features, an almost hawk-like nose, slicked back black hair – oh, and he had a pinky ring on, with a big diamond. I think I was supposed to be impressed.’

  ‘OK, Rose. Thanks.’

  ‘Have I gotten myself in trouble, Eddie?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘You didn’t do anythin’ wrong. Don’t worry about it.’

  She’d just described every would-be wise guy who ever came out of Chicago and New York.

  Damn it, what had Ava gotten herself into?

  I was wishing Danny would call with some information or, at least, Jerry, when Sean called my name.

  ‘I got a call for you.’

  ‘Who is it?’ I asked, hoping it was Danny.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, ‘but he says it’s important. About somebody named Danny Bardini?’

  With a cold feeling in the pt of my stomach I grabbed the phone and put it to my ear.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Eddie?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘’ey, how you doin’?’ the voice asked. A familiar voice, too, one I wasn’t expecting to hear. ‘You know who this is?’

  ‘Yeah, I know, Mo—’

  ‘No names!’ Sam ‘Momo’ Giancana growled.

  SIXTY-THREE

  Giancana told me to get to a phone I felt secure with and call him back. To me that meant nothing in Jack’s office, and nothing in the Sands. In fact, nothing in any casino. I told him I’d get to a pay phone, hung up and left the casino. I walked a couple of blocks to a phone booth outside a gift shop. But before I called Momo back, I called Jerry.

  ‘No, Mr G., I didn’t call Mr Giancana. But I called some guys who work for him. They said the two dead guys wasn’t with any crew. They freelanced, but they wasn’t really good enough to be with a real crew.’

  ‘Well, somehow Momo heard about it,’ I said. ‘And he wants to talk to me about Danny.’

  ‘Did Danny go to Chicago?’

  ‘I don’t know, probably.’

  ‘Maybe he got himself in trouble again,’ he said, referring to Danny’s problems earlier in the year.

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I guess there’s only one way to find out.’

  ‘Let me know what happens, Mr G.,’ he said. It sounded like Momo Giancana even made Big Jerry nervous.

  I hung up and dialed Giancana, who I assumed was waiting by a secure line.

  He picked up on the second ring.

  ‘What took ya so long?’ he asked. It wasn’t a demand, just curiosity.

  ‘I had to find a phone booth,’ I said. ‘What can I do for you, Mr Giancana?’

  ‘It has come to my attention that you’ve had some trouble with a couple of boys from Chicago.’

  ‘Um, well, that’s not really somethin’ I’d want to confirm, right now.’

  ‘Hey, Eddie,’ he said, ‘you’re talkin’ ta me, not the cops, Capice?’

  ‘Yeah, I understand, but—’

  ‘Lemme tell you what I know,’ he said, cutting me off. ‘You’re tryin’ ta help out Ava Gardner, who’s had some problems of her own, but now your problems and hers are the same. Hey, ya know what?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We can’t be doin’ this over the phone. You come here to Chicago, we’ll go have some dinner, hit the Ambassador, and see if we can’t solve everybody’s problems. Maybe catch Sammy at the Chez Paree.’

  ‘You want me to come to see you?’

  ‘Sure. Is that a problem? Jack Entratter gives ya time off, don’t he?’

  ‘Well, sure—’

  ‘I mean, like when ya gotta help Frank and Dino?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So ya fly out here and I’ll see ya tomorrow. Somebody’ll pick you up at O’Hare.’

  ‘Uh, Mr Giancana—’

  ‘Hey, just call me Momo, hah?’

  ‘OK, Momo, did you say something to the desk clerk about Danny Bardini?’

  ‘Oh, your buddy the P.I.? Yeah, he’s my guest. He was askin’ some questions and it got back ta me. Also, I heard Jerry Epstein was makin’ some calls and me, I talked to Jack Entratter. Ay, I’m gettin’ it from all sides. But you, you’re the horses mout’, so I figured I’d get the story straight from you.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘So I’ll see ya tomorrow, Eddie G.,’ Momo said. ‘First flight inna mornin’, hah?’

  ‘If I can get on it I’ll—’

  ‘You try,’ he said, before hanging up, ‘real hard.’

  I thought it over for a while before I finally called Frank in Tahoe. I didn’t know if he was still there, didn’t know if he was in his cabin, but I was leaving it up to fate. If he answered, I’d ask him what I was thinking of asking him.

  He answered.

  ‘Hey, Frank, it’s Eddie.’

  ‘What’s up? Ava OK?’

  ‘So far,’ I said, ‘but I just got off the phone with Momo. He wants me to come to Chicago.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’ve been askin’ questions about some Chicago button men,’ I said.

  ‘There are some assholes from Chicago after Ava?’ Frank asked. ‘Is that what you’re tryin’ to tell me?’

  ‘I’m still lookin’ into it, Frank, but I’ve got a question for you.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Momo,’ I said. ‘He seems to have Danny. Do I have any reason not to go and see him?’

  Frank hesitated before answering.

  ‘If he wanted Danny dead, he’s dead already, Eddie,’ he said. ‘If he wanted you dead, you’d be dead, too. I don’t think he’d invite you – he did invite you, didn’t he?’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I don’t think he’d invite you to Chicago to bump you off. Is that what you’re worried about?’

  ‘That’s it.’

  ‘I’d say go,’ Frank said, ‘but I’ve got some help for you, if you want it.’

  ‘I want it.’

  ‘OK,’ he said. ‘I’ll make a call . . .’

  SIXTY-FOUR

  After hanging up on Frank I went back to the Sands. I had a few things to do before flying to Chicago. Jack Entratter agreed to get me on a flight, and cover for me if Hargrove came sniffing around while I was away.

  I called Jerry and told him and Ava that I wouldn’t be driving out the next morning because I was going to Chicago.

  ‘I should go with ya, Mr G.,’ Eddie said, sounding worried.

  ‘That’s OK, Jerry. Those guys weren’t sent by Momo, right?’

  ‘That’s the word I got,’ Jerry said. ‘But I still don’t know who did send ’em.’

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘maybe Momo can tell me.’

  ‘Wait, Miss Ava wants to talk to ya.’

  When Ava came on I could hear the anger in her tone.

  ‘Eddie, except for those lousy hours I have a perfect memory. And I have never had anything to do with Sam Giancana. I hate that animal.’

  ‘But he and Frank are friends.’

  ‘That was something Frank and I always argued about,’ she said. ‘I didn’t like his mob friends. You be careful. That man is vicious.’

  ‘I’ll be OK, Ava,’ I said. ‘I had a sit down with Momo once before, and I walked away from that alive.’

  ‘That’s only because he let you,’ she said. ‘Don’t get over-confident.’

  ‘Believe me, Ava,’ I said, ‘when dealin’ with these people I am anything but over-confident.’

  She put Jerry back on the line.

  ‘Gimme a call from Chicago, Mr G. . . . if you can.’

  ‘I like your optimism, Jerry. Keep your eyes open.’

  ‘Gotcha, Mr G.’

  When I got off the plane at O’Hare the crush of humanity reminded me of New York airports. A nervous feeling erupted in the pit of my stomach which had more to do with me never wanting to go back to Brooklyn to see my family. I had to do it earlier in the year when my mother died, but that convinced me never again. If anybody
else in my family died they could send me a postcard and tell me about it.

  I went to the baggage claim to grab my suitcase and headed for the exit. I hadn’t reached it when I saw a man standing with a piece of cardboard with ‘EDDIE G.’ written on it. He had wide-shoulders stuffed into a cheap suit, stood about five-five. He looked like an ice box in pinstripes.

  ‘I’m Eddie G.,’ I said, standing in front of him.

  He lowered the cardboard, looked me up and down.

  ‘You want I.D.?’ I asked.

  ‘Mr Giancana says I should bring ya.’

  ‘Bring me where? Do I get to register at a hotel?’

  ‘Mr Giancana says to bring ya right away,’ the goon said. ‘He says maybe ya won’t need a hotel room.’

  He said that with no trace of humor in his eyes. There could only be two reasons I wouldn’t need a hotel: if I was going home right away, or . . . I didn’t like the second one.

  ‘Well, OK,’ I said, looking around. ‘You better bring me then.’

  He nodded. I waited for him to take my suitcase, but he just turned and walked away. I was staring at his broad back when I heard my name.

  ‘Hey! Eddie G.. How you doin’, babe?’

  I turned and saw Sammy Davis Jr. walking toward me in that cool, bouncy way he had. Apparently, Frank had made that call he was talking about.

  The ice box turned around and frowned.

  ‘Sammy Davis,’ I said to him. ‘An old friend of mine.’

  Sammy reached me and we shook hands. He was as dapper as ever in a suit and tie.

  ‘What’s shakin’, baby?’ he asked. ‘Whataya doin’ in the Windy City?’

  ‘I’m on my way to see Sam Giancana,’ I said. ‘He invited me.’

  ‘Uncle Sam? I ain’t seen him in a while. Mind if I tag along? I was supposed to meet somebody here, but they stood me up.’

  I went along with the scam.

  ‘It’s OK with me, Sam,’ I said.

  The ice box walked back to us.

  ‘Mr Giancana didn’t say nothin’ about him,’ he said.

  ‘Hey, baby,’ Sammy said to him. ‘Me and Uncle Sam go way back. Sam and Sam, ya know? Maybe you wanna call him and tell him you left me behind? Or how about we call my other good friend, Frank Sinatra? And we let him call Uncle Sam?’