Table of Contents
Cover
The Rat Pack Mysteries from Robert J. Randisi
Title Page
Copyright
Epigraph
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Epilogue
The Rat Pack Mysteries from Robert J. Randisi
EVERYBODY KILLS SOMEBODY SOMETIME
LUCK BE A LADY, DON’T DIE
HEY THERE (YOU WITH THE GUN IN YOUR HAND)
YOU’RE NOBODY ’TIL SOMEBODY KILLS YOU
I’M A FOOL TO KILL YOU *
FLY ME TO THE MORGUE *
IT WAS A VERY BAD YEAR *
YOU MAKE ME FEEL SO DEAD *
THE WAY YOU DIE TONIGHT *
* available from Severn House
THE WAY YOU DIE TONIGHT
A ‘Rat Pack’ Mystery
Robert J. Randisi
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
First published in Great Britain 2013 by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of
9-15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey SM1 1DF.
First published in the USA 2014 by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS of
110 East 59th Street, New York, N.Y. 10022
eBook edition first published in 2014 by Severn House Digital
an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited
Copyright © 2013 by Robert J. Randisi.
The right of Robert J. Randisi to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Randisi, Robert J. author.
The way you die tonight.
(A Rat Pack mystery; 9)
1. Rat Pack (Entertainers) – Fiction.
2. Gianelli, Eddie (Fictitious character) – Fiction.
3. Hughes, Howard, 1905-1976 – Fiction.
4. Casinos – Nevada – Las Vegas Fiction.
5. Missing persons – Investigation – Fiction.
6. Detective and mystery stories.
I. Title II. Series
813.6-dc23
ISBN-13: 978-07278-8334-6 (cased)
ISBN-13: 978-17801-0477-5 (ePub)
Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.
This ebook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland
‘The Way You Look Tonight’
Jerome Kern
Lyrics by Dorothy Fields
To Marthayn
I love the way you look every night!
PROLOGUE
December, 2007
‘Where’s your Messiah now?’
With all the gangster movies Edward G. Robinson made during his career it was this line, uttered in Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments, for which he is well known. For years comics would use it when impersonating Robinson. ‘Dathan’ was as famous a role for him as ‘Rico’ in Little Caesar and ‘Rocco’ in Key Largo.
I was at home in my living room, watching The Ten Commandments on Turner Classic Movies, as part of a birthday tribute to Edward G. Robinson, who had been born on December 12th, 1893. I had already seen Key Largo and Little Caesar, and next – after Heston was done chewing the scenery – they were going to finish the day with the movie he did with Frank Sinatra in 1959, A Hole in the Head. In it, Frank and Eddie play brothers who don’t get along very well, even though they love each other. In point of fact, Frank and Edward G. were friends.
That wasn’t the only movie they had made together, though. Eddie had also appeared briefly in Robin and the 7 Hoods, one of the Rat Pack movies that was released in 1964. He had an uncredited part as ‘Big Jim Stevens’, a part he played as a favor to Frank.
I was missing one, though, a film I thought they should surely have included, except at the time it hadn’t been made as an Edward G. Robinson movie. The Cincinnati Kid was a Steve McQueen picture, but as far as I was concerned, Eddie stole that film as the old poker pro ‘Lancey Howard’.
Frank Sinatra was the Chairman of the Board.
Steve McQueen was the King of Cool.
Edward G. Robinson was Little Caesar.
The three men were connected by celluloid.
Frank wrote Steve McQueen into his 1959 film Never So Few when, incensed over something Sammy Davis said in an interview, he wrote Sammy out. Sammy eventually earned Frank’s forgiveness but the film had been McQueen’s big break. Since then he had become a major star in films like The Great Escape, Baby the Rain Must Fall and Love With the Proper Stranger.
I had first met Edward G. Robinson in the Fall of 1964 when he was researching The Cincinnati Kid role. Frank had convinced him to come to Sin City to learn everything he could about poker, and to spend some relaxing time with Frank, Dino and Sammy. Because I was friends with the guys, and because Robinson and I shared an ‘Eddie G.’ persona, it was only natural that we would meet. Add to that Jack Entratter’s determination to make sure Edward G. Robinson had everything he wanted, and the old master and I ended up spending some time together.
These days I spent a lot of time in my condo, which was furnished in what designers would call a spartan manner. I had an easy chair – not a recliner – that I’d settle into, usually with a cup of tea, or something stronger, so I could watch some of my old friends on TCM.
I finished watching the DeMille masterpiece, and then had about fifteen minutes before the next movie started. My kitchen was the kind with ‘ette’ on the end of the word, with a small oven, a refrigerator, and a tiny counter. I got myself some crackers and cheese, and then tonight a small bourbon. One drink at night usually served to relax and help me sleep, when simple tea didn’t do the job. (Octogenarians need help sleeping, sometimes.)
While I waited for the next film to start, I took the time to drift back and think about everything that had happened in that Fall of 1964 …
ONE
Las Vegas
Fall, 1964
I was watching a high-stakes poker game that was going on in one of the Sands’ large suites. Having put some of our ‘whales’ – our biggest and richest clients – together for this game, Entratter had assigned me to watch and keep the peace. This was not only a clash of bankrolls, it was a clash of egos, as well. According to Entratter, nobody handled big egos like I did. Faint praise.
I was standing off to one side, watching the five men at the poker table – six if you count the dealer. There wasn’t a lot of talking during a game like this, not with thousands of dollars at stake.
Three of the players were regulars. The other two I’d found to round out the game. I hadn’t wanted to bring them in, because I didn’t know them, but Entratter wanted the game to come off, so reluctantly I recruited them.
I watched the two new players carefully for the first couple of hours. Everything seemed on the up-and-up. When the relief dealer came in – a pretty girl named Laura – the players continued to pay attention to their cards.
The regulars were Dan Roburt, a big time gambler in his fifties; Harry Devlin, about sixty, a millionaire businessman who came to town twice a year to blow a bundle; William Landry, a hotshot producer from Hollywood, at the top of his game at forty, who came to Vegas to indulge all his vices: gambling and drinking. I heard he was never drunk when he was working, but it seemed to me he was always drinking when he gambled. And yet, when he lost it wasn’t because of that. He was just a terrible poker player.
The newcomers were Sam Temple, in his forties, and Carl Butler, also in his forties. I didn’t know much more about them, except that they played for high stakes. When I offered them a chance at a big game, they jumped at it. As far as I could tell, they had never previously met.
Aside from me and the dealer, the room had a bartender, and a security man named Kendrick. Entratter would drop in a time or two.
‘I hear Edward G. Robinson and Steve McQueen are makin’ a movie about poker,’ Devlin said.
‘That’s what I hear,’ Landry, the producer said, ‘but how do you know that?’
‘Easy,’ Devlin said. ‘They tried to recruit me as an investor.’
‘No go?’ Landry asked. ‘Don’t like investing in movies?’
‘I don’t mind that,’ Devlin said, ‘but I lose enough money at poker without investing in a poker movie.’
‘Don’t think it’ll be any good?’
‘Steve McQueen?’ Devlin said. ‘He’s a punk. And Robinson is over the hill. That’s got flop written all over it.’
I didn’t agree, but I wasn’t there to partake in the conversation. Neither were they, for that matter. They got back to the game, and conversation was once again at a bare minimum, limited to ‘open’, ‘raise’ and ‘fold’.
During hour four Entratter put in an appearance. He used a key to come in. If he’d knocked Kendrick would have gone to the door, answered it with his hand on his gun.
Entratter came over and stood next to me.
‘How’s it goin’?’
‘The regulars are cleaning up,’ I said. ‘And by that I mean Devlin and Roburt. Landry’s making his usual donation. Temple and Butler are being fleeced.’
‘But is everybody happy?’
‘Happy as they can be,’ I said. ‘Have you heard anything about a poker movie with Steve McQueen?’
‘Yeah,’ Jack said, ‘The Cincinnati Kid.’
‘With Edward G. Robinson?’
‘And Ann-Margret.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘she gets around.’
It had only been months since Ann-Margret was in Vegas with Elvis making Viva Las Vegas.
‘She’s movin’ up,’ Entratter said.
‘McQueen is a step up from Elvis?’
‘In the movies, yes.’
‘Hmm.’
‘They got along on Never So Few. And that movie gave him a big lift up. He got a three-picture deal after that.’
‘So he owes Frank.’
‘Lots of people owe Frank.’
‘I know.’
‘How’s Kendrick?’
‘Alert.’
‘I’ll send somebody up to relieve him in a couple of hours.’
‘And me?’
‘I want you here the whole time.’
‘Then you better send up some coffee.’
‘OK.’
He walked to the door and let himself out. Kendrick followed him and made sure the door was locked. He nodded to me and went back to his position. He had not had a drink since the game started. I’d had a Coke. I walked over and stood next to him.
‘Entratter’s going to send up some coffee and, in a couple of hours, some relief for you.’
‘I could use both,’ he admitted.
Kendrick had been working at the Sands for eight months. This was not the first time our jobs had crossed, but it wasn’t a regular thing. We didn’t know each other all that well.
I went back to my position.
TWO
The coffee arrived within half an hour. Kendrick answered the knock on the door and allowed a waiter to wheel in a cart with an urn and enough cups for anyone interested. All of the players imbibed except for Landry, who kept drinking scotch. I had a cup, and so did Kendrick. The bartender eyed the urn, so I told him to have a cup, too.
When there was a knock on the door again, Kendrick assumed it was his relief. Either that or a waiter to remove the coffee urn. He walked to the door and put his hand on the knob. I wanted to be more careful, though.
‘Wait a minute—’ I said, but he didn’t react. Instead, he opened the door.
‘I’m here to relieve you,’ a man said, entering the room.
‘I don’t know you—’ Kendrick started to say, but suddenly the other man had a gun in his hand and he cold-cocked him.
Another man came into the room behind the first. It was the waiter who had brought the coffee. He was also holding a gun.
‘Everybody relax,’ the first man said, as Kendrick went down, ‘and nobody will get hurt.’
I guess I should have relaxed, but instead I grabbed the coffee urn, yanked the top off and tossed the contents in the direction of the two gunmen. I did it without thinking, because if I had thought about it first, I probably wouldn’t have done it.
There wasn’t a lot of coffee left, but what there was of it was hot. It landed on the first man’s face. He dropped his gun and screamed, clawing at his eyes.
The second man was only partially scalded on the arm, but he wasn’t able to get out of the way of the urn. The big metal container slammed into him, driving him back several feet.
Before he could regain his balance I put my hands on the serving cart and ran at him. I drove it into him, driving him back even further, until he was pinned to the wall. His gun went flying and struck the floor. There was a metal tray on the table. I picked it up and slammed him on the head with it. His eyes rolled back and he slumped over the table.
The first man was still staggering around, his hand to his scorched face. His gun was also on the floor.
I ran over and bent down to pick up one of the guns.
‘Don’t!’ somebody said.
The voice came from the poker table. I looked and saw one of the players pointing a small, nickel-plated gun at me. It was Landry, the producer.
‘What the hell …’ I said.
‘Sorry, Eddie,’ he said, ‘but I needed the money.’ He backed away from the table to cover the other players. ‘Put all the money in the center.’
‘How you plan to take the money out, Landry?’ I asked. ‘Your two partners aren’t gonna be any help.’
‘So I won’t have to split with them, after all,’ Landry said.
‘What the hell?’ Devlin said. ‘I thought you were a big shot producer?’
‘So did I,’ Landry said. ‘Turns out one bad movie can put your career in the crapper. You!’ he shouted to the bartender.
‘Me?’
‘Yeah, you,’ Landry said. ‘Find something to put the money in and collect it all.’
The buy-in was a hundred grand. That meant there was half a million dollars in the room. But I was wondering where Landry had gotten his buy-in if he was broke enough to want to rob the game?
‘Like what?’ the bartender asked.
‘A bag,’ Landry said. ‘A box. Something. Come on!’
‘You can’t do this,’ Dan Roburt said. ‘You’ll never get away with it.’
‘They were supposed to do it,’ Landry said. ‘I just told them about the game. But they blew it, so it’s on me now.’
‘But you didn’t plan on this, Landry,’ I said. ‘Mr Roburt is right. You can’t get away with this. This is the Sands, for Chrissake. You know who owns this casino.’
Landry was sweating, and fidgeting. He was starting to realize the position he was in.
‘You’ll never get out of the building,’ I said. ‘If you do, you’ll never get out of Vegas.’
The Way You Die Tonight Page 1
