‘OK with me,’ he said. ‘I’ll think on it too and we can talk at breakfast.’
I looked at my watch. It was 4 a.m.
‘Let’s meet in the Garden Café at nine a.m.’
Jerry nodded and headed down the strip. I watched the marquees go by, Alan King at the Riviera, Della Reese at the Desert Inn and, as we approached the Sands marquee, Nat King Cole. When we passed the Sahara I saw Dino’s name all lit up, and it reminded me that he was in town doing a show.
Things were changing in Vegas. Howard Hughes wasn’t the only person with money who was trying to move in. The mob’s hold on the casinos was not as strong as it had once been. The Rat Pack was not as close knit a group as it once was. Peter Lawford was on the outs, Joey Bishop was busy with his TV show, Sammy and Frank were on shaky ground. The only thing that was certain in their world was that Frank and Dino were friends – each other’s friend, and mine.
But the marquees went on, the neon lights shone brighter than ever, and I was on the verge of some sort of new position. All I had to do was find a killer, and ward off Howard Hughes’ clutches.
Life used to be easier. What happened to those days?
SIXTY
I spend a lot of time with a table between Jerry and me. And the table was usually covered – I mean covered – with food. Maybe Jerry and I should start having our discussions while walking, instead of eating. No, I’d never be able to convince the big guy of that.
When he came down to the café at nine a.m. he was wearing the houndstooth sport coat I’d first seen earlier in the year. I had on jeans, a T-shirt and light windbreaker kept in a locker at the Sands for emergencies.
‘’mornin’, Mr G.’ He sat down, looked around, probably for Lily. I’d already determined that she wasn’t working that shift. Instead Nell came over to take our orders.
We’d eaten after returning Frankie D. to his club, but we were both hungry again and ordered eggs.
Over coffee Jerry asked, ‘You come up with a way to go?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Good,’ Jerry said, ‘’cause all I got is to grab ’im and squeeze ’im.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘that may be the way to go.’
After breakfast I called Robinson to make sure he was in his suite, and then we went up. He was alone and answered the door himself.
‘How did it go with Madge?’ I asked.
‘She was marvelous,’ he said, happily. ‘I learned more about the game, and the strategies, than I ever thought I could.’
‘Do you think you’re ready to play?’
‘Oh, no,’ Robinson said, ‘no, no, Madge is coming back this afternoon. I don’t think I’ll be ready to play until she says so.’
‘I see,’ I said. ‘Well, that’s good. I’m glad she’s taking care of you.’
‘How are things going for you fellas?’
‘I think we’re getting close, Eddie,’ I said.
‘That’s fine,’ he said. ‘I think you boys can leave me in Madge’s hands and take care of your business.’
‘You’re OK with that?’ I asked.
He put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘I know both Frank and Jack Entratter have put pressure on you to squire me around, Eddie G., but yes, leaving me with Madge is very all right with me. Perhaps by the time she says I’m ready to play, your business will be concluded.’
‘I hope so,’ I said, ‘I sincerely hope so.’
We made one more stop before leaving the Sands.
‘Come on in,’ Frank said. ‘You get my message?’
‘I didn’t, Frank,’ I said. ‘Sorry.’
‘I left it at the front desk. Ah, it’s OK, kid,’ he said. ‘I just wanted you to know that you, me, Eddie Robinson, and Big Jerry here are going to see Dino when he opens tonight at the Sahara.’
‘That’s great, Frank.’
‘Yeah – Smokey’s comin’, too. He’s flying in for the show.’ Smokey was Frank’s pet name for Sammy, not because he was black, but because he smoked so much. I was glad to hear that Sammy was coming in. He’d said something on the radio a while back that pissed Frank off. Maybe they were over it.
‘I just wanted to let you know what’s goin’ on with Eddie.’
‘He told me,’ Frank said, ‘you got some broad showin’ him how to play poker. He loves it! I appreciate you doin’ what you can for him, Eddie G.’
‘Sure, Frank, sure,’ I said. ‘Happy to do it, you know that.’
‘You guys be ready tonight about six,’ he said. ‘I’ll have a limo out front. We’re gonna have dinner and see the show, give Dago a hard time, eh?’ Dago was Frank’s nickname for Dean.
‘You got it, Frank,’ I said, and we left. I was satisfied that both Eddie Robinson and Frank were taken care of, for the time being.
‘Sonofabitch,’ Jerry said.
We were in the Caddy, watching for the address that we had for Joey Rigatoni. It was a small house in a residential neighborhood of almost identical houses.
‘Not where I’d expect a drug peddler to live,’ Jerry said, when we pulled into the block.
We watched the house for an hour before the front door opened and a young man stepped out. He was tall, skinny, wearing worn jeans and a jacket. His hair was long and unkempt, and even at a distance I could see it needed washing. I couldn’t imagine him in the Happy Devil.
‘Fits the description Frankie D. gave us,’ Jerry observed.
‘Yeah.’
When a white-haired woman came out behind him Jerry said, ‘Sonofabitch.’ The boy and woman hugged, he kissed her on the cheek and started down the cracked concrete walkway. ‘Looks like he lives with his mother.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘or aunt.’
‘Landlady, maybe?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t think he’d be renting a room in this neighborhood. I think he lives here. Probably grew up here.’
‘And he’s dealin’ drugs to try and get out?’ Jerry asked.
He walked in the opposite direction from us. The woman stood on the porch and watched.
‘We can’t grab him in front of her.’
‘If we try to grab him in this neighborhood we might be seen,’ Jerry observed.
‘OK, then,’ I said, ‘let’s see where he goes.’
We tailed Rigatoni in the Caddy, which Jerry was very good at, despite the size of the car and him. We watched as Joey met with some friends, stood on a corner for a few minutes, then moved on and did the same thing a few blocks away. When he stopped at a bus stop I said, ‘Did I see right?’
‘Yeah,’ Jerry said. ‘He’s dealin’. He was passing some bags to his buddies and getting paid in with all that hand shakin’.’
‘Let’s grab him before he gets on the bus.’
‘Gotcha, Mr G. When I jump out, you slide in behind the wheel.’
‘Gotcha,’ I said, letting him call the play because he was the experienced one.
Jerry screeched up to the bus stop. Joey was standing there with an older man who was sitting on a bench, eating a bagel. He jumped out of the car and I slid behind the wheel.
Joey saw him coming, knew something was up and said, ‘Hey, wait—’
‘Let’s go, Joey!’ Jerry said and literally picked Joey up and threw him into the back seat of the Caddy.
The old man watched, his eyes wide, a bite of bagel half in, half out of his mouth.
‘Sorry, sir,’ Jerry said to him. ‘Hope we didn’t interrupt your breakfast.’
‘What’d he do?’ the man asked.
‘He’s been dealin’ drugs.’
The old man said, ‘Fuck ’im up, then,’ around the bagel, and went on chewing.
Jerry got into the back seat with Joey, who was just scrambling up to try and climb out. Jerry clubbed him and Joey Rigatoni fell back onto the seat, glassy-eyed.
‘Go, Mr G.!’ Jerry said.
I peeled out, burning rubber. Helluva way to treat a Cadillac.
SIXTY-ONE
OK, so we hadn’t planned this snat
ch as well as Danny had planned out the snatch of Frankie D. So for want of a place to take him and question him, I just drove to Industrial Road, found a deserted stretch, and stopped.
‘Hey, what the fuck—’ Joey started, but Jerry pushed him into one corner of the Caddy’s back seat and then planted his massive foot on his chest.
‘Jesus!’ Joey said.
‘Listen to this man’s questions,’ Jerry said, ‘and answer them, truthfully. If I think you’re lying, I’m gonna grind my heel into your chest.’
‘But wait—’
Jerry cut him off by pushing his heel into Joey’s ribs.
‘OK, OK!’ Joey yelled. ‘Take it easy.’
Jerry looked at me.
‘Joey, you’re dealin’ drugs.’
‘Hey, what—’ he started but Jerry dug his heel in, then leaned forward, stuck his hand into Joey’s jacket pocket and came out with some nickel bags.
‘This is a fact, Joey,’ I said. ‘You’re a drug dealer. Don’t deny it, or my friend will put his foot right into your heart.’
‘Yeah, OK,’ Joey said, as Jerry let up on the pressure. ‘So what, I’m tryin’ to make a livin’. Who ain’t?’
‘You’re right, everybody is trying to make a living, but not by hooking other people on drugs.’
‘Hey,’ Joey argued, ‘I don’t hook people on drugs, I just help ’em when they’re sick.’
‘Right, right,’ I said, ‘they hook themselves. Well, I tell you what, Joey. We’re really not concerned with you dealing drugs. We have a problem with something else you did.’
‘Like what?’
‘Murder.’
‘What?’ He tried to come up out of his seat, but Jerry slammed him back with his foot. ‘What the hell? I didn’t murder nobody.’
‘You know a woman named Helen Simms?’
‘Never heard of the lady.’
‘How do you know she was a lady?’ I asked.
‘It’s just a sayin’, man,’ he said. ‘I don’t know the broad.’
‘Well, how about a woman named Tina?’ I asked. ‘How about her … Dante?’
Joey Rigatoni deflated at the sound of his club name. Or maybe it was hers.
‘Aw, jeez, man,’ he said, ‘you ain’t gonna tell my mom about that, are you?’
‘I don’t know, Joey,’ I said. ‘Am I?’
‘Look,’ he said, ‘I didn’t kill nobody; I don’t know about nobody bein’ killed. Just tell me what you wanna know.’
‘You had a fight with Tina – Helen Simms – in the club a while back.’
‘Yeah, so? She was tryin’ to muscle in on my turf.’
‘She was selling drugs?’
‘Yeah, why’s that so hard to believe, because she’s a woman?’
‘Was a woman.’
‘What?’
‘She was a woman,’ I said. ‘Somebody killed her.’
He was stunned – or he was a very good actor. My heart sank, because I had thought we had our guy.
‘Oh, man,’ he said, ‘oh, man, I didn’t do that, man. I ain’t never killed nobody.’
‘Really … Rigatoni?’ Jerry asked.
‘Hey,’ Joey said, ‘that’s just a stupid name, OK? I ain’t connected, I ain’t no made guy, and I probably never will be.’ He hesitated, then said, ‘I just ain’t got the balls.’
It must have killed him to admit that.
‘OK,’ I said, ‘then tell me who you think did it.’
‘I got no idea,’ he said. Jerry pressed with his boot, but this time the kid fought it. ‘Hey! Cut it out! I didn’t even know the woman until I saw her dealin’ in the club.’
‘What about the manager? Frankie D.?’
‘What about him?’
‘Does he know you’re dealing in his club?’
‘Well, yeah,’ Joey said, ‘he takes a percentage.’
‘What did he think of Tina trying to sell in his club?’
‘His bouncers pulled us apart. They put me outside, and that was it.’
‘And what happened to her?’
‘I don’t know, man,’ he said. ‘I don’t know where they took her. Maybe to see Frankie. Why didn’t you ask him about it?’
‘I will.’
‘You better watch it, though,’ he said. ‘Frankie D. got connections.’
‘Turns out, not so much, really,’ Jerry said. He took his foot off Joey’s chest.
‘Get out of the car, Joey,’ I said.
He brushed at the front of his chest and said, ‘You gonna dump me off here?’
‘Want us to drive you home and tell your mama what you been up to?’
‘No!’ he snapped. He leaped up and out of the car like a gymnast. ‘You ain’t gonna talk to her, are you? Look, the money I make I give to her.’
‘And where does she think you get it?’
‘Odd jobs,’ he said, with a shrug.
I wondered if the woman could really be that stupid, to think that Joey would take home that much money from odd jobs?
‘Don’t skip town, Joey,’ I said, ‘or we will talk to her. And to the police.’
‘Oh, man, don’t bring the fuzz into this.’
‘You better hope I don’t find out you were lying to me.’
‘I ain’t lyin’, man.’
‘That better be true,’ I said, ‘because if you are, first I’ll give you to my friend here, and then we’ll give what’s left to the cops. And believe me, they’ll call your mother.’
‘Fuck, man!’
‘Take my advice,’ I said. ‘Get yourself into another business.’
He started walking, his shoulders slumped, and we drove the other way.
SIXTY-TWO
‘You believe ’im?’ Jerry asked when we stopped to switch places.
‘Damn it, I do,’ I said. ‘He was just too stunned when we told him she was dead, and he was a suspect.’
‘Suspect,’ Jerry said. ‘That’s a cop word.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Speaking of cops, should we give him to them?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘I’m not looking to be a narc.’
‘Maybe we should have asked him for his source?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘same reason.’
‘What about these?’ He took his hand out of his pocket, holding the small bags.
‘We’ve got enough to do.’
‘Yeah, we do.’ He waited a beat. ‘So what do we do?’
‘Let’s talk to Danny,’ I said. ‘Maybe he’ll have some ideas.’
‘I’ve got no idea,’ Danny said.
We were in his office, all seated with coffee in our hands, supplied by Penny.
‘Come on, Danny,’ I said, ‘what do you do when your best suspect turns out to be innocent?’
‘I go back to square one,’ he said. ‘Start all over again.’
‘That means the Sands,’ I said. ‘Back to the ladies’ room.’
‘Yes.’
‘Danny?’ Penny stuck her head in the door.
‘Yeah, sweetie?’
‘The police are here to see you.’ Hargrove barged past her into the room. ‘Detective Hargrove?’ she finished, sarcastically.
‘OK, honey,’ Hargrove said, as his partner, Martin, came in behind him. ‘We’ll take it from here.’
Martin looked at Penny, mouthed, ‘Sorry,’ and she just shrugged and backed out.
‘Hail, hail,’ Hargrove said, ‘the gang’s all here, huh?’
‘What can we do for you, detective?’
‘Well, I could use some coffee.’
Danny drained his mug and put it on the desk.
‘Fresh out.’
‘Yeah, OK,’ Hargrove said.
Martin leaned against the wall and kept quiet. I still didn’t understand why he hadn’t tried to get another partner. Nobody liked working with Hargrove because he was such a dick – and not the detective kind.
‘Again,’ Danny said, ‘what can we do for you?’
‘You can tell me what
this little gabfest is all about.’
‘Sports …’ Danny said.
‘Broads …’ Jerry said.
‘Art …’ I said.
‘Art?’ Hargrove asked.
‘It could happen,’ I argued.
‘Yeah, right,’ Hargrove said. ‘Look, I’m actually glad you’re all here. Saves me the trouble of having to look for you.’
‘We’d love to help, detective,’ I said. ‘Just tell us what you need.’
‘I need to know what you three have been up to.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You,’ he said, pointing at Danny, ‘were askin’ questions in the dead woman’s building. And you,’ he went on, pointing at me, ‘I’m bettin’ he’s workin’ for you.’
‘What about me?’ Jerry asked.
Hargrove looked at Jerry and said, ‘It won’t be long before you’re in a cell for something.’
‘Hope it’s a nice one,’ Jerry said.
‘I’ll make sure you’ve got a big, fluffy pillow.’ He looked at Danny again. ‘Listen, Shamus, I don’t want you botherin’ my suspects.’
‘Suspects?’ I asked. ‘What kind of suspects do you have in a suicide case? Or don’t you really think it was suicide?’
‘I think any broad who had to deal with you and your boss day in, day out had to be suicidal. Just keep your trained private dick away from my case, Eddie. You don’t want to piss me off.’
I thought of a few comebacks for that, but decided to leave it alone.
‘Don’t make me come lookin’ for you bums again.’
‘No problem, detective,’ Danny said. ‘Now you have a nice day.’
Hargrove looked over at Martin, who shrugged.
‘Let’s get out of here, Henry,’ Hargrove told his partner.
He went past Martin, out of the room first. Martin actually looked at me and raised his eyebrows, then turned and left.
‘What’s goin’ on?’ Danny asked.
‘Seems to me they don’t think it’s a suicide,’ I said, ‘they just told Jack Entratter that.’
‘Why?’ Danny asked.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, ‘but I think I know how to find out.’
‘How?’ Danny asked.
‘Martin,’ I said. ‘He’s not a happy camper.’
‘You think he’ll talk to you?’ Danny asked.
‘Well, we’ve got something in common.’
The Way You Die Tonight Page 17
