“And you have it, don’t you?”
“Well yes, but—”
“Then there are two groups looking to sell?”
“That’s my point,” I said, “and yours is asking for a lot more money.”
“Yes,” he said, “I wondered about that.” He frowned while he was wondering.
“Mr. Kennedy,” I said, “you really have no idea who’s running around claiming to be members of the Secret Service? Killing people? Trying to kill me?”
“I truly don’t, Mr. Gianelli,” he said, “but you know Tahoe, Reno and Vegas better than my people do. You won’t blunder about as much as they have been doing.”
“Could any of your people have gone into business for themselves?”
His frown deepened.
“That’s always possible.”
“And the buy amount you’re dealing with? Half a million?”
“Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Is there somebody out there running around with that kind of money?”
“Not in cash,” he said.
“Then how—”
“That’s not important,” he said. “I want you to make your fifty-thousand-dollar buy. That way we both get what we want.”
“And my man is out fifty grand.”
“I will cover the cost,” he said. “And I’ll pay you, besides.”
“How much?”
“Name a price,” he said. “Five thousand? Ten?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I’ll have to figure out how much risking my life is worth.”
“But you don’t have to risk your life,” he said. “Make the buy. Pay the fifty thousand.”
“Oh, I’m not afraid of being killed by the sellers,” I said. “It’s the other buyers I’m worried about.”
“I understood you had some … help? Some … what do you call it … backup?”
“That’s not what I call it,” I said. “That’s not my lingo.”
“Mine, either, I’m afraid.”
“But you’re right, I do have someone with me.”
“I’ll pay him, too, then.”
“Really? That’s interesting.”
“As I said, name your price,” he said, then added, “within reason.”
“No blank checks, huh?” I asked.
“I don’t think either of us deals with very many blank checks in our businesses.”
“No, I’d say you’re right.”
“I’ll need you to make a decision, Mr. Gianelli,” he said. “I must be getting back to the compound.”
I hesitated. I knew he thought that no one would, could, or should make a decision until he got back. He was a man used to being in charge.
“My son is going to do great things in the White House, Mr. Gianelli,” he said. “That is, if he’s permitted to.”
“Oh shit,” I said, “you just had to wave the flag in my face, didn’t you?”
Fifty-six
I DIDN’T WANT TO SEEM money hungry, but I also didn’t want Joe Kennedy to think I was a fool, or that I came cheap. If you undervalued yourself people would have no choice but to do the same.
So we hashed out prices—for me and for Jerry—before Numbers One and Two drove me back to Harrah’s. They pulled up in front and stopped the car just barely long enough to give me back the .38 and let me out.
When I got to my room I immediately called Jerry. He said things were fine with Sammy, and he’d be going on stage in a little while. I told him what had happened and he said he’d be right over. I let him in as soon as he knocked.
“They were waiting for me and took me for a little ride.”
Jerry’s eyebrows went up. “And they brought you back?”
“Yes, after I had a very interesting conversation.”
“With who?”
“Joseph Kennedy.”
“Yer shittin’ me! The President’s father?”
“In the flesh.”
“What did he want?”
“He wanted to make a deal,” I said, and relayed both the conversation and the agreement we had come to.
“So it’s up to you and me?” he asked.
“It’s supposed to be up to you and me,” I said. “We’ll have to see about that.”
“But you’re gonna stay with it?”
I took out two cream-colored envelopes and passed one over to him.
“We’re both stayin’ with it.”
Jerry opened the envelope, rifled through the bills, saw that they were all hundreds.
“How much is here?” he asked.
“Ten grand.”
“For me?”
“And that one?” He indicated the envelope in my hand.
“Mine.”
“The same amount?”
“Yes,” I lied. No point telling him I’d only taken five thousand up front. “There’ll be a bonus if we can deliver the goods.”
“The goods being a picture of President Kennedy doin’ somethin’ illegal?”
“Doin’ somethin’ he shouldn’t be doin’,” I said, “but I can’t say it’s illegal. I can’t even say what it is because I wasn’t told.”
“We’ll know it when we see it.”
“If we see it,” I said, “and I’m still not sure I want to.”
“I don’t care what he’s doin’ in the picture,” Jerry said. “I didn’t even vote for ’im. So whatta we do? Buy it and not look at it?”
“If we can buy the entire roll of film, we’ll be able to do just that.”
“You’re figurin’ if we see the picture they’ll kill us, too?”
“Somebody might try,” I said, “but according to Joe Kennedy nobody workin’ for him will try it. He gave his word.”
Jerry laughed. “The word of a politician?”
“Yeah, I know. We can trust him about as far as we can throw him.”
“Why are ya doin’ it then, Mr. G.?”
I thought about the question. The money? The flag? To finish up a favor for Sammy?
“I kinda liked JFK when I met him last year,” I said, finally. “I got the feeling running for President wasn’t somethin’ he wanted to do. I think he’s lettin’ his father run his life—or ruin it.”
“Ruin it? How can bein’ President of the United States ruin your life?”
“I got the feelin’ when Kennedy was here last year he had interests other than … politics.”
“Like broads?”
“Like havin’ a good time,” I said. “That can mean women, it can mean a lot of things. But when Joe Kennedy lost his oldest son, Jack’s wants and needs suddenly came second. Now Jack is President and he’s got all the headaches that come with it. I figure the last thing he needs is some photo showin’ up in the papers givin’ him more.”
Jerry studied me for a few moments, then tucked the envelope full of money into his inside jacket pocket.
“I like the way you put all that, Mr. G.,” he told me, “so I’m in, too.”
Fifty-seven
WE HAD BREAKFAST PLANNED with Sammy at a corner table in Harrah’s coffee shop but he was late. I was about to call his room when he appeared. There was a smattering of applause as the other diners recognized him. He graciously waved and shook hands but otherwise no one approached him as he walked to our table.
“Sorry I’m late, guys,” he said, seating himself, “but I got a call.” He leaned forward. “You know? A call.”
“I get it, Sam,” I said. “What’d they say?”
“They asked if I still wanted the photo.”
“And?”
“I said I wanted the whole roll of film like we agreed. They said okay, but the price is now seventy-five thousand.”
“Did you tell them what we discussed?” I asked. “Yeah, I told them they’d have to call you because you’re the go-between. She went crazy—”
“She?” I said. “The caller was a woman?”
“Yeah. I didn’t mention that?”
“No, you didn
’t,” I said. “Try not to leave anything else out.”
The waitress came over and we ordered breakfast—omelet platters for the three of us.
“Okay,” Sammy said, “the phone rang this morning and I answered. I thought it might be you but it was a woman—a girl, actually.”
“What kind of voice?”
“Young, pretty … flirty.”
“Sounds like a lot of broads,” Jerry said.
Sounds like Caitlin, I thought.
“Go ahead, Sam.”
“After she cursed at me for a few minutes I got some backbone and told her that if she didn’t contact you, there would be no deal.”
“Nobody said you didn’t have any backbone, Sammy.”
“I said it,” Sammy said, then pointed at both of us and with a crooked smile added, “but I’m the only one who can.”
“Agreed,” I said.
He looked at Jerry.
“Hey,” the big man said, “you scare me.”
“Yeah, right,” Sammy said. “I’m about as big around as your leg.”
“Can we get back to business?” I asked. “What did the girl say?”
“She cursed some more, but then she agreed,” he said. “She’s gonna call you at noon today.”
“Noon,” I said. “We’ve got a lot of time to have a leisurely breakfast.”
“And while we do,” Sammy said, “you can tell me what you guys have been up to.”
“Me, I been in my room,” Jerry said, looking at me.
“Let’s get some coffee,” I said, “and I’ll tell you a story….”
The story went on throughout breakfast, and we were still eating by the time I was done.
“Man, that’s freaky,” Sammy said. “So I did catch JFK on film.”
“Doin’ somethin’ naughty,” Jerry added.
Sammy looked at him.
“You sound happy.”
“I didn’t vote for ’im.”
I left out the part about Joe Kennedy basically hiring Jerry and me to stay at it, but Sammy was no dope.
“I hope you’re gettin’ some scratch outta Joe Kennedy for this.”
“He’s payin’,” I said, “and he’s willin’ to put up the money for your buy.”
“Works for me,” Sammy said. “But you guys still have a problem, don’t you?”
“Namely?”
“If Kennedy is tellin’ the truth and his men haven’t been tryin’ to kill you, who is? And who killed the man in the warehouse?”
“I think we’ll find it all out when we get the film, Sammy.”
Before I was ushered from Joe Kennedy’s presence he pressed a business card into my hand. I now had a way of calling him, which, he said, not many people had.
“Let’s finish eating and go to my cabin,” I said to Sammy.
“We’ve still got some time.”
“I want to place a call and get that seventy-five grand. We’re gonna need it, because we are definitely makin’ this buy.”
Fifty-eight
WE ALL WENT BACK to the cabin and I called the number Joseph Kennedy had given me. I didn’t get him, but instead talked to some minion who said the money would be hand delivered to me within the hour.
“Seventy-five G’s?” Jerry asked. “Hand delivered?”
“That’s what he said.”
“You got the power, Mr. G.”
“Not me.”
“You made the call,” he pointed out. “That’s all it took to get seventy-five grand delivered to the door. I don’t know about your world, but in mine that’s power.”
“The man’s got a point,” Sammy said. “I’m impressed.”
“Well,” I said, “let’s see if the money shows up.”
A messenger—a real messenger, with a uniform that said so—delivered an eight-by-ten envelope to the door within the hour, and before my noon phone call was supposed to come in.
I opened the envelope and there were eight banded stacks of bills in there, ten thousand a stack except for the one that had five.
“See?” Jerry said to me. “Power.”
“By the way,” I said to Sammy, “I’ve got your money here, in the other room.” Taking five stacks out of the envelope I added, “You might as well take it now.”
“Hey,” he said, taking the money from me, “you don’t have to offer me fifty thousand dollars twice.”
“Especially since it’s already your money.”
Sammy was standing there, fifty thousand in his hands, when the phone rang.
“I’ll get it,” I said.
They watched me walk to the phone and lift the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Are you the go-between?” she asked.
“Hello, Caitlin.”
There was a pause, then, “How did you—what the—”
“I missed you the other morning, you left in such a hurry,” I said. “Of course, you did leave me a note.”
There was a long period of silence during which I became sure she had hung up, or pulled her phone out of the wall, but then a sexy chuckle tickled my ear.
“Eddie G,” she said, “you’re so smart.”
Behind her I heard a man start to speak, but she shushed him hard enough to make me deaf.
“Sounds like your boyfriend’s upset.”
“He’ll get over it,” she said. “You got our money?”
“I’ve got it,” I said.
“Seventy-five thousand?” Her voice got husky.
“Every penny,” I said, “but we’ve got to make sure of somethin’, Caitlin.”
“What’s that?”
“We’ve got to stay alive long enough to make the exchange.”
“Don’t worry about that,” she said.
“Oh, but I am worried,” I said, “more about you than myself.”
“That’s sweet.”
“If I’m readin’ the situation right, you’ve already lost one of your partners.”
She fell silent again.
“And I’m havin’ my own problems,” I added. “This is no big secret we have goin’ here, you know.”
She covered the phone and had an exchange with her boyfriend.
“There are too many people with guns runnin’ around, Caitlin,” I said. “This meeting place has to be a good one.”
“Agreed,” she finally said. “Do you remember where we met?”
Did I remember? We met at the Sands, in the lobby, where she was working behind the desk.
“Yes.”
“Meet me out where all the cars are.”
The parking lot?
“When?”
“Do you remember what time it was when you kissed me for the first time?”
Her code was a very personal one. Anyone listening wouldn’t be able to figure it out. This was probably overkill, but I continued to go along with it.
She came to my room to wake me up for my 6 A.M. wake-up call. So I must have kissed her at about six-oh-five.
“I remember.”
“Twelve hours later, plus four.”
It would be good and dark by 10 P.M. in the Sands parking lot. If you stayed away from the lights you could find some black corners to meet in.
“Okay,” I replied, “but when?”
I could hear her mind working, trying to come up with a way to tell me the day without actually saying it on the phone, but she was out of codes.
“Tomorrow night,” she said. “Don’t be late.”
“Don’t get killed,” I said, and she clicked off without comment.
“What was all that about?” Sammy asked.
I explained Caitlin’s attempt at communicating by code.
“So when are we meetin’?” Jerry asked.
“Tomorrow night at ten in the parking lot behind the Sands.”
“That’s pretty public.”
“There are some dark corners back there,” I said. “She only worked there for about a week, but she knows that.”
“And are
we really gonna give her the money?”
“That’ll get us the roll of film—or prints of the roll—but it won’t guarantee we’ll get all the prints of the Kennedy picture.”
“Or mine,” Sammy said. “I mean, if this girl and her boyfriend are actin’ on their own and there are still others involved, there could be plenty of prints out there.”
“I guess there’s always that chance when you pay blackmail money,” I said.
“There’s only one way to make sure a blackmailer don’t come back,” Jerry said.
Sammy and I looked at him. We both knew what he meant by that.
“But you’ve got to make sure you get all the blackmailers,” I countered. “How do you do that?”
“You convince one of ’em to finger the others,” he said.
We all knew there was only one way to do that, too.
The phone rang at that moment. We all turned and stared.
“Answer it,” I said to Jerry.
“Maybe they’re gonna change the meet,” Jerry said, as he picked up the receiver.
“Hello? Yes. Hold on.” Jerry held the phone out to me. “It’s for you. Jack Entratter.”
Fifty-nine
“HELLO, JACK.”
“Don’t hello me, Eddie. Where have you been?”
“Tryin’ to stay alive.”
“Is that supposed to be dramatic?”
“It’s supposed to be truthful, Jack.”
He hesitated a moment, then—in a tone not quite so aggressive—said, “Well, the cops were here lookin’ for you. Your old friend Detective Hargrove.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Seems he thinks you had somethin’ to do with killin’ four men.”
“Did he say that?”
“No,” Entratter said, “he insinuated it. But he was in your house and he said somethin’ about how clean your living room carpet was. In fact, he said it was still wet. Why’s he interested in your wet shag carpet?”
“Did he mention a bullet hole in the wall?”
“No.”
“Probably keepin’ that to himself.”
“There’s a bullet hole in your wall?”
“I told you, Jack,” I said, “I’m tryin’ to stay alive.”
“You got the big guy with you?”
“Yeah. Jerry’s here.”
“Hargrove was askin’ about him, too.”
“He’s okay.”
Hey There (You with the Gun in Your Hand) Page 17
