It Was a Very Bad Year rp-7

by Robert J. Randisi

  ‘No word yet on his condition,’ he said. ‘We just know he was shot while in his motorcade.’

  ‘In the car? What about the first lady?’

  ‘Nobody said anything about her.’

  I joined him in front of the TV.

  ‘Jesus,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘It’s a madhouse downstairs.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I didn’t hear anything until I walked in.’

  ‘It’s all over the TV and radio.’

  ‘I didn’t turn either of them on this morning.’

  It was all very surreal, the panic in the lobby, and the coverage on the TV. The usually stolid Walter Cronkite appeared shaken up. Cronkite was like everybody’s uncle. To see him upset just added to the unsettling feeling of it all.

  We stood side by side for quite a while, just watching the reports. After the fact that Kennedy had been shot it was all supposition, but a lot of people were doing the supposing.

  After a few minutes I asked, ‘Do we know where Frank is?’

  Entratter let out a breath, as if he’d been holding it for a long time. ‘I think he’s home, in Palm Springs.’

  ‘He must be taking this hard.’

  From the outer office we could hear the sound of Jack’s girl, blubbering.

  ‘Hold on,’ he said.

  He walked out and I heard him tell the girl to go home, they weren’t going to get much work done that day. She didn’t argue. When he came back in he picked up his phone and called the hotel room service and ordered some coffee.

  ‘You want something to eat?’ he asked, before hanging up.

  ‘See if they can send some pastries with it.’

  He told them to send whatever they had in the way of pastries or donuts, then hung up and rejoined me in front of the TV.

  ‘This is unreal,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah.’

  We were still standing there when a bellman carrying a tray appeared at the door.

  ‘Mr Entratter?’

  ‘Just put it on the desk.’

  The young man did so, then looked at the TV.

  ‘Anything new?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ Jack told him, ‘they still don’t know his condition. Or they’re not sayin’.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  Jack nodded and the young man left.

  ‘Why don’t we sit down?’ Jack suggested.

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ I said.

  We went to his desk and sat. Entratter was a good host, poured coffee for both of us, removed the covering from the plate of pastries.

  ‘Is Joey still in town?’ I asked.

  ‘Actually,’ Entratter said, ‘he left this morning. He probably heard the news on the plane.’

  ‘That’ll be a somber flight.’

  ‘Maybe we should call Frank?’ I asked. ‘See how he’s doing?’

  ‘No,’ Entratter said. ‘Let’s wait and see what else we can learn before we do that. He’s probably making a lot of calls of his own. He’s a lot more personally — ’ he groped for the word, finally came up with it — ‘invested in this than we are.’

  ‘I guess you’re right.’

  ‘So,’ Jack said, picking up his coffee.

  ‘So,’ I said, grabbing a pastry.

  At 1.33 CST time — an hour and three minutes after he was shot — President John Fitzgerald Kennedy was pronounced dead at Parkland Hospital, in Dallas, Texas.

  EIGHTEEN

  After Kennedy was pronounced dead we graduated from coffee to bourbon. Jack and I had our own private wake for a while, and then his phone began to ring.

  ‘Not now,’ he said into the phone half a dozen times before he finally covered the mouthpiece and said, ‘I better take this one.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, getting up, ‘I’ve got things to do.’ I staggered a moment before righting myself.

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘Yeah, Jack, I’m OK.’

  ‘You wanna go home or work?’ he asked, and then didn’t wait for me to respond. ‘It’s up to you.’

  He waved and went back to his call. I returned the wave and left his office.

  When I got back to the lobby little had changed, except the pace. There were still people there, crying, slack-faced, but they were moving much slower. Some of them even seemed to be sleepwalking.

  The casino floor was much the same. Even where people were gambling they were doing it — both the gamblers and the dealers — with little interest. I wasn’t needed there. As I was trying to make up my mind what to do I saw Jerry’s cousin, Billy, shooting craps. He towered over the table, throwing the dice with enthusiasm. He either hadn’t heard about the assassination, or he didn’t care.

  My face felt tight, my eyes gritty, and suddenly I had to get off the casino floor. I went to a house phone and called Jerry’s room.

  ‘What’re you doin’?’ I asked.

  ‘Just hangin’ around,’ he said. ‘Watchin’ the reports on TV. You wanna come up?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘I’ll be right there.’

  Jerry had left the door ajar, so I knocked and walked in. He was sitting on the large sofa, in front of the color TV.

  ‘I thought you didn’t have a suite?’ I asked, looking around.

  ‘So did I,’ he said. ‘Billy was all excited, said a bellhop came up, told him we had to move, so he followed the guy here. I thought you arranged it.’

  ‘Not me,’ I said. ‘It must’ve been Jack.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t have the heart to drag Billy outta here,’ Jerry said. ‘He thought I pulled some strings, and was real impressed.’

  I walked over, stood next to the sofa and looked at the TV.

  ‘Anything new?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘the Governor of Texas was in the car. He got shot, but he’s alive.’

  ‘Is he going to stay that way?’

  ‘Don’t know, yet.’

  I looked over at the bar.

  ‘You want a drink?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ll take a beer.’

  ‘Any in the frig?’

  ‘I ain’t looked.’

  I checked, got him a can of Piels. I briefly considered some more bourbon, but in the end took a can of beer for myself, too.

  I joined him on the leather sofa and handed him a can.

  ‘Some shit, huh?’ he asked, indicating the TV.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘He was a good man,’ Jerry said. ‘A good president.’

  I didn’t respond. I knew more about Kennedy the ladies’ man than I did about Kennedy the politician. But I didn’t think he handled the Bay of Pigs or the Cuban Missile Crisis the way an American president should have. The former turned out to be a fiasco, and he gave up too much in the latter. But of course we didn’t learn all the details until years later.

  ‘You don’t think so?’ Jerry asked.

  ‘I’ve met him a time or two,’ I said. ‘He seemed like a good guy.’

  ‘Mr S. thinks he’s a fucking great president.’

  ‘Yeah, I know he does.’

  I could feel Jerry looking at me, but I kept my eyes on the TV. I didn’t want to start talking politics with him. It wasn’t something we had ever done before. And I wouldn’t have been able to explain why I wasn’t feeling much of what everyone else seemed to be feeling. Maybe I was in shock.

  We ended up sitting there, staring at the TV, drinking beer, and before long we got around to business.

  NINETEEN

  ‘So what are we gonna do?’ he asked.

  I considered the question, coming as it did about three hours after JFK had been shot. Was that all the President of the United States was worth, three hours of our time? The truth was the nation would be mourning for weeks, maybe months. Even though the nation itself got back to business when Lyndon Baines Johnson had to be sworn in as the President of the United States aboard Air Force One at Love Field Airport, only two hours and eight minutes after JFK’s death.

  ‘I’m gonna
call Danny, see if he’s come up with someplace quiet for us to take Irwin, so we can talk to him properly.’

  ‘Yeah, but first we got to get him to meet us,’ Jerry said. ‘Where’s that gonna be?’

  ‘I’m thinking one of those strip clubs on either side of his house.’

  ‘Don’t you think that’ll be suspicious?’ Jerry asked. ‘He won’t think that’s a coincidence, us wanting to meet him right near his house?’

  ‘I expect he already knows we were in his house, don’t you?’

  ‘Well, yeah,’ Jerry said, ‘once he sees those photos missin’ he’s gonna think of you right away.’

  ‘So I might as well call him and see where we can set up a meet,’ I said.

  ‘If he still wants to do it.’

  ‘He’s going to be pissed,’ I said, ‘but he’s also gonna want his ten grand. I’ll give him a call at his studio.’

  I walked to the phone. Jerry got up and lowered the volume on the TV.

  The phone in the studio rang almost eight times. I started to think maybe Irwin was home watching television like everybody else, but right at the start of that eighth ring he picked up.

  ‘Irwin Studios.’

  ‘It’s Eddie Gianelli, Barney,’ I said.

  ‘You sonofabitch!’ he spat. ‘You robbed my house.’

  I could have pointed out that we didn’t steal his house, we simply broke into it, but decided he was already pissed off enough.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘I know it was you who swiped my pictures. I want ’em back!’

  ‘We made a deal for the Abby Dalton photos, Barney,’ I said. ‘That’s what I’m calling about. If you lost some others I don’t know anything about it.’

  ‘I didn’t lose nothin’,’ he said. ‘You stole ’em.’

  ‘Do you want your ten grand or not?’

  There was a moment of silence and then he said grudgingly, ‘Yeah, I want the money.’

  ‘All right, so let’s meet.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Not Clipper’s.’

  ‘Well, I ain’t lettin’ you pick the place,’ Irwin said.

  ‘You been watching the TV, Barney? Anyplace we go is gonna be in an uproar. We need someplace quiet.’

  ‘Then come here.’

  ‘Your studio?’

  ‘I’ll put the closed sign out. There won’t be nobody here.’

  ‘No photo shoot today?’

  ‘I had a couple, but they both canceled because of the President.’ He sounded miffed that JFK had ruined his day.

  ‘OK, what time?’

  He thought a moment, then said, ‘Six.’

  ‘No earlier?’

  ‘I said six.’

  ‘Yeah, OK, fine. I’ll be there at six.’

  ‘Come alone,’ he said, and hung up.

  ‘When?’ Jerry asked.

  ‘Six.’

  ‘That gives him hours to come up with some back-up,’ Jerry said.

  ‘You’re right.’

  ‘And he wants you to come alone, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jerry said, ‘I’m gonna have to pick the lock on that back door again.

  ‘Can you do it quicker, this time?’

  ‘Sure,’ Jerry said, ‘now that I done it once, I should be better.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, ‘I’ll go in the front and start talking up the exchange.’

  ‘I’ll come in the back door, take out his back-up, and then we can squeeze him.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan.’

  And like all plans, it just had to go off without a hitch. .

  TWENTY

  We hung out in Jerry’s room the rest of the day, followed the day’s progress on the screen. The Governor had been shot in the back, but survived his surgery. His wife and the first lady had been unharmed. By the time we left at five thirty we had no news about who had fired the shots.

  I called Danny before we left, told him we’d settled on a meeting place.

  ‘OK,’ he said, ‘I’ve got somewhere for you to take him.’ He gave me the address. ‘Do you want me to meet you at the studio?’

  ‘No, Jerry and I can handle that. We’ll meet you later.’

  ‘OK, but be careful.’

  By the time we parked around the corner from Irwin’s studio it was five fifty-three.

  ‘Gimme ten minutes to get in the back door,’ Jerry said, ‘then go in.’

  ‘Gotcha.’

  He went down the alley that led behind Irwin’s studio. I waited a full ten minutes and then walked around the corner and went in the front door. I had the money on me that Abby had given me, five grand.

  I entered the studio, found it as musty and filthy as the last time. I decided not to go walking down the hall, looking for Irwin. Instead, I called out to him.

  ‘Irwin! Where are you?’

  I suddenly found myself hoping we weren’t going to find a dead body. Jerry and I had found more than our share during the time we’d known each other.

  ‘Hey, Barney.’

  ‘Back here,’ Irwin’s voice called.

  OK, so I would have to go down the hall. If Irwin did, indeed, have back-up with him I wondered if they’d be armed. Then I wondered if Jerry was armed. I hadn’t asked him. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to know.

  I went down the hall and through the same curtained doorway. No naked girls, this time. Just Irwin, standing in the center of the room with his arms folded. He looked like he was posing.

  ‘You got my money?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve got it,’ I said. ‘You got the pictures?’

  Instead of answering the question he said, ‘Meet Wayne.’

  ‘Wayne who?’

  ‘Wayne me,’ a voice said from behind me. A big man in his fifties came in through the same doorway I’d used. He had broad shoulders and muscular arms, but sported a hard paunch. He shopped the same place for clothes that Irwin did. Still, I would not have wanted to try to handle him alone.

  ‘What’s this?’ I asked.

  ‘Give me the dough.’

  ‘Not till I see the pictures.’

  Irwin shook his head and looked past me at Wayne. I turned, saw Wayne reach behind him and come up with a sap. I was glad it wasn’t a gun.

  I also saw Jerry’s big forearm come through the curtain and snake around Wayne’s neck. His other hand relieved the man of his weapon. The big man immediately began to fight, but he was no match for Jerry. His face started to change colors, and by the time it reached purple he passed out. Jerry lowered him to the floor.

  I turned and looked at Irwin, who seemed panicked.

  ‘H-hey-’ he said.

  ‘What was your plan, Barney? Have Wayne work me over and then take the money?’

  ‘Naw, naw,’ Irwin said.

  Jerry stepped past me and approached the photographer. Irwin put both hands out in front of him and cringed.

  ‘Hey, I got neighbors,’ he said. ‘They’ll hear-’

  ‘Relax, Barney,’ I said. ‘We’re just gonna go for a little ride.’

  ‘Huh? Where?’

  Jerry reached out, settled one big paw on the back of Irwin’s neck.

  ‘You’ll see,’ he said.

  Irwin looked down at Wayne and asked, ‘Is. . is he dead?’

  ‘Naw, he’s just asleep.’

  Irwin looked at me, his eyes pleading.

  ‘The pictures are here,’ he claimed. ‘I was gonna make the exchange. Wayne was just back-up.’

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘There.’ He pointed. I walked over to a table where a brown envelope lay. It had stains on it, which it had acquired that afternoon in Clipper’s. It was the same envelope, with the same photos in it. No nudes.

  ‘Not good enough, Barney,’ I said. ‘Where are the nudes?’

  ‘How many times I gotta tell you-’ he started, but Jerry tightened his hand on the back of Irwin’s neck, which took away his ability to speak.


  ‘Come on, Barney,’ I said. ‘We’re going for a ride.’

  TWENTY-ONE

  Danny found us a downtown warehouse that had seen better days and had been empty for a while.

  He was waiting for us when I pulled the Caddy up in front. I drove so Jerry could sit in the back with Irwin, making sure that Barney didn’t try anything.

  We got out and Irwin asked, ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘Shut up,’ Jerry said, and cuffed him on the back of the head.

  Danny opened the door.

  ‘Thanks, Danny.’

  ‘It’s all set,’ he said. ‘Just some chairs and a table.’

  ‘Good enough.’

  I let Jerry drag Irwin inside.

  ‘Here’s the keys,’ Danny said, handing them to me. ‘Lock up when you leave.’

  ‘What’s in here to steal?’

  ‘Nothin’,’ Danny said. ‘Just lock it, OK? I’m borrowin’ the place.’

  ‘OK, I’ll lock up.’

  ‘And I promised the owner you wouldn’t leave any bodies behind.’

  ‘That’s a promise I can keep.’

  ‘Sure you don’t want me to come in with you?’

  ‘No, Jerry can handle it,’ I said.

  ‘Keep him on a short leash, Eddie,’ Danny said. ‘He can do some real damage.’

  ‘I know it,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry.’

  Danny slapped me on the shoulder. ‘I won’t worry. Let me know what happens.’

  I slapped his back and went inside.

  Jerry already had Irwin in a chair, his hands tied behind him. He was watching us with wide eyes, his face already slick with sweat. His skin had a yellow cast, because of the naked yellow bulb above him.

  ‘What’s goin’ on?’ he demanded.

  ‘Barney, my friend does this for a living, so make this easy on yourself.’

  ‘What are you talkin’ about?’

  ‘I want the nude photos of Abby Dalton.’

  ‘I already toldja,’ Irwin replied. ‘I never took no nude photos.’

  ‘I can’t buy that, Barney,’ I said. ‘The way Abby looked back then, young and fresh? No way you’d let her get away without a few nudies. Somebody’s threatening to take those photos public, and you’re the only one who ever took any.’