It Was a Very Bad Year rp-7

by Robert J. Randisi

‘Barney!’ I called. My voice echoed in the empty warehouse interior. ‘Come on, Barney.’

  There was a moment of silence, then a voice said, ‘Come to the center of the room. I wanna make sure you’re alone.’

  If he had gotten there first — which he obviously had — he was pretty dumb if he hadn’t been watching the parking lot to see if I would come alone.

  I walked, eventually entering the small circle of light thrown by the naked bulb.

  ‘You got the money?’ the voice asked. It sounded like Irwin, but I couldn’t really tell.

  ‘I’ve got it.’

  ‘Put it on the chair.’

  I walked to the chair, laid the envelope down, then stepped back.

  ‘Come on, Barney, stop playin’ games. I’m not just gonna leave this on the chair. Come on out.’

  ‘I ain’t so sure I wanna come out,’ Irwin said.

  ‘Barney, come on. . what’s this all about. Why’d you call the cops and tell them I killed your friend Wayne?’

  There was a pause, then he said, ‘Somebody killed Wayne?’

  ‘Yeah, well, I figured it was you, and you were tryin’ to jam me up with the cops by givin’ them my name.’

  No reply.

  ‘It didn’t work. I’m still walkin’ around free.’

  ‘You had no right,’ he said, finally.

  ‘No right to do what?’

  ‘What you did to me,’ Irwin said. ‘You ruined my business, you left me alone with that. . that animal, and then you short changed me.’

  ‘Barney, I don’t think I ruined your business, I think I put it out of its misery. As far as leavin’ you alone with Jerry, that was your own fault. And finally, you got more money than you deserved.’

  Again, silence.

  I heard the sound of feet scraping on the concrete floor. I hoped it wasn’t Jerry. Then again, maybe it would have been better if it was Jerry. As it was, two figures stepped into the circle of light, coming from different directions. It was the Rienza brothers, my old buddies from Reno.

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  ‘Not so smart, are ya?’ one asked.

  ‘You don’t learn your lesson, do ya?’ the other asked.

  ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I do.’

  ‘Huh?’ one asked.

  Their huge hands were empty, no guns, so when Jerry stepped out of the dark, his gun was still tucked away.

  ‘Meet my friend,’ I said.

  The two of them eyed Jerry warily. They were big, but he was bigger. In the darkness I heard some more feet scraping the floor, and then the sound of running. At the sight of Jerry, Irwin was taking off.

  ‘Hey,’ one of the Rienzas said, ‘he ain’t supposed to be here.’

  ‘Go, Mr G.,’ Jerry said. ‘I got this.’

  No weapons came out. It looked as if the Rienza brothers were gonna go mano-a-mano with Jerry. I wasn’t sure about leaving him alone, but then I wasn’t so sure I wouldn’t be more hindrance to him than help if I stayed.

  ‘Go!’ he snapped.

  At that moment a door opened somewhere in the warehouse. Light flooded in, and then the door slammed.

  I turned and headed for the front door.

  By the time I got outside there was no way I could figure out which door Irwin had used. I scanned the parking lot, but didn’t see anyone running away from the place. Suddenly I heard the sound of a motor. From the left side of the warehouse a motorcycle appeared, heading for the street. The rider was wearing a helmet. The only way I knew it was Barney Irwin was the flash of pastels as he went by. Even the helmet was powder blue.

  I thought about jumping in my car and chasing him, but I knew I’d never catch him. He was gone. We’d been looking for cars or trucks when we drove around the building. Somehow, we’d missed the bike.

  I turned and went back inside.

  In the circle of light Jerry had one of the Rienza brothers down on his belly. His hands were locked with the other one, as if they were in the center of a wrestling ring, and the Rienza was not faring well in the test of strength. His knees began to bend as Jerry slowly showed his superior strength.

  The Rienza who was down was not out. He started to move and in the yellow light I saw a glint of metal. I ran forward and, for want of a better idea, I kicked the Rienza in the head. He grunted, dropped his gun to the concrete with a clatter.

  ‘Gun, Jerry!’ I said.

  Jerry risked a look over his shoulder at me, then turned his attention back to the second Rienza. Abruptly, he lifted his knee into the man’s face. I heard bones crunch and, as teeth fell to the floor, the other man fell on to his back with a groan. Jerry quickly bent, patted him down, and came away with a.38.

  I picked up the first man’s gun, which was also a.38.

  ‘What about Irwin?’ Jerry asked.

  ‘He took off on a motorcycle by the time I got outside.’

  ‘How did we miss that?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘How was that fella Wayne killed?’ Jerry asked me. He wasn’t even out of breath.

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘if he was shot, it might’ve been with one of these guns. These guys are dumb enough to keep it.’

  I looked down at the two unconscious brothers.

  ‘Maybe,’ I said, ‘we should make an anonymous call of our own to the cops.’

  FIFTY-NINE

  There were dumpsters behind the building. We found two more motorcycles behind them. That explained how we missed the Rienzas.

  We found rope in my trunk and tied the brothers up before we left. Jerry unloaded their guns, and tossed them on the floor.

  Jerry drove while I looked for a phone booth. He stayed in the car as I dialed and then made my anonymous call to the cops, giving them the address of the warehouse, saying I had heard shots.

  I got back in the car.

  ‘OK,’ I said, ‘later we’ll have somebody call and drop Wayne’s name. For now those two idiots will just be taken in and checked out. Hargrove won’t let them go easily.’

  ‘So where to now?’ he asked.

  ‘Back to the Sands, I guess.’ The Sands seemed to be where it always started and ended for me. It was more home than home was.

  When we got to the casino I was approached as soon as we walked into the lobby.

  ‘Mr Entratter’s lookin for you,’ a bellman told me. ‘Wants you in his office pronto.’

  ‘OK, thanks.’

  ‘I’ll go to my room,’ Jerry said.

  ‘No, Come with me,’ I said. ‘Let’s see what this is about.’

  We took the elevator up. Jack’s girl was back and, probably in deference to the fact that Jerry was with me, said, ‘Go right in.’

  As we entered Jack jumped up from behind his desk. ‘They got the bastards!’

  ‘The kidnappers?’

  ‘Yep,’ Entratter said. ‘You were right, Eddie. The first one they caught was Johnny Irwin. He had forty grand with him. And then he gave up the other two.’ He looked at a piece of paper on his desk. ‘Joe Amsler and Barry Keenan.’

  ‘You nailed that one, Mr G.,’ Jerry said.

  ‘You sure did,’ Jack said. ‘Frank wants you to come back to LA with me. You, too, Jerry. It’s his birthday and he’s havin’ a party.’

  ‘Today?’

  ‘Right now,’ Jack said. ‘I was waitin’ for you to show up so we could leave.’

  ‘Um. .’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I had a talk with Hargrove last night,’ I said. ‘He said if I had to go back to LA to let him know.’

  ‘Well, OK,’ Entratter said. ‘Use my phone and let’s get goin’.’

  He moved around his desk so I could sit in his chair and call. It took a while for Hargrove to come to the phone, and when he did he sounded breathless.

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Eddie G.,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to go to LA. You wanted me to-’

  ‘What are you tryin’ to pull, Eddie?’ he demanded.

/>   Uh-oh, I thought, he’d already heard about the kidnappers.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What do I mean? I mean the Rienza brothers were found tied up in a warehouse downtown. Their guns were on the ground next to ’em, unloaded. You don’t know anythin’ about this, do you?’

  ‘Why would I?’ I asked. ‘Did they say I did? Did anybody say I did?’

  ‘They ain’t talkin’,’ Hargrove said. ‘What’s goin’ on in LA?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I lied. ‘Frank told me to come back. He says he’s got some news.’

  ‘Well. . fine. You go, but the minute you get back, haul your ass in here. I want to get to the bottom of this.’

  ‘We still talkin’ about the murder?’ I asked. ‘Did those two kill Wayne?’

  ‘We’re doing a ballistics check on their guns right now,’ Hargrove said. ‘By the time you get back, I’ll know something.’

  ‘OK, then,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you when I get back.’

  ‘You and your big friend aren’t off the hook yet, Eddie,’ he said. ‘Get that idea out of your head.’

  ‘Yes, Detective.’

  ‘And make sure he comes in with you.’

  ‘Yes, Detective.’

  ‘Are you yessing me, Eddie?’ he demanded. ‘You think you’re handling me, right now?’

  I said, ‘Yes, Detective,’ and hung up.

  SIXTY

  Frank had called Chasen’s and had them bring in enough food for an army. He invited Dean and Joey (Sammy was away doing a show) and all the FBI agents and cops who had worked on getting Frankie back. Also there when we arrived were Jimmy Van Heusen, Gloria and Mike Romanoff and a man I knew was his neighbor in Palm Springs, Abe Lipsey.

  Van Heusen was a hugely successful songwriter who had written many of Frank’s hits.

  Gloria and Mike Romanoff owned one of the most popular restaurants in Hollywood, Romanoff’s.

  Lipsey was simply a rich neighbor who had no connections to Hollywood, except that he enjoyed hosting parties to which he invited both movie and television stars, mostly at his Sunset Boulevard mansion. The parties became so famous that invitations were much sought after.

  The party was as much for Frankie as it was for Frank’s birthday, but Nancy kept her son close to her during the entire proceedings, and she couldn’t be blamed for that.

  Frank was a cheerful host, telling anyone who would listen that getting Frankie back was the biggest and best birthday present he could ever have gotten.

  At one point he cornered Entratter and me and started telling us how much he appreciated the police and the FBI.

  ‘I’m gonna send each and every one of them somethin’ special,’ he said, ‘as soon as I figure out what it should be. And you.’ He grabbed me, put his arm around my neck and hugged me to him. ‘You’re gonna get the most special gift of all!’

  ‘I don’t need a gift, Frank,’ I said. ‘I’m just glad Frankie’s home.’

  ‘That’s what I love about this guy,’ he said to Jack, tightening his arm around my neck, ‘he’s modest. He’s done more than anyone over the past few years to keep us bums out of trouble. Now he not only saves my son, but supplies the information that the cops used to catch the kidnappers — and he don’t want nothin’.’ He looked around. ‘I need another drink.’

  He went off to get one, got waylaid by Mike and Gloria Romanoff, kissed Gloria soundly before continuing on.

  ‘Whatever he gives you,’ Jack said, ‘just say thank you, Eddie.’

  ‘Jack-’

  ‘He’s comin’ to Vegas tonight. Tomorrow we celebrate the Sands’ eleventh anniversary, and he wants to be there. He’s gonna bring Juliet Prowse with him.’

  I’d forgotten about the anniversary party.

  ‘But this will go on for a while,’ Jack said, putting his hand on my shoulder. ‘And you had a big part in bringin’ Frankie home, and finding the kidnappers. So enjoy the celebration.’

  I nodded, and Jack moved off to join Jilly Rizzo and Mickey Rudin in a corner.

  Sometime later I found myself standing off to one side talking with Nancy and Tina Sinatra. Or maybe we were flirting. We’d all had a lot to drink and were relieved that Frankie was safe.

  Nancy was hanging on to one of my arms and Tina the other when Frank came stalking over and stood in front of us.

  ‘I love ya, Eddie. .’ he said.

  ‘I love you, too, Frank.’

  ‘. . but stay away from my daughters!’

  Both girls laughed as Frank grabbed me by the front of my shirt and pulled me away from them.

  ‘Eddie, those girls ain’t ready for you. You’re Eddie G., slick, fast-’

  ‘Slick?’

  ‘Trustworthy and loyal.’

  Like a boy scout? I thought.

  ‘I love ya, pally,’ he said again, slapping me lightly on the cheek, ‘but those are my babies, ya know?’

  ‘I know, Frank.’

  He threw his arm around me again and said, ‘Now if you want a broad, I can get ya a broad.’

  ‘No, I’m good, Frank,’ I said. ‘Really.’

  ‘OK.’

  He walked away and I decided not to go back to the Sinatra girls. Besides, when I turned around they had latched on to a handsome young FBI agent, who was looking mortified.

  Later I came face to face with Jimmy Van Heusen and found myself gushing to him about how much I enjoyed his work with Frank, including ‘All the Way’ and ‘High Hopes’, both of which won Oscars. He told me one of his favorite songs was ‘Call Me Irresponsible’ from that year’s film Papa’s Delicate Condition. I hadn’t seen the film yet, but I heard the song on the radio by Jack Jones. He then told me something I didn’t know, that he originally wrote the song for Fred Astaire to sing in the movie, but Astaire had to pull out because of other obligations, so Jackie Gleason stepped in and did the film.

  ‘It’s on Frank’s new album, though, “Sinatra’s Sinatra”,’ he finished.

  Somebody came and grabbed his arm, so I moved away after wishing him luck with the song at the next Oscar ceremony.

  I looked around, saw Jerry standing off to one side eating a huge sandwich. He had a lot of room around him, like people were giving him space. I walked over and joined him. The table there was laden with food, both hot and cold.

  ‘How you doin’, big guy?’

  ‘Good, Mr G. The food’s real good. That Chasen’s place must be OK.’

  ‘I think so.’

  Even though the food on the table was delicious I found I wasn’t that hungry.

  ‘Manga,’ Jerry said.

  ‘Maybe later. I’m gonna get another drink.’

  I looked around and saw Evans walking up to me. He was holding two drinks.

  ‘You look thirsty,’ he said, handing me one.

  ‘Thanks. You’re a mind reader.’ I sipped it. It was bourbon.

  ‘Look, can we talk? Privately?’

  ‘I’ll see you later, Jerry,’ I said.

  He nodded, raised his sandwich, and chewed.

  SIXTY-ONE

  Evans and I found a corner where we could talk.

  ‘I wanted to thank you again for the information you called me with,’ Evans said. ‘It really accelerated the capture of those kidnappers.’

  ‘Accelerated?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, yes,’ Evans said. He was impeccably decked out in an expensive brown suit with creases in his trousers that could carve a turkey and a burgundy pocket handkerchief. He wore gold cuff links, a couple of gold rings, but nothing on his wedding ring finger. I bet myself that he was always in the society pages, one of LA’s most eligible bachelors. ‘We were going to catch them, anyway. But you helped speed up the process.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘So I don’t think I should be reading anything in the newspapers about you being the one who caught the kidnappers.’

  ‘Is that what you’re worried about, Mr DA?’ I asked. ‘That I’m gonna try and take credit for bringin’ Fran
kie home? And findin’ the kidnappers?’

  ‘Well, aren’t you?’

  ‘I don’t care about the credit, Evans,’ I said. ‘You can have it.’

  ‘You getting paid that much that you don’t need to be the hero?’

  ‘I’m not gettin’ paid anythin’.’

  He took a step back regarded me, puzzled.

  ‘So you did this — all of this — for nothin’? For. . what? Friendship?’

  ‘That’s right, friendship,’ I said. ‘Frank called and asked me to help, and I said yes.’

  ‘And you put your life on the line?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘I don’t understand that,’ he said.

  ‘What? The concept of someone doin’ somethin’ for a reason other than profit?’

  ‘I’m a politician, Eddie,’ he said. ‘Altruism is not something I see every day. It’s not something I even understand.’

  I wasn’t sure I knew what ‘altruism’ meant back then, but I pretty much figured it out.

  ‘Some people just do the right thing, Mr Evans,’ I said. ‘And I guess that’s somethin’ I wouldn’t expect a politician to get.’

  For some reason he decided to take offense at that moment.

  ‘Oh, look here,’ he said, ‘don’t go getting so high and mighty on me. According to Mr Raggio you’re nothin’ but another hood. You work for the mob in one of their casinos, and you work to keep their friends out of trouble.’

  ‘I think I’m done talking to you, Mr Evans,’ I said. ‘I see a lot more interesting people in the room.’

  ‘Yeah, you listen-’

  ‘Dino!’ I yelled.

  Dean Martin had just walked in. He spotted me and came walking over.

  ‘Hey, Eddie!’ He gave me a big hug. ‘Who do we have here?’

  ‘This is Mr Evans, the District Attorney around here. He worked with the cops and the FBI on gettin’ Frankie back.’

  ‘Well,’ Dino said to Evans, ‘let me shake your hand, fella. You did a helluva job.’

  Evans shook hands with Dean but studied me. I guess he was waiting for me to play hero.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Martin,’ he said. ‘I was just. . just doing my job.’