When Somebody Kills You

by Robert J. Randisi

  ‘What’s her last name?’

  ‘Kendall.’

  ‘Mind if we talk to her?’

  ‘Why not? She’s only rehearsing. Not that it’ll help.’ He turned back around, put the bottles on a shelf.

  Jerry and I walked up to the stage, where the woman and the piano player were now conferring over the music.

  ‘Peggy Kendall?’ I said.

  She turned, and I saw what the bartender meant. She was hardly a girl, probably on the wrong side of forty, and she’d had a hard life. Maybe at night, when she sang, make-up covered the bags beneath her eyes and lines at the corners of her mouth.

  ‘I’m Peggy,’ she said. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘My name’s Eddie Gianelli,’ I said. ‘This is Jerry Epstein. We’re from the Sands in Vegas.’

  ‘The Sands?’ Her eyes lit up. ‘What are you doin’ here?’

  ‘Lookin’ for talent,’ I said. ‘Can we talk somewhere?’

  ‘My dressing room,’ she said. She looked at the piano player. ‘Be back in a jiff, Benny.’

  Benny looked at me. ‘Lemme know if you need somebody to tickle the ol’ ivories, man.’

  He was in his fifties, and this was probably his last stop.

  ‘I’ll keep you in mind,’ I promised.

  ‘Crazy,’ the piano man said.

  We followed Peggy to the back of the house, down a hall to a small dressing room.

  ‘I know,’ she said, ‘it’s barely the size of a closet. Your friend will have to stand in the hall.’

  ‘No problem,’ Jerry said.

  She sat down on a rickety wooden chair in front of a scarred mirror. ‘Where did you hear about me?’ she asked.

  ‘From Jimmy Jacks.’

  ‘Jimmy!’ Her eyes lit up. ‘Where is he? Have you seen him?’

  ‘Well,’ I said, going with it, ‘in Vegas, but we’re supposed to see him here. He was going to introduce us to you.’

  ‘That sweet man,’ she said. ‘B–but I haven’t seen him in two weeks.’

  ‘Two weeks?’

  ‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘When did you see him?’

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘actually, we haven’t seen Jimmy at all, Miss Kendall.’

  ‘What?’ She looked confused.

  ‘We’re lookin’ for Jimmy because he did a job for somebody,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘You’re not from the Sands in Vegas?’

  ‘Oh, I am. I just don’t have anything to do with finding talent. But I do have something to do with finding Jimmy Jacks.’

  ‘B–But … why? What job are you saying he did?’

  ‘He made a drop,’ I said, ‘a blackmail drop.’

  Her eyes got shifty as she said, ‘W–what? I don’t understand. Blackmail?’

  ‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘He was hired to make a payoff, and we want to know who hired him.’

  ‘Or maybe,’ Jerry said, ‘he’s the blackmailer himself.’

  ‘A blackmailer? Not Jimmy!’

  ‘No, not Jimmy,’ I said, ‘because he’s a sweet man, right?’

  ‘He’d never – he’d never blackmail anybody.’

  ‘If you know where he is, Peggy,’ I said, ‘tell him to contact Eddie G. at the Beverly Hills Hotel. It’s the only way to prove he’s innocent.’

  ‘But – but—’

  ‘If we don’t hear from him,’ I went on, ‘we’ll call the cops and tell them what we think. Then they’ll be lookin’ for him for blackmail.’

  ‘B–But I told you, I haven’t seen Jimmy—’

  ‘I know,’ I said, ‘in a couple of weeks. Well, maybe he’ll turn up. You never know.’

  I looked at Jerry, who nodded and started down the hall. I left Peggy’s dressing room and followed him.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Outside the club, we didn’t wake the cab driver until we actually decided where we wanted to go.

  ‘Back to the hotel?’ Jerry asked.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘I think the cops will be there. They’re still wantin’ to talk to us about the explosion.’

  ‘Well, I need somethin’ to eat,’ Jerry said.

  ‘We’re not gonna eat anywhere down here,’ I said. ‘But I think we should wait a few minutes.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘To see if she comes out.’

  ‘You think she’ll go straight to Jacks?’

  ‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘I hope so.’

  ‘What if she’s tellin’ the truth and she ain’t seen him in two weeks?’

  ‘Then we’ll have to try somethin’ else.’

  We went to the cab and roused the driver.

  ‘Now what?’ he asked. ‘Ya wanna go across the street?’

  ‘Actually, we do,’ I said, ‘right in that alley.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  ‘What I ain’t seen yet is any scratch, bub.’

  I took some money out and shoved it into his hand. ‘Now let’s get into that alley.’

  He tucked the money into his shirt pocket and said, ‘Yer still the boss.’

  It took ten minutes for her to come out.

  ‘There she is,’ Jerry said.

  ‘We followin’ her?’ the cabbie asked.

  ‘We’re gonna try,’ I said, ‘if you’re good enough.’

  ‘Hah,’ the driver said, ‘you just happened to get the best driver in the city.’

  ‘That a fact?’ Jerry asked. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Zack.’

  ‘Well, Zack,’ I said, ‘if she has her own car—’

  ‘She won’t,’ he said. ‘Nobody brings their own cars down here. She’ll look for a cab.’

  The idea hit me like a bolt of lightning. ‘Jerry, get out!’

  He didn’t hesitate. As he was climbing out, I said, ‘Zack, go pick her up, then come back here and get us and take us to where you drop her. Got it?’

  ‘I got it, boss.’

  I hurried out and said, ‘Go!’

  As Zack pulled out into the street Jerry said, ‘That was good thinkin’, Mr G.’

  ‘Let’s hope so.’

  A half-hour later we were still waiting in the alley.

  ‘Either they went a long way,’ Jerry said, ‘or Zack forgot to come back.’

  ‘The best driver in the city? I don’t think so.’ At least, I hoped not.

  It was another half-hour before Zack pulled up in front of the alley.

  ‘Bet ya thought I wasn’t comin’ back,’ he said.

  ‘Not me,’ I said, as we piled into the back. ‘Where’d she go?’

  ‘To a house in the canyon.’

  ‘She suspect anythin’?’ Jerry asked.

  ‘No,’ Zack said, proudly.

  ‘OK, then,’ I said, ‘let’s go. Get us there as fast as you can, Zack.’

  ‘You got it, boss.’

  It wasn’t fast enough.

  FORTY

  The house he took Peggy Kendall to was in Laurel Canyon.

  ‘Here?’ I asked, when he pulled up in front.

  ‘I swear.’

  ‘Geez,’ Jerry said, ‘this is the opposite of the Nickel.’

  ‘It sure is,’ Zack said. ‘The fella who owns this place has millions.’

  ‘So why would Peggy Kendall come here?’ I asked.

  ‘Maybe he’s her sugar daddy,’ Zack said.

  ‘Believe me,’ I said, ‘this dame doesn’t have a sugar daddy. Those days are over for her.’

  Zack shrugged. ‘She looked pretty good to me.’

  Jerry and I got out of the car.

  ‘Am I waitin’?’ Zack asked. ‘Meter runnin’?’

  ‘Meter runnin’,’ I said. ‘Thanks, Zack.’

  He nodded and closed his eyes.

  Jerry and I walked up the path to the front door. It was the kind of house a rich-but-not-paranoid man would have, without iron gates and alarms.

  ‘Pretty nice,’ Jerry said. ‘You think the Kendall babe owns it?’
>
  ‘That’d be somethin’, wouldn’t it?’ I asked. ‘Why would she be singin’ in a dive on the Nickel?’

  ‘Maybe nobody else will hire her,’ Jerry said. ‘We ain’t heard her sing. We don’t know how good she is.’

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘that’s not what we’re here to find out.’

  I rang the doorbell, then knocked. We went back to the cab.

  ‘Zack?’

  His eyes popped open. ‘Done already?’

  ‘No. Did you see the woman go in after you dropped her off?’

  ‘I sure did,’ he said. ‘She rang the bell, and somebody opened the door.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, ‘go back to sleep.’

  Jerry and I returned to the front door. We tried the bell again, then knocked.

  ‘Let’s go around the back.’ We started, and then I stopped. ‘Maybe we should move Zack. Somebody might call the cops.’

  ‘I don’t think so, Mr G.,’ he said. ‘How many burglars do you know who take a cab to their job and have the driver wait out front?’

  He was right. We were safer with Zack right where he was.

  Around back we found a deck that overlooked a beautiful view of the canyons. At night you’d be able to make out city lights.

  There were sliding glass doors on the deck that Jerry said he could open. It took him about twenty seconds to prove it.

  ‘There ya go, Mr G., but lemme go in first, OK?’

  ‘Be my guest.’

  Jerry took the .45 from his belt and stepped inside. I went in behind him and was immediately hit by the air-conditioning. It was freezing inside.

  Jerry held his arm out to keep me from moving past him until he was sure.

  ‘I think it’s clear, Mr G.’

  ‘OK, let’s have a look around.’

  ‘But let’s stay together.’

  ‘OK, Mother.’

  Actually, I was very happy to stay with Jerry. His presence and the gun in his fist were very comforting.

  The house was quiet – too damn quiet. There was no movement and no voices.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ I said.

  ‘There ain’t no cars outside,’ Jerry said. ‘Maybe the girl came and left.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe.’

  We moved around the first floor of the house and found it to be spotless.

  ‘You know what this makes me think of, Mr G.?’ Jerry asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘One of them model houses,’ he said. ‘Like nobody lives here.’

  ‘I agree,’ I said. ‘And I hope that’s the case.’

  We moved up to the second floor. All the bedroom doors were closed.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ I said again.

  ‘Me, neither.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, ‘we’ll open them together, one at a time.’

  We moved down the hall. The first door opened on to a bedroom where the bed was made and the closet was empty. Jerry checked the dresser drawers, which were also empty.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ I said, looking around.

  ‘This could be a drop house,’ Jerry said.

  ‘Does that mean what it sounds like?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘just a place that’s used for a ransom drop. Nobody lives here.’

  ‘So why’d the woman come here?’

  He shrugged. ‘To meet somebody. And then they left.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’

  He wasn’t.

  FORTY-ONE

  We found Peggy Kendall in the third bedroom.

  The second was the same as the first – pristine.

  The third bedroom was as neat and tidy as the rest, except for the fact that Peggy Kendall was lying on her back on the bed.

  ‘Crap,’ I said.

  Jerry moved to her. She’d been laid out right on top of the bedspread.

  ‘She’s dead, Mr G.,’ he said. ‘Strangled.’

  ‘Shit,’ I said, ‘we should’ve stayed with her.’

  ‘Not our fault, Mr G.,’ Jerry said. ‘Now we know why the air-conditioning is turned so high.’

  ‘They were expectin’ her to be here so long she might start to stink?’ I asked.

  ‘Or …’ he said.

  I knew what he meant.

  We left the room to check the other bedrooms. In the last one we found a man, also lying on his back across a bed.

  ‘Also strangled,’ Jerry said, ‘but I bet he’s been dead for days, maybe longer.’

  The air-conditioning again.

  ‘Whataya wanna bet?’ Jerry asked.

  ‘Jimmy Jacks?’

  ‘Who else?’

  Jerry patted the corpse down, came up with a wallet. He opened it and pulled out a driver’s license.

  ‘James Jacks,’ he read. ‘Born 1918.’

  That made Jacks forty-four years old, which matched what we were looking at. In fact, in death he looked even older.

  ‘Brown hair, brown eyes,’ Jerry said.

  ‘Well, except for some of the grey in his hair, it matches,’ I said.

  ‘You want me to open his eyes?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘just keep lookin’ in his wallet until you come up with a PI license.’

  ‘Right. Got it!’ He held the ID up to show me.

  ‘So it’s him,’ I said. ‘Put it all back, Jerry, just in case we don’t call the cops. We want everything to look untouched.’

  He replaced the wallet inside the jacket of Jacks’ cheap suit and smoothed down the lapels.

  ‘Why would we call the cops, Mr G.?’ he asked.

  ‘Why, indeed?’ I said.

  ‘They’d have us stuck in interrogation for days,’ Jerry said.

  ‘It’s the right thing for us to do, but …’

  ‘It ain’t the smart play,’ Jerry finished.

  ‘No, it’s not,’ I said. ‘The smart play is for us to get out of here right now.’

  We made sure the room was the way we found it, then wiped down all the doorknobs on our way back down the hall to the stairs.

  On the first floor we did the same, using our handkerchiefs to wipe prints away, finally working our way back to the doors we used to get in.

  ‘Better clean the glass,’ I said. ‘I don’t remember if we touched it.’

  We each worked on one of the doors, and then headed back to the cab.

  ‘So,’ Jerry said, ‘what are these murders about – you or Miss Garland?’

  ‘I don’t see how this can be connected to the hit on me,’ I said. ‘It’s got to be Judy.’

  ‘I agree.’

  ‘So what we have to figure out now is whether she’s in any immediate danger?’

  ‘What if somebody’s tryin’ to cover their tracks so they can make some more money off of her?’

  ‘You might be right, but we can’t take the chance.’

  ‘So do we tell her managers so they can do somethin’?’

  ‘You want to trust them with her safety?’

  ‘Not a chance,’ he said, ‘and not that boyfriend of hers, neither.’

  ‘It’s up to us,’ I said, ‘or maybe I should say, Frank, to convince her.’

  ‘Convince her of what?’

  ‘To move.’

  ‘Where do you wanna put ’er?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said, as we got to the front of the house. ‘We’ll have to figure that out. For now, maybe we should just take her to the bungalow.’

  ‘The cops’ll be lookin’ for us there.’

  ‘We can talk to them about the car bomb,’ I said. ‘We’ve got nothin’ to hide, there.’

  ‘Except for the fact that there’s a contract out on you.’

  ‘Once they check me out and see who I work for and where, that won’t surprise them. And if they talk to Hargrove in Vegas, they’ll know all they need to know. He’ll make sure of that.’

  We got into the back seat of the cab, jarring Zack from his latest nap.

  ‘Done already?’ he asked. ‘Where to?’

  I gave him
Judy Garland’s address.

  FORTY-TWO

  When we reached her house, we immediately looked for Kenny Boyd.

  ‘What’s up?’ he asked.

  ‘You got a car?’

  He nodded. ‘Parked around the corner.’

  I looked at Jerry. ‘Pay Zack off and let him go. We’ll use Kenny’s car.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Use my car for what?’ Boyd asked.

  ‘Come inside,’ I said. ‘We’ll tell you at the same time we tell Judy.’

  He shrugged and followed. Harrington let us in, and I left the door ajar for Jerry, who joined us in the living room.

  ‘Now what’s this all about?’ Judy asked.

  ‘You have to pack,’ I said.

  ‘Why? Where am I going?’

  I started to answer, then stopped and looked at Harrington.

  ‘You can speak in front of him,’ Judy said. ‘He’s been with me for years.’

  I looked at Harrington, who sent an expressionless stare back at me.

  ‘Judy, we found two dead bodies today.’

  ‘That’s awful!’ She put her hands over her mouth. ‘Who were they?’

  ‘Well, one of them was a private detective who was involved in the blackmail payout earlier this year.’

  ‘He made the drop?’ Kenny Boyd asked.

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Who was he?’

  ‘A guy named Jimmy Jacks.’

  Boyd made a face. ‘A bottom feeder. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t the blackmailer himself.’

  ‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘We’re talking about fifty grand. I think he would’ve blown town with that kind of money.’

  ‘He might not have had time,’ Jerry said.

  ‘I can look into him, if you want.’

  ‘I told Hiller I’d only be using you for surveillance.’

  Boyd shrugged. ‘I’d do it on my own time, off the clock.’

  ‘That’s so sweet of you, Kenny,’ Judy said.

  The tough little guy blushed.

  ‘Kenny, for now I’d like you to stay with Judy.’

  ‘Where?’ he asked.

  ‘At my hotel,’ I said. ‘We have a bungalow at the Beverly Hills.’

  ‘I’ve never been there,’ Kenny said.

  ‘Oh, you’ll love it, Kenny,’ Judy said.

  ‘We can take her in without going through the lobby,’ I said.

  ‘OK,’ Boyd said, ‘but I can do a lot just on the phone.’

  ‘That’s OK.’ I looked at Judy. ‘Can you travel light?’