When Somebody Kills You

by Robert J. Randisi

  ‘If there really was a blackmailer,’ Jerry said, ‘and he hired Jacks, then he killed him, too.’

  ‘So now we’re back to a real blackmailer?’ Boyd asked.

  ‘We were never off it,’ I said. ‘We’ve simply got two theories.’

  ‘Maybe the Bagel guy got himself a partner he couldn’t control,’ Jerry said, ‘and he killed Jacks and the girl.’

  ‘Boyd,’ I said, ‘how you comin’ findin’ out who owns that house?’

  ‘Still workin’,’ Boyd said. ‘I’m waitin’ for some callbacks.’

  ‘The answer to that question might help us a lot,’ I said, gesturing with the last bite of my donut before popping it into my mouth.

  ‘As soon as I get it, I’ll let you know. But I hadda give out the phone number here.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ I said.

  ‘Well, I’m stuffed,’ Judy said.

  ‘You’re finished?’ Jerry said.

  ‘Yes, but you don’t have to be,’ she said. ‘Keep eating. I’m going to watch some television.’ She stood up to leave, then asked, ‘Eddie, is it all right if I call Mark?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said, ‘but how about tomorrow? Let’s leave the phone open tonight so Kenny can get his callbacks.’

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘I guess I can do it when I call Sid and Freddie.’

  ‘Right.’

  She left the kitchen and the three of us continued to eat. We had wine, but I’d noticed that Judy hadn’t had any.

  ‘You gonna let her talk to that Herron guy?’ Jerry asked when we heard the TV go on.

  ‘I don’t know how long we can keep them from talkin’,’ I said.

  ‘Ain’t she gonna marry the guy?’ Boyd asked.

  ‘Yeah, but Jerry doesn’t think it’s such a good idea.’

  Boyd looked at Jerry, who said, ‘He ain’t good enough for her,’ and left it at that.

  By the time we finished eating, there were still leftovers in the boxes, which made Jerry very happy. He had a snack all ready for later.

  ‘You want me to stay around tonight?’ Boyd asked. ‘I can sack out on the couch.’

  ‘Jerry’s on the couch,’ I said, ‘but maybe we could get you a room.’

  ‘Nah, I meant so’s I’m around if there’s trouble,’ Boyd said. ‘I could sleep in my car.’

  ‘Kenny, why don’t you go home and get a good night’s rest,’ I said. ‘Come back in the morning, and you can stay with Judy while Jerry and I go out.’

  ‘You got it, Eddie,’ Boyd said. ‘I’ll have a look around outside before I go. I won’t come back in unless I spot somethin’.’

  ‘Good.’

  He said goodnight, then went into the other room to say goodnight to Judy. We heard the front door open and close.

  ‘I’m gonna clean up this mess,’ Jerry said.

  ‘I’m gonna go and sit with Judy for a while,’ I said.

  I started to leave the room and Jerry said, ‘Hey, Mr G.’

  When I turned, he nodded at the glass of wine in my hand. ‘You think that’s such a good idea?’

  ‘You’re right,’ I said, and put the glass down. If Judy was trying to stay clean, there was no point in drinking in front of her. ‘Good thinking.’

  He gave me a nod and turned to the sink with an armful of dishes.

  FIFTY

  Judy flashed me a big smile as I entered the room. She had her legs curled beneath her, and patted the cushion next to her.

  ‘Come and sit with me.’

  I sat down and stared at the TV. ‘Red Skelton?’ I said.

  ‘I’m just staring. I actually turned the sound down.’

  That was when I noticed it was just Skelton mugging for the camera, doing Gertrude and Heathcliffe.

  ‘Who’s he got tonight?’ I asked.

  ‘Vic Damone and Gale Garnett.’

  I nodded.

  ‘Do you want the sound on?’ she asked.

  ‘No, it’s OK,’ I said. ‘I thought maybe we’d talk.’

  ‘Of course. About what?’

  ‘Everything,’ I said, ‘anything. Something you think might help?’

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t know what I can tell you.’

  ‘Have you been able to recall whether or not there actually was a photo taken like the one Begelman described?’

  She sighed, put her hand to her forehead. ‘No. Like I told you, there could have been, but I don’t remember … I mean, I might not remember …’ She fell silent for a few moments. I felt she was working herself up to something, so I let her be.

  ‘You know,’ she said, ‘when I was young – a little girl, really – and signed a studio contract, they were worried that I’d get fat. They supervised everything I ate, everything I put into my body, but in the end they figured out a way to keep me from gaining weight.’

  ‘And that was?’

  ‘Pills.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘Oh, my mother got me started, really, first to keep me going, then to sleep. And then the studio ended up getting me hooked on pills,’ she said. ‘Once you’re addicted to something, you have an addictive personality. Pills, booze, drugs … a little bit of everything. So, there have been times when I didn’t know where I was or what I was doing. A photo could have been taken during one of my dark times.’

  ‘I see.’

  She was hugging herself, as if she was cold. On the screen Red was being Clem Kadiddlehopper, and Vic Damone played some other hick.

  ‘Go ahead,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Ask what you want to ask,’ she said, spreading her arms. ‘I’m an open book to you, Eddie G. Otherwise, how can you help me?’

  ‘Did you have any blackouts in Australia?’ I asked. ‘What was it, Sydney and …’

  ‘Melbourne,’ she said. ‘Sydney went well, even though there was a problem accommodating all of the people who turned out. Melbourne … well, that was a disaster.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I was an hour late to the show. Everybody thought it was because I was drunk. After forty-five horrible minutes I ran off the stage.’

  ‘But you weren’t drunk.’

  ‘No’

  ‘Or high on anything?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So what was it?’

  ‘I was … scared. I felt I was being followed, watched – not just by an audience. I didn’t know if someone was going to try to … hurt me while I was on stage.’

  ‘What about London?’

  ‘London was a dream,’ she said. ‘I had Mark with me, and Liza, of course. She was wonderful! I was so proud of her, I had no time to worry about anything else.’

  ‘Wasn’t Mark with you in Australia?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You said London was a dream because you had Mark with you,’ I repeated. ‘But Mark was also with you in Australia – wasn’t he?’

  ‘Well, yes …’

  ‘Why didn’t you feel safe there but you did feel safe in London?’

  She shrugged. ‘Maybe because I had Liza with me in London. I trust her.’

  There was a chink in the armor of the pending Judy/Mark Herron wedding.

  ‘So … you don’t trust Mark?’

  She took a moment, as if composing her thoughts. ‘I have a bad history when it comes to trusting people,’ she said. ‘My mother, Louis Mayer, my ex-husband Sid … I had someone I thought was a friend when I was twenty – Liz Asher. She was about five years older than me, and I thought … I thought we were like sisters, but I found out she was just a spy for Mayer, reporting back to him on everything I said and did. So, while I want to trust Mark, there’s just too much in my history …’ She trailed off, tears in her eyes.

  ‘And Frank?’

  ‘Frank is my friend,’ she said. ‘He proved that when he sent you to me.’ She reached out and took my hand. ‘I’d like to trust you, Eddie. So far, you haven’t given me any reason not to.’

  ‘I’ll try hard never to do that, Judy. You can depend
on me.’

  ‘Thank you, Eddie. Hopefully, when all this is over, I’ll be able to walk a new path in my life.’

  ‘I noticed you didn’t drink any wine with dinner,’ I said.

  ‘I’m trying to stay sober,’ she said, releasing my hand. ‘No booze, no pills. It’s not easy, especially when I’m feeling stressed.’

  ‘And this is about as stressful as it gets.’

  ‘What about you?’ she asked. ‘Knowing that someone hates you enough to pay to have you killed? That must be stressful.’

  ‘Very,’ I said. ‘I should probably apologize for putting you in the line of fire.’

  ‘You didn’t know they’d follow you here,’ she said. ‘Besides, they’re after you, not me.’

  ‘An innocent bystander has already been hurt,’ I said.

  ‘And somebody killed that private detective, Jacks, supposedly because of someone blackmailing me. See? We’ve each put the other in the line of fire. No apologies, OK, Mr Gianelli?’

  I smiled. ‘No apologies, Miss Garland.’

  We turned the sound up in time to hear Gale Garnett sing ‘We’ll Sing in the Sunshine’.

  ‘Nice song,’ Judy said. ‘Pretty voice.’

  ‘Nice of you to say.’

  ‘What, I can’t compliment other female singers? I think a lot of them are wonderful. Peggy Lee, for instance.’

  ‘What about Peggy Lee?’ Jerry asked, entering the room.

  ‘Good singer,’ I said. ‘At least, according to Judy.’

  ‘Miss Garland should know,’ Jerry said.

  Judy unfurled herself from the sofa. ‘I’m going to my room to read.’

  ‘A new script?’ Jerry asked.

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘just a book. You fellas can turn the sound up more, if you like. It won’t bother me.’

  ‘Goodnight,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, I might come out later for a cup of tea.’

  ‘I’ll make it,’ Jerry offered.

  She blew him a kiss. He sat next to me on the sofa.

  ‘What are ya gonna watch now?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t even know what’s on next.’

  ‘Petticoat Junction.’

  I looked at the TV. It was a commercial.

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘I know my TV listings, Mr G.’

  The opening of Petticoat Junction came on.

  ‘I guess you do.’

  ‘That’s Jeannine Riley. She plays Billie Jo,’ Jerry said. ‘She’s very sexy.’

  ‘Which one is she?’

  ‘The blonde.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Ain’t you ever watched this show?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘I haven’t.’

  ‘See, all the girls are sisters, and they all got “Jo” in their names, like—’

  ‘Jerry,’ I said, ‘that’s OK. I don’t need to know.’

  He pointed to the TV and said, ‘How you gonna know what’s goin’ on?’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll tell me, if I ask.’

  ‘I get it,’ Jerry said, folding his arms. ‘You ain’t interested.’

  ‘Don’t get sore,’ I said. ‘I just don’t like sit-coms.’

  ‘I ain’t sore,’ he said. ‘I’d rather watch dramas, too. It’s just … well, ya know … it’s Billie Jo.’

  ‘OK, then,’ I said, ‘let’s watch Billie Jo.’

  FIFTY-ONE

  We were halfway through The Fugitive when we heard a shot outside.

  ‘What the hell—’ Jerry said, getting to his feet.

  ‘Easy,’ I said. ‘Don’t go runnin’ out there.’

  Judy came hurrying out of her room. ‘Was that a shot?’ Her eyes were wide with fright.

  ‘Sounded like it,’ I said.

  ‘It was,’ Jerry said.

  ‘Couldn’t it have been a car backfiring?’

  ‘No chance,’ Jerry said. ‘Mr G., you better stay inside with Miss Garland. I’ll check it out.’ He had his .45 in his fist.

  ‘Eddie,’ she said, ‘you can’t let him go out there by himself.’

  ‘It’s OK, Miss Garland,’ Jerry said. ‘This is what I do.’

  He headed for the door. I hurried around and caught him before he went out.

  ‘Somebody might be tryin’ to draw us out, Jerry,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll be careful.’

  ‘OK, but let me get the lights first so you’re not backlit.’

  ‘Good thinkin’, Mr G.’

  I turned out all the lights in the room while instructing Judy to stay on the sofa. It was in the center of the room, away from the windows, and was probably the safest place – unless I stuck her under a bed.

  ‘Eddie—’ she said.

  ‘Shhh. Just stay.’

  She shut up.

  I went to the front door, then took a quick step to one side, just in case, and waited …

  Jerry told me later when he walked outside, gun in hand, he paused only long enough for his eyes to get used to the darkness. Then he moved forward in a crouch, which I didn’t think would help him much. He moved to the end of the walk, where he could go either to the hotel lobby or to the street, and stopped to listen. He looked around, saw the hotel lights and heard low voices coming from there, but nothing else.

  He moved toward the street, and the parking lot, where he assumed Boyd would have his car. The little PI had left some time ago, but he might have returned. Jerry would be able to spot his Corvette at a glance, if it was there.

  It was.

  ‘Shit,’ he said under his breath. Why had Boyd come back? Or had he never left?

  He moved into the parking lot, his head swiveling around, trying to look in every direction at one time. The parking lot seemed empty. Apparently, nobody else heard the shot, or they were simply not interested enough to come out and look.

  Holding his .45 tightly, he moved toward the Corvette. All the doors were shut, but as he got closer he noticed a hole in the driver’s side window. A bullet hole. The window had not shattered, but the glass was starred, cracks spreading out from the hole. He moved in closer, grabbed the handle and opened the door …

  I jumped when Jerry knocked on the door. I opened it to let him in. His face looked grave. He was upset.

  ‘Well?’

  He looked over toward where Judy was seated.

  ‘Can we turn on a light?’ she asked.

  ‘Sure,’ I said.

  She turned on a lamp near the sofa.

  ‘Miss Garland, maybe you should—’ Jerry started.

  ‘Come on, Jerry,’ she said. ‘We’re all in this together. What is it?’

  He looked at me. ‘Boyd’s dead.’

  There was a sharp intake of breath from Judy. When I looked at her, she had her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were wet.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I guess he must’ve come back,’ Jerry said. ‘Somebody must’ve been watchin’ the parkin’ lot. They fired one shot through his window. The bullet hit him square in the head.’

  ‘Anybody else out there?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No cops?’

  ‘No,’ Jerry said, ‘not yet, anyways. Somebody might’ve called ’em, but nobody came out to take a look.’

  ‘Christ,’ I said.

  ‘Is Kenny dead because of me?’ Judy asked.

  ‘No, no,’ I said, ‘of course not.’ I looked at Jerry. ‘This has to be because of me.’

  Jerry looked me in the eye and held out a piece of paper. It was an envelope with Kenny’s name on it.

  ‘Turn it over.’

  I did. Someone had written on the back: You’re just as dead as he is, you just don’t know it yet.

  ‘They must have gotten this from his glove compartment,’ Jerry said. ‘Somebody was calm enough to take the time to look for some paper and then write this note.’

  ‘A pro,’ I said.

  He nodded.

  ‘I don’t know what this all means,’ Judy said.

  ‘It mea
ns,’ I said, ‘that we’re all going to Las Vegas.’

  Jerry nodded his approval.

  FIFTY-TWO

  We had a lot of things to do before returning to Vegas.

  ‘Do we call the cops?’ Jerry asked.

  I hesitated, then said, ‘If we don’t, we’ll be in trouble. And if we do, they might keep us from leavin’ town.’

  Still shaken, Judy said, ‘What if we left very early in the morning?’

  ‘Then they’d wonder why,’ I said. ‘Sooner or later somebody’s gonna find the body.’

  ‘Nobody came out to see what happened, but somebody might have called,’ Jerry said.

  ‘Then we’d better call now, before they get here,’ I said. ‘Even if they’ve already been called, it’ll look good if we phone, too.’

  ‘Right,’ Jerry said. ‘You want me to do it?’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ I said. ‘In fact, I’ll ask for Franklin personally. Might earn us some brownie points.’

  ‘Right,’ Jerry said. ‘I’ll go out and keep a lookout for the cops.’

  As he left, I turned toward Judy, and she came and leaned her forehead against my chest.

  ‘Poor Kenny.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I got him killed. I feel like shit.’

  She looked up at me. ‘It’s not your fault, Eddie.’

  ‘I’ll keep tellin’ myself that while I make that call to the police.’

  ‘I’ll make some tea.’

  ‘I’d prefer somethin’ stronger.’

  ‘So would I.’

  She went to the kitchen. I felt like shit, again.

  Jerry came in, said a patrol car had pulled up in the parking lot.

  ‘Should we go out and talk to them?’ he asked.

  ‘Probably,’ I said. ‘After all, he was with us, and we heard the shot. You’re the only one who went out to check on him. I talked to Franklin, and he’s on his way.’

  ‘Let’s go, then.’

  ‘What should I do?’ Judy asked.

  ‘Stay here,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to involve you.’

  ‘But I am involved.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ I said, ‘and Jerry and I are gonna try to keep it that way.’

  ‘All right.’

  I pointed my finger at her. ‘Stay inside. I mean it.’

  She bit her lip and nodded.

  When we got to the parking lot there was a second patrol car there. The cops looked over at us as we approached. One of them held his hand out. He was young, looked as if he hadn’t started to shave yet.