“Okay,” I said, “okay.”
“Maybe I should go and talk to this chick,” Frank suggested.
“Well, one of the other things she told me was that she didn’t like you,” I said. “If that’s true she won’t talk to you.”
“How could she not like me?” he demanded. “We’ve never met.”
“Apparently, she thinks you’re a bad influence on her sister.”
“What about her? She’s betting money by the bucket up there. What kind of influence is she?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out,” I said. “It’s time for me and sister Lily to have another talk.”
* * *
I had Jerry walk Frank to the elevator, to make sure he got there safe. I also didn’t want him changing his mind about talking to Lily.
While Jerry was gone I went to the front desk to check and see if Lily had deposited anything in the hotel safe—like a chunk of money. She was pulling it out of her purse by the bundle, So she had to have more of it somewhere. The word I got from the desk, though, was that she hadn’t deposited a thing.
I asked for the head of security before going to find Jerry again. I needed a favor, and by dropping Entratter’s name I got it.
* * *
I intercepted Jerry before he could reenter the casino.
“I’m gonna get you into Lily D’Angeli’s room,” I said. “I want you to search it while I keep her busy.”
“What am I lookin’ for?”
“Anything,” I said. “Money, anything written down, like an address or phone number.”
“Okay.”
I handed him a key I’d gotten from security, with the promise that I’d return it within the hour. It took a lot of talking for me to convince them that they didn’t have to go to the room with Jerry.
I grabbed Jerry’s arm before he could get away.
“This needs to be done neatly, Jerry.”
“Neatly?” He frowned.
“By that I mean don’t toss the room,” I said. “I don’t want her to know it’s been searched. Can you do that?”
“I can be neat,” he promised.
“Okay, then,” I said. “I’ll see you down here in a while. Try to be quick about it, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold her.”
“I got faith in you, Mr. G.”
“I’ve got faith in you, too, Jerry.”
Forty-Five
I WENT BACK TO THE BLACKJACK TABLES and Lily was still there. In fact, she was now the only player at that table. I caught the eye of the pit boss. It was John Kelly, the guy who had asked me about raising the table limit for Vic Damone.
“John, how long has she been playing?” I asked.
“About an hour.”
“How much has she lost?”
“Ten grand, I guess,” he said. “She started out winning, was up about that much. Is somethin’ wrong with this twist? She’s playing cash. Keeps diggin’ it out of her purse.”
“No, nothing’s wrong, but I’m gonna have to take her off the table for a while. I have to talk to her.”
“That’s Jake with me, Eddie. She’s about due to start winnin’ again, anyway.”
“Go back to work and don’t worry.”
“I ain’t worried,” he said. “She’s a looker, though. You got a beef with her—”
“I’m workin’ here, John,” I said. “Jack wants me to check her out.” At the mention of Entratter’s name his eyes widened. John Kelly was the youngest pit boss in the Sands and even though it was Jack himself who promoted him, Kelly was afraid of him.
“Oh, okay, I see,” he stammered. “I’ll, uh, go back to work.”
“Good idea.”
I waited for him to retake his position in the pit, and then moved up behind Lily. This was the first time I was close enough to see her cards. She had fifteen and asked for a hit. The dealer gave her a seven, so she busted at twenty-two.
“You should always stay on fifteen,” I said.
“Fuck off,” she said, “I’ve got a system.”
I sidled up next to her and said, “It doesn’t look like a very good one.”
“Hey, who the hell—” she started, but when she turned her head and saw me her mouth snapped shut.
“Why do I get the feelin’ you’re not the demure sister I thought you were?”
I could see her brain working behind her eyes. Stay with her story or admit she’d been found out and try something new?
“Look,” she finally said, “my sister doesn’t know I gamble. It’s not something I’m proud of.”
“Well taking a hit on fifteen,” I said, “I wouldn’t think so.”
“Eddie—”
“Cash in your chips, Lily,” I said, “we’re going to have another talk.”
* * *
The only place to take somebody to have a private talk in the Sands would be an office off the casino floor. But I didn’t have an office and at that moment I didn’t want to take the time to try to borrow one. That left the lounge or the coffee shop, which is where I usually ended up with somebody like Jerry, or Joey Bishop, or even Entratter himself. But I didn’t want to go into the lounge with Lily in case Bev was there, and I’d just recently been in the coffee shop with Hargrove, the cop.
So I said to Lily D’Angeli, “Let’s go for a walk.”
She cashed out her chips, shoved the money into her purse, then stepped down off her stool, clutching the bag to her.
“I’m not gonna steal your bag,” I said. “Between the two of us, I’m the one fellin’ the truth about what I’m doing.”
“Look, I—”
“Save it for outside,” I said, taking her by the arm.
“I could scream, you know,” she threatened, taking quick steps to keep up as I headed for the door.
“Go ahead,” I said. “This is my casino, remember?”
She closed her mouth and came along a lot easier.
Once we were outside on the street I released her arm. She rubbed it, as if I’d hurt her, but the guilt act wasn’t going to work with me. “Is it safe to be out here at night?” she asked.
“Safe,” I said, “and pretty. Look at all the lights.”
“What’s that over there, all lit up?”
I knew what she meant without turning my head.
“That’s the Flamingo.”
“Bugsy Siegel’s place?” Her eyes widened.
“That’s right.”
“Can we get a drink in Bugsy’s Bar?” she asked.
“Sure, why not.”
We started walking toward the Flamingo. She stared at the famous names on the marquees—Nat King Cole, Keeley Smith—with big eyes. She was wearing glasses, maybe because she needed them to see the cards better. She hadn’t been wearing them the first time we met. She was beautiful, whether it was the neon lighting her, or the moon.
“You’re staring,” she said, then suddenly grabbed the glasses and went, “Oh.”
“Leave them on, if you need them,” I said. “They look good.”
“Mary always said—oh, never mind.” But she put them back on. The lenses gave her only a slightly myopic look. The frames were made of plastic and were hardly noticeable.
“What’s going on, Lily?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Supposedly you came here to help your sister, not to gamble.”
“I got bored in my room,” she said. “I was only doing it to pass the time.”
“Thirty grand to pass the time?”
She firmed her chin.
“It’s my money. I saved it. I can do what I want with it.”
“That’s very true.”
While lots of places and people involved with Vegas have gotten a bad rap over the years, the Flamingo and Bugsy Siegel were not among them. Sure, it cost Bugsy six million instead of two to build it, and it was a flop when he opened, and eventually the mob had him killed and replaced him with someone who made it a success, but to most people Benny
Siegel is still seen as the man who “discovered” Las Vegas. The Flamingo is still perceived as the “first” Las Vegas casino. Neither of those things is true. Herb McDonald’s El Rancho Vegas predates the Flamingo, as does The Frontier. But more than that, Bugsy did not even break ground on what soon became the Flamingo. It had already been started by the time he came on the scene. About the only thing Bugsy could take real credit for was the name “Flamingo,” which was a nickname he gave Virginia Hill. And even then the place had been renamed The “Fabulous” Flamingo in 1952.
But to certain parties it would always be Bugsy’s Place.
Bugsy’s Bar was right in the center of the casino on a raised floor. It was a Wednesday night and even in a town that never sleeps some nights are better than others to do certain things. Midweek was still the best time to be in a bar at night. Like most towns Friday and Saturday were the busiest, but on this night we were able to get two stools at the bar together, and the noise decibel would not keep us from hearing each other speak.
I realized while we were waiting for the bartender to bring our drinks—beer for me and a Manhattan for the lady—that I had apparently taken Jerry’s assurance to heart that there was no hit out on me. Why else would I have left the Sands without him? Suddenly, I looked at the men around us to see if anyone was paying attention to us. They were, but it was only because of Lily.
When the bartender brought our drinks she grabbed hers like a drowning woman. She held it with both hands and gulped.
“Lily, suppose you start by telling me why you really came to Vegas?” I said.
“I told you,” she said. “To see if I could help my sister.”
“That wasn’t on the level, Lily.”
“It was,” she said. “The part that wasn’t on the level was me being, uh, sort of—”
“A prude?”
“Well, yeah . . .”
“Why’d you tell me that?”
“Because it’s worked on men before.”
“So you and your sister aren’t so different?.”
“Let’s just say we’re a lot more alike than I let on,” she said. “But Mary’s always been more, um, obvious than I have.”
“Like the blond hair?”
“Right.”
“So what do you really do for a living?”
“Oh, that part was true,” she said. “I really am a bookkeeper.”
“Lily,” I asked, “do you know where Mary is?”
“No, I don’t. Really.”
“And you really did send her some money?”
“You know I did,” she said. “You found the Western Union office I sent it to.”
That was true.
“I told her I’d come and meet her but she said no, just send the money.”
“But you came, anyway.”
“Yes.”
“And you brought some money with you for her?”
“Right.”
“And a whole bunch to gamble with.”
She bit her lip.
“And it’s not yours?”
She finished her drink and put the empty glass on the bar. The barman must have been watching her because he set another down within seconds.
“I wanted to bring Mary enough to do her some good.”
“So you . . . borrowed it?”
“I thought I could come here, use my system and replace the money when I got home.”
“You really do have a system?”
“Of course.”
“That calls for you to hit on fifteen?”
She gave me a dirty look.
“It’s a system, it takes time to work.”
“Lily ... you embezzled money from your employer to gamble with?”
“Well,” she said with a shrug, “I borrowed it from my boss.” “Without him knowing it?”
“Kinda.”
“What happens when he realizes it’s gone,” I said. “Won’t he call the police?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He can’t.”
“Why not?” I asked, and then it dawned on me. “Jesus, he’s not mobbed up, is he? A mob accountant?”
“No, no, of course not,” she said.
“Then what—”
“He, uh . . .”
“Just spit it out, Lily.”
“Fine,” she said. “He kinda stole it himself.”
Forty-Six
“OKAY," I SAID, “let me get this straight—your boss is the embezzler?”
“Right.”
“And you stole the money from him.”
“Borrowed,” she said. “I’m going to give it back when I get home.” “Isn’t he wondering where it is right now?” I asked.
“Maybe,” she said, “but he can’t go to the cops, and he can’t tell his wife—”
“His wife?”
She nodded. “He’d have to tell her we’ve been sleeping together.”
“You’ve been sleeping with your boss, the embezzler? And you borrowed money from him that he stole. And I was supposed to believe that of the two sisters you were the prude?”
“Well,” she said, looking at me demurely above her drink, “I told you that was a lie.”
“And that was the only lie?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m really here to try to help Mary.”
“And make some money gambling in the meanwhile.”
“It was an opportunity I had to take,” she explained. “Roger will understand. Who knows when I’d get the chance to come to Vegas again?”
“Roger?”
“My boss. Roger—”
I held up my hand and said, “I don’t need to know his name.” Whoever stole the money—her boss, her—I didn’t need to get involved in that. She could deal with the consequences of that when she got back home.
“Look,” she said, “I’m sorry I played the poor-little-pitiful-me card on you and your handsome friend.”
“Danny,” I said. “What happened to him?”
“When I wouldn’t let him in my room to comfort me he said he had to go.”
“You didn’t let him in?”
“Well, I might have,” she said, “but I wanted to get to the blackjack table.”
“Why would you choose to play in the Sands,” I asked, “where I might see you?”
“You told me you weren’t working your regular job,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d be around. And besides, I really don’t have to explain myself to you. If I want to play blackjack I can.”
“You’re right,” I said. “If you want to sleep with your boss, and steal money that he already stole, come to Vegas and gamble it, that’s your business.”
“Thank you.”
“Um,” I said, “how much did you ... borrow?”
She stared at me. “You’re not going to turn me in?”
“No,” I said. “I’ve got other fish to fry, Lily. I’m just... curious.”
She hesitated, then said, “Fifty thousand.”
“Fifty—?” I stopped and lowered my voice. “Fifty thousand?”
“That’s right.”
“You don’t have it all in your purse right now, do you?”
“No.”
“It’s in your room?”
“Well, yes,” she said. “I did hide it, but your maids wouldn’t steal, would they?”
“Hell,” I said, “every chance they get. Come on.” I tossed some money on the bar.
“Where?”
“We’re gonna get that money into a safe,” I said. “You can withdraw it whenever you want to play.”
“B-but. . . it’s stolen,” she whispered.
“Nobody knows that but you and me.”
* * *
We were on our way up in the elevator before I realized what the heck I was doing. Jerry could have still been searching her room and I was bringing her up there myself. I checked my watch. If he did it the way we had planned, he’d be gone by now.
And he was. The room was empty a
nd—from what I could see— didn’t look as if it had been tossed. It smelled heavily of her perfume. I tried to remember if Jerry wore aftershave or cologne, but there wasn’t a hint of either in the air. The room looked kind of messy, but she had freshened up and changed her clothes—a similar suit in a different color—and I assumed the mess was hers.
“Okay,” I said, “let’s get the money and take it downstairs.”
Suddenly, she stopped and turned to look at me. I could read her face. She was alone in her room with a man she barely knew, and most of fifty thousand dollars.
“Lily,” I said, “I’m not going to steal your money.”
“How do I know that?” she asked. “You know that it’s already stolen. You could take it and I couldn’t do a thing.”
I waggled my index finger at her and said, “Now you’re trying to talk me into it.”
She studied me for a moment, then said, “Okay, I’m going to trust you.”
“Good.”
She turned to get the money, then turned back.
“Isn’t this what high rollers do?”
“What?”
“Put their money in the hotel safe.”
“Some do.”
“So I’m a high roller?”
“Technically.”
“Then shouldn’t I have a bigger room?”
I had put her in a standard, one big bed, a chest of drawers, a chair, a table and a TV
“This’ll do,” I said. “Let’s not push it. Remember, we both know where the money came from.”
“Right,” she said. “No harm in asking.”
She had loosened up quite a bit—in part, probably, because of the two drinks. When she wasn’t playing the prudish sister she was beautiful and sexy, without even trying to be. I suddenly became the one aware of how alone we were. There I was with a gorgeous, sweet-smelling girl and fifty thousand dollars. The girl or the money would have been a big temptation to most men. But both . . .
I shook my head. I may have been a lot of things, but a thief wasn’t one of them, not even if—technically speaking—I was employed by the mob.
She pulled a bundle wrapped in brown paper from beneath the bed, bending over and giving me a good look at her ass and garters.
[Rat Pack 02] - Luck Be a Lady, Don't Die Page 15
