Yes I Can: The Story of Sammy Davis, Jr. (85 page)

A bullet was drawn in the center of the paper. Underneath, it said, “I’m going to shoot you dead during your show. Guess when?”

The threats were obviously from cranks, sadists, all seeming alike—yet among them could be the one that might materialize. How do you guess which one? How do you anticipate the workings of a man’s mind when obviously he himself isn’t in control of it?

It was almost seven o’clock. “Murph, take my car and beat it over to the house and tell Rudy to give you my black double-rig holsters and a box of .45 caliber ammunition.”

“Bullets?”

“Let’s not waste time discussing it. And make damned sure May doesn’t know about this or about the guys we’ve got around her.”

I was dressed when he got back. I buckled on the double rig and checked the gun on the right, the one I’d use for the tricks. I looked into the openings of the cylinder and saw the paper wadding at the
tips of the blank cartridges. From the gun on my left, I removed the blanks and replaced them with lead-nosed .45 caliber bullets.

Murphy had been watching me silently. “Sammy, you’re not going to go on the stage like that?”

“Well, you’d better believe that I’m not about to let myself get shot by some fanatic climbing onto the stage and then for my big satisfaction as I’m dying somebody says, ‘Don’t worry, the cops arrested him.’ ” I unbuckled the holsters. “Unfortunately, I can’t walk on and do the opening numbers wearing guns but have this ready ‘cause I’m going to move the gun tricks up early and then I’ll just not bother to take the holsters off. Now do me a favor and go get May’s tickets, baby.”

I was putting on my make-up when he returned, shaking his head sadly. “The Nazis are picketing us again.” Steve Blauner, Bobby Darin’s manager and a dear friend of mine, came in behind him, chalky-faced and out of breath, his tie pulled away from his collar. I jumped up. “What happened?”

Murphy said, “I’d just picked up the tickets when I saw these guys with signs and a crowd standing by watching them. Then here comes Steve and he grabs the sign from one of them and breaks it over his knee. The guy starts to argue so Steve raps him in the mouth.
Now
the crowd started closing in and it’s a good thing there were cops around or there’d be a bunch of dead Nazis out there now. The police took them away into protective custody.”

I looked at Steve. “Thank you. That was beautiful of you.” I straightened his tie, appreciating the affection for me that had turned a gentle, nice man into a street fighter.

At eight o’clock May came in with Jim and Luddy. Her face was drawn tight by worry. “Sammy, do you think you should go on?”

“You’re making a whole thing out of nothing. I admit I was a little concerned when I called you, but let’s be realistic. When someone really intends to blow up a theater he’s not likely to warn you so that you can stop him, right?”

“But why don’t you put the opening off for a few days so the police will have time to be sure?”

I put my hands on her shoulders. “Darling, know now: I’m not doing hero bits, with reckless and dramatic and the-show-must-go-on. But I can’t let myself be chased off the stage by anyone who makes a threat or I’m going to spend the rest of my life running from shadows.”

She nodded reluctantly, “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am. Now you guys go to your seats and relax. I’ll see you at intermission.” I held her face in my hands and kissed her forehead. “You look beautiful.”

I walked to the wings. Policemen were stationed in pairs all over the backstage area. I looked through the curtains. She was in her seat, talking to Jim and Luddy, and I got some comfort from seeing the men unobtrusively surrounding her.

I scanned the faces around the theater. How do I entertain them while wondering if a bomb will explode? How do I do two hours of singing, dancing and jokes, distracted by the thought that at any moment a lunatic might shoot me?

Morty started the overture. Murphy was standing right behind me. He knew I wouldn’t need him for at least fifteen minutes, but he was there with the holsters, his hand gripping the butt of one gun.

The audience was applauding, waiting for me.

May was gazing at the wall next to the dining table, her arms folded, eyes focused on something that wasn’t there but which I had a feeling was going to be. She began nodding, agreeing with herself. “Do you know what we should have? An old-fashioned bell-pull. Do you know what I mean?”

“Sure, like Vincent Price always has.”

‘That’s right. I hate ringing a bell at the table like a village crier, or stabbing around under the table with my foot trying to find a buzzer under the carpet.” A shade of doubt crossed her face. “You don’t think it might be a little showy?”

“Only if after you ring it there ain’t no butler to come out.”

The decorator stuck his head out of the bedroom. “The carpet is down in the bathrooms, Miss Britt.”

She beamed. “Come on, let’s look.”

“Darling, I love everything you’re doing, but I’m getting out of here this second ‘cause I’m hip it starts with ‘Isn’t this beautiful?’ but it ends with that cat telling me, ‘Stand in the shower and see if it’s comfortable.’ ”

As she walked me to the door I said, “You’re taking your folks to Romanoff’s tonight, right? I called Mike and he’s expecting you.”

She took my arm. “I must say I like being able to give them such a good time. They’ve never had a vacation like this in their lives. Especially my father.”

I kissed her on the forehead. “Call me at the dressing room.”

She sighed. “I sure wish it was tomorrow morning.” Her eyes flashed with excitement. “Can you believe that we’re actually, really, honest-to-goodness going to get our marriage license?”

I gave her a look. “Darling, there isn’t a chance I wouldn’t believe it. You’ve mentioned it eight times in the last hour.”

She blushed. “What time do you think we’ll go?”

“No rush. They’re not going to run out of licenses. We’ll get our sleep, meet here around noon, have some coffee and we’ll go do it.”

I called Rudy outside. “Do we have any of the paint we use on the garage doors?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Then get some. And a large brush.”

“You gonna start painting doors?”

“Rudy, just have it here, please. I want you to check the garage door the first thing every morning and if anybody’s written anything on it you be ready to cover it up fast.”

I went over to the office to see Jim. He said, “We can’t swing it. I spoke to Pete Pitchess and I spoke to the head of the marriage license department. Everybody has to go to City Hall personally. No exceptions. Even if you were the mayor.”

“If I were the mayor I wouldn’t have to worry that some lunatic might take a shot at my fiancée.” I sat down.

He looked at me consolingly. “Writing hate letters and picketing is one thing, but I don’t think many people would actually cause unprovoked violence.”

“Baby, it only takes one nut to do it. Well, what we
can
do is have the applications filled out in advance and at least cut down the time well have to hang around there. Send a messenger downtown to get some and bring them to the house in the morning.” I reached across his desk for the phone and called Pete Pitchess.

“Sammy, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, Pete. Jim explained it and I understand.”

“What time do you plan to get there?”

“Around noon.”

“Make it ten-thirty so you can be in and out before the lunch hour crowd is on the streets. I called and they’ll be expecting you so you won’t be delayed. And, I’ll have officers around the front of the building.”

I told Jim, “Be at the house at nine. Well fill out the forms and leave at ten. In the Cadillac. The Rolls is too conspicuous. You’ll drop us at City Hall, cruise around for fifteen minutes and then come back.”

May arrived at the house radiant and smiling at nine-thirty. I held out the application blank and a pen but she didn’t take them.

“Aren’t we going to City Hall?”

“Sure we are.” I led her across the room to a table. “I just thought it would be more pleasant to fill out the forms in comfort. Also, it’ll be just that much less time well be pestered for autographs, right?”

She looked at the form, then at me. “Good thinking.” She sighed elaborately. “I’m definitely not in the mood to sign autographs today.”

When we were ready to leave I went into the bedroom and slipped a revolver into the waistband of my trousers. Jim had followed me in. “Sammy,” he spoke quietly, “I’d feel a lot better if when we get there I could go upstairs with you.”

“Thanks, baby, but we’re covered. I’ve got two of the guys I had at the opening. They’ll stick with us ‘til we’re back in the car.”

“Does May know?”

I shook my head. “They’ll stay back. What’s to be gained by frightening her?”

He nodded, his eyes riveted to the area of my waist. “If it came down to it do you think you’d really use that? And maybe kill somebody?”

“If you saw a poisonous snake coiled and ready to strike at Luddy would you think twice about killing him?”

He winced. “It’s a hell of a way to have to go for your marriage license.”

I gave him a shot on the arm. “The big trick when you’re carrying one of these is, when you’re sitting down, you shouldn’t hiccup.”

As we drew up to City Hall I scanned the street, concerned that a license bureau clerk might have leaked word to the press, but there was no sign of any photographers, no crowd. Pete’s officers were spread out around the outside of the building. May squeezed my hand excitedly as I helped her out of the car. We entered the building and my two private detectives left their positions on either side of the doorway and followed us across the lobby.

The elevator stopped at our floor. “To your right, Sammy. Best of luck to you both.”

Halfway down the corridor May increased her pace and in a controlled voice whispered, “I think there are two men following us. I saw them in the lobby.”

I hadn’t counted on her being so aware. I whispered back, “You better believe they’re following us. They work for us.”

“You mean
bodyguards
?”

“Just to keep the crowds away, that’s all….”

We gave our applications to the clerk, who was obviously expecting us. May glanced behind us.

“Darling, sign your application.”

“I only wanted to see if my bodyguards were guarding me.”

Word that we were there had swept through the area and by the time we got downstairs people were swarming into City Hall, crowding around us like it was a movie premiere. The sheriffs deputies broke a path through the mob to the car.

As Jim was driving away May looked behind us. “What happens to my bodyguards?”

“They have to guard somebody else’s body now.”

She frowned. Then, “Hey, that crowd was nice, wasn’t it?”

I smiled, “They couldn’t have been nicer.”

“Sammy, would you give me a light, please? If I’ve got bodyguards then I’m much too important to light my own cigarettes.”

I held my lighter for her. She inhaled deeply. I put my hand on hers and felt it cold and trembling. Her mouth was curved in a smile. But in her eyes there was fear.

The audience was calling me back but Murphy grabbed my arm. “Jim’s on the phone. He says it’s important.” I waved to the stage manager to ring down the curtain and rushed for the phone. “Yes, Jim?”

“Sammy, I’m at May’s house. You’d better get over here.”

I ran to the parking lot, grateful that I was a minute or two ahead of the theater crowd, and tore across to Santa Monica and out past La Brea.

It had to happen. It had to. I’d been so damned afraid to alarm her that I’d left her wide open. If I couldn’t keep her locked up or have her followed around stores, at least I should have had some guys guarding her house. I pushed the speedometer up to 80. A
siren wailed and a red light was flashing in my rear-view mirror. I pulled over quickly. The cop stopped in front of me cutting me off, and got out of his car fast, hand on his gun. I stuck my head out the window. “Officer, I’m Sammy Davis, Jr., my intended wife is hurt, I don’t know how badly and I’m rushing to see her. I know I was speeding but could you possibly let me have the ticket later? I give you my word I’ll come and get it whenever you say.”

He’d flashed a light on my face. He snapped it off and his hand fell away from his gun. “Where does she live, Sam?”

“About eight blocks from here.” I told him the address.

“Let’s go.” He hurried back to his car and led the way, lights flashing, cutting the traffic out like an end making room for the fullback. In front of May’s house, he circled around and called out, “Hope everything’s okay, Sam. Give our best to the lady.”

A doctor was shaking down a thermometer and May was up to her chin in blankets. She made a disgusted face. “Hello there. I’ve got the flu.”

I sank into a chair, falling apart like I’d been held together with a string and somebody had pulled it.

Jim was standing over me. “Maybe you’ve got it, too. You look like hell.”

“Baby, why didn’t you say it was only the flu?”

“You hung up before I had the chance. I called right back but you were gone.” He shook his head slightly. “You’re honed pretty thin, friend.”

The doctor was saying, “Mr. Davis, as I told Miss Britt, she should be well enough by Sunday to stand up for your wedding ceremony, but I strongly advise against her attending the reception. She’s been hit hard by this virus and she’ll be extremely susceptible to germs. The excitement of a party, going in and out of air-conditioned rooms—she really shouldn’t even go to the ceremony, however, I can understand….”

May started to fight him.

“Darling, put the thermometer back in your mouth. It’s a shame to miss the party but it’s really not important.”

The next afternoon she was sitting up in bed going over guest lists and keeping track of the presents that had come in. I took the papers from her. “I have an office with a typewriter and a girl who’s paid to sit in front of it all day long and go plink, plink, plink. Let
her
worry about these things. You rest.” I drew a chair up alongside
her and told her that the wire services,
Life
magazine, the papers, were taking the position that we were unreasonable not to let them in to the wedding.