You Make Me Feel So Dead (16 page)

That was when he told us his story about Amanda and the nosy lady.

‘Let me see the license plate number,' I said.

He took out the notes he'd made and passed them over. The waitress appeared with our plates and we leaned back to allow her to set them down. She took a second look at us but didn't say anything. When she was gone I put the paper on the table to examine. Elvis leaned over as he plucked a French fry from his plate.

‘Look at this,' I said. ‘With the 4 and the G, it's Danny's plate number. But put in the A or the C and it belongs to somebody else.'

‘But who?' Elvis asked.

‘We're going to find out,' I said, folding the paper and tucking it into my pocket. ‘It sounds to me like Hargrove steered this lady toward Danny's plate number.'

‘Yeah, that's what I thought,' Jerry said, around a huge bite of hamburger.

‘We'll find somebody to run these other plates and see who they match.'

‘If we find out it was somebody else's car, won't that clear him?' Elvis asked.

‘Afraid not,' I said. ‘There's still the gun.'

‘What about the gun?' Elvis asked.

‘The cops say the bullet that killed Reynolds came from Danny's gun.'

‘And he says it didn't?'

‘That's right.'

‘And you believe him?'

‘Completely.'

‘Then we need to find the gun that did kill him.'

‘Exactly,' I said.

‘Or who used Danny's gun,' Jerry said.

We both looked at him. Jerry always manages to fool people – even me – about how smart he was.

‘Danny doesn't always carry his gun,' I said. ‘I've got to find out if he had it on him that day.'

‘Does he have another one?' Jerry asked. ‘I mean, I got more than one gun, even though I use a forty-five most of the time.'

‘Yeah, he does,' I said. ‘I don't know how many, or what kind. But Penny probably does.'

‘Maybe not,' Jerry said. ‘A man usually keeps his guns to himself.'

‘That's true,' Elvis agreed.

‘You got guns?' Jerry asked.

‘I got lots of guns,' Elvis said. He took off his sunglasses. ‘You come to Graceland sometime and I'll show you around.'

‘That would be great.'

The waitress came over, edging closer rather than just walking up, and peering at Elvis.

‘I, uh, hey,' she said, ‘are you … are you him? Are you … Elvis Presley?'

He put his glasses back on and said, ‘You know, I get that a lot.' He smiled at her. ‘My name's Buzz.'

As we left the diner Jerry said, ‘Buzz?'

‘Just came up with it,' I said.

‘I like it,' Elvis said. ‘It's nice and simple. And you know what? So's Buzz. His whole life is simple.'

‘You'd rather be Buzz?' Jerry asked.

‘Sometimes,' Elvis said. ‘Yeah, sometimes I would.'

Elvis got in the car, closed the door.

‘Whataya want me to do now, Mr G.?' Jerry asked.

‘Is it OK if you go and talk to the realtor?' I asked.

‘Well, yeah,' he said, ‘why you gotta ask me that?'

‘I don't want you to think I'm sendin' you on errands.'

‘Hey, we're partners, right?' he said. ‘I'll talk to the realtor.'

‘You did good with those women,' I said.

‘The realtor's a guy,' he said. ‘I do better with guys. They're afraid of me.'

‘Women aren't?'

‘Not unless I make 'em,' he said. ‘Women know I ain't gonna hit 'em or nothin' – not unless I have to.'

I wasn't sure I wanted to hear about that part of his business.

‘Well,' I said, ‘don't hit anybody unless you absolutely have to.'

‘OK, Mr G.'

He walked to the Caddy and got in. I went around and got behind the wheel of my borrowed car.

‘I made a mistake in there,' Elvis said.

‘What mistake?'

‘Took off my shades, let my guard down,' he explained. ‘That waitress recognized me.'

‘You convinced her you were Buzz,' I said. ‘No harm done.'

‘You got a friend dependin' on you,' Elvis said. ‘I shouldn't be messin' with that, except …'

‘Except what?'

He turned his head, looked at me from behind those glasses and beneath that hat.

‘Well, today I kinda felt like his life depended on me, too,' he said. ‘I ain't never felt nothin' like that before. What I do ain't so danged important. I kinda liked it.'

‘Well,' I said, ‘keep on liking it. I kinda like havin' you around, so I'm not about to cut you loose now.'

He studied me for a minute, then nodded and said, ‘Well, all right.'

‘I
have to read this file,' I said, as we drove.

‘Let's go to your house,' Elvis said. ‘I wanna see it.'

‘It's no Graceland, my friend.'

‘Remember, I told you about my house in Tupelo,' he said. ‘I'm sure yours is very nice.'

I shrugged, turned the car toward my street.

We pulled up in front and Elvis took a good look.

‘I would have been very happy to live in a house like this,' he said. ‘I bought Graceland so I could take my mama and father in with me. She died before she could really enjoy it.'

‘What did she think of it?' I asked, as we got out of the car.

‘She was overwhelmed,' Elvis said. ‘I think she probably would have preferred a house like this one.'

I unlocked the front door and we went in. Frank, Dino and Sammy had all been to my house at one time. Now Elvis Presley.

‘Yes,' he said, looking around my small but – thankfully – clean living room, ‘she would have loved this. Is that the kitchen?'

‘Yes.'

He went in, looked around, then came back.

‘You've done OK for yourself, Eddie,' he said. ‘It's comfortable. It's … a home.'

‘It's good for me,' I said. ‘I'll make some coffee and then read the file.'

‘Let's both read it,' Elvis said. ‘I want to know what you know.'

‘Fine,' I said. ‘Here, you start while I make the coffee.'

He took the file, sat down on the sofa and opened it.

I came back to the living room with two cups of coffee to find Elvis leaning over the coffee table, the contests of the file spread out before him.

‘Thanks,' he said, accepting the coffee. He had set aside the hat and dark glasses.

I sat down next to him, a cushion between us, and looked at the contents of the file. There were even some photos.

‘Whataya got?' I asked.

‘You're gonna read it,' he said.

‘I know, but give me your thoughts.'

‘Well,' Elvis said, ‘your friend Danny has photos of three men he thinks might be this fella Albert Kroner.'

‘He can't tell?'

‘According to his notes,' Elvis said, ‘he thinks Kroner may have had some plastic surgery. These three men physically match his description.'

‘Are they all here, in Las Vegas?'

Elvis leaned over to look at something.

‘One here, one in Lake Tahoe, and one someplace called Laughlin?'

‘South of here,' I said. ‘Small gambling town on the river.'

‘Looks like he had an original list of eight possibles,' Elvis said, ‘and he's whittled it down to these three.'

He sat back, sipped his coffee.

‘I need a shower,' he said. ‘Those press things always make me sweat.'

‘Help yourself,' I said. ‘I don't think I have any pants that'll fit you, but I bet you can find a shirt.'

‘Thanks. I'll take this with me.'

‘I'll give the file a read myself while you're doing that.'

‘Be right back.'

I pointed and said, ‘Right through there.'

He went into my bedroom and I started reading. I got pretty much the same thing out of it that Elvis had. Danny had three suspects he thought could be Albert Kroner. He had been planning to do a thorough investigation into each. What I didn't know was whether or not he was going to go to Laughlin and Tahoe himself, or farm those jobs out.

I sat back, lifted the cup to my lips and realized it was empty. I went back to the kitchen for more.

The phone rang before I got out of the kitchen. I picked up the wall unit and said, ‘This is Eddie.'

‘Eddie, it's Frank.'

‘Hey, Frank. What's up?'

‘Dino and I have some info for you,' he said. ‘You better come on over and get it, though.'

‘The Sands?'

‘Right.'

‘OK,' I said, ‘we'll be there soon.'

‘We? Jerry with you?'

‘No,' I said. ‘Elvis.'

‘Hey, crazy,' Frank said. ‘Yeah, bring 'im over. I'll order up.'

‘OK,' I said, ‘give us half an hour.'

‘Bye, Clyde.'

As I hung up, Elvis came walking in.

‘This one OK?' he asked, modeling the T-shirt he'd grabbed. It was green and said UNLV on it. Someone had given it to me in '62, when the University of Las Vegas was first formed.

‘That's fine,' I said. ‘More coffee?'

‘We got time? You were tellin' somebody we'd be there in half an hour.'

‘Yeah, we got time,' I said. ‘I'm gonna wash up and then we've got to go to the Sands. Frank and Dino have something for us.'

‘Hey, I'd like to see those guys,' Elvis said.

‘And they'd like to see you,' I said. ‘Gimme a minute and then we'll go. Have some more coffee.'

He was pouring himself a cup as I left, carrying mine into the bedroom. I washed up in the sink and changed out of the suit I was wearing into a T-shirt and jeans.

‘Ready to go?' I asked.

Elvis had collected the file off the table and put it back together.

‘I'm ready.'

F
rank opened the door and he and Elvis grinned and gave each other a hug.

‘How you doin', kid?'

‘Just fine, sir.'

‘Drop that sir stuff,' Frank said. ‘It's Frank, remember?'

‘Sure, Frank.'

‘Hey, Eddie,' Frank said.

‘Frank.'

He closed the door and waved. ‘We ordered up some food. Dino's tendin' bar.'

We walked into the suite and Dino waved from behind the bar.

‘What'll ya have, boys?' he asked. ‘Let's have a drink before we eat.'

There was a cart on wheels in a corner with some covered dishes.

Elvis approached the bar and stuck his hand out.

‘Nice to meet you, sir.'

‘Dean,' Dino said, ‘just call me Dean. Nice to meet you too, kid. Hey, Eddie. Drinkin'?'

‘Bourbon,' I said.

‘Elvis?'

‘Pepsi, if you've got it.'

‘We got it.'

Frank, Elvis and I sat at the bar while Dino laid out some drinks, his ever present cigarette in his right hand. He may not have drunk to his reputation, but he smoked like a chimney.

Frank, Dino and Elvis talked music for a few minutes before we got down to business. I told Frank and Dino what we'd found out, what Jerry had told us, and about Elvis putting up Danny's bail.

‘That was damn nice of you, Elvis,' Frank said.

‘We can pitch it so you don't have to foot the whole bill,' Dino said. ‘In fact, Eddie, you should've asked us.'

‘For what? Two hundred thousand dollars? I'd never do that, Dean.' I would have accepted it, but I never would have asked for it.

‘The Sands might have put it up,' Frank said.

‘I wouldn't ask Jack for that, either,' I said. ‘This worked out fine. As long as Danny doesn't skip town, Elvis will get his money back. So, what was it you guys wanted to tell me?'

Frank and Dean exchanged a glance.

‘What is it?' I asked.

‘You guys want me to leave?' Elvis asked.

‘No, no,' Frank said, ‘you can hear this, too.'

‘Eddie,' Dino said, ‘we made a few calls, and found out that your man Reynolds was hanging around in LA with Joey Scaffazza.'

‘Why don't I like the sound of this?' I asked.

‘Scaffazza,' Frank said, ‘worked for Johnny Roselli.'

‘Oh, great,' I said. Roselli was the boss of the LA Mafia. But he was also a friend of Frank's. Frank had sponsored Roselli to become a member of the Friar's Club.

‘Frank—'

‘I know what you're gonna say,' Frank said. ‘I'm flyin' to LA tomorrow to see Johnny and see what I can find out.'

‘Thanks.'

‘I've got to warn you, though,' Frank said. ‘These guys are your friends as long as it doesn't hurt them. We can't depend on Johnny talkin' to me just because we're friends.'

‘I get it.'

‘This sounds like dangerous stuff,' Elvis said.

‘Murder's always dangerous, kid,' Frank said.

‘Yes, sir.'

I marveled at the way Elvis always maintained respect for whoever he was speaking with. But I had spent hours with him now and I had seen the intelligence behind his eyes. He rarely spoke impulsively, thought about his answers to questions, whether he was on stage, or speaking in private.

‘You going to LA, Dino?' I asked.

Dean shook his head.

‘Frank's going to talk to Johnny alone. Why, you need something else?'

‘Well,' I said, ‘I do need somebody to go to Lake Tahoe …'

T
he next morning Elvis and I were on the road, driving to Laughlin. Frank had taken his jet to LA, while Dino had taken the Sands helicopter to Lake Tahoe. Jerry was going to check on Danny's suspect in Vegas.

One of my ‘team' had to find out which man was Albert Kroner. But Frank's task was a little different. He was going to try to find out what – if anything – Johnny Roselli had to say about William Reynolds. Of all our tasks, I was most interested in his …