You Make Me Feel So Dead (7 page)

‘Speaking of friends I heard Dino's comin' to town,' I said.

‘Don't change the subject.'

Caught.

‘My buddy Danny Bardini's havin' some trouble and I promised to help him out.'

‘So you'll have to split your time between Elvis and Danny?'

‘Looks like.'

‘Get some help,' he suggested. ‘I'll fly Jerry in for you, if you want.'

‘Actually, Jerry's here and he's already on the job.'

‘Well, that's good.'

‘It should be, but I've already lost track of him.'

‘He'll turn up,' Frank said. ‘Jerry can take care of himself.'

‘I know that,' I said, ‘it's just that he hasn't even had time to settle in, yet.'

‘Well,' Frank said, ‘you've got the rest of the day to find him and make your arrangements for tomorrow.'

‘Then I better get to it.'

I sipped the drink again and put the glass down. Frank walked me to the door with his arm around my shoulder.

‘Let me know if you need any help,' he said, as we opened the door, ‘with either problem. I'm available.'

‘I'll remember that, Frank.'

‘And yes, Dino is comin' in. In fact, he'll be here tomorrow night.'

‘Good,' I said, ‘I haven't seen him in a while.'

‘Let's try to all have dinner,' Frank said, ‘if you can squeeze us in.'

‘I'll try,' I promised.

‘See ya, Eddie.'

He closed the door and I went to the elevator. I had the rest of the day to find Jerry, and had no idea where to look.

I
went down to the lobby and checked with the front desk for messages. Finding none, I asked the desk clerk – who had the name ‘DEREK' on his name tag – ‘Can I use your phone?'

‘Sure, Mr G.'

He turned the phone around to me so I could make an outside call. I knew if Elvis was checking into the Riviera the next day they'd know exactly when he was coming in. I knew the concierge at the Riviera because he had once worked at the Sands.

‘Hey, Eddie G.,' Tommy Harper said, glad to hear my voice. ‘What's shakin'?'

‘Hey, Tommy, how you doin'?'

‘Can't complain,' Harper said. ‘What can I do for you?'

‘I need a favor, man.'

‘Sure, anything,' Tommy said. ‘But I can't believe that Eddie G., who's got this whole town wired, needs my help.'

‘This has to do with a famous guest of yours,' I told him.

‘Uh-oh,' he said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone, ‘don't tell me it's about Elvis Presley.'

‘It is.'

‘Eddie, man,' he said, ‘I can't give out any information about that.'

‘I'm supposed to meet with him at your hotel,' I said. ‘I only need to know when he's comin' in. He tried to call me at home and I wasn't there.'

‘Elvis calls you at home?'

‘This would've been the first time, but yeah.'

He hesitated, then asked, ‘Is this on the level, Eddie? Because it could cost me my job.'

‘It won't,' I said. ‘It's totally on the level. All I need is his time of arrival, so I know when to be there myself.'

He hesitated again, then said – lowering his voice – ‘OK, it's noon. He's due to check in at noon.'

‘Thanks, Tommy.'

‘Don't hang me out to dry, Eddie,' he said. ‘If I see photographers here—'

‘You won't,' I said. ‘Not because of me, anyway.'

‘Yeah, I know,' Harper said, ‘it'll leak out, anyway, but …'

‘I won't say a word, Tommy,' I promised. ‘I swear.'

‘OK, Eddie.'

‘Thanks for helpin' me out,' I said. ‘Now I owe you one.'

‘I'll call it in,' Harper said. ‘Take care.'

I hung up and said to Derek, ‘Thanks for the use of the phone.'

‘Any time, Mr G.,' he said. ‘Hey, how come they don't give you an office?'

‘Pit bosses don't get offices,' I said, ‘but thanks for the thought.'

I took a walk through the casino floor, exchanged some greetings with Red Skelton, who was not playing the Sands but had chosen to gamble there, and Alan King, who was watching.

I went to the Garden Room for coffee, then checked back with the desk for messages. I was hoping Jerry would simply call the hotel, and not Jack Entratter's number. Or maybe he'd call Frank, who would then call down to the desk looking for me.

I went back to the Garden Room and decided to have a piece of pie this time with my coffee. I was finishing the last bite when the waitress came over with a phone, plugged it in and set it down on the table.

‘A call for you, Eddie.'

‘Thanks, Kitty.'

She smiled and walked away. I watched her swaying butt as I picked up the receiver.

‘Yeah, this is Eddie.'

‘I told you,' Jack Entratter said, ‘didn't I tell you?'

‘Tell me what, Jack?'

‘Your buddy Jerry called here lookin' for you.'

‘You should've told him to call down to the front desk,' I said. ‘He would've found me.'

‘Well, he couldn't do that,' Jack said. ‘You see, he's only allowed one phone call.'

‘One call?'

‘That's right,' Jack said. ‘He's in jail.'

I closed my eyes and thought, Jesus.

‘For what?' I asked.

‘No half measures for your good buddy,' Jack said. ‘He's been arrested and charged with murder!'

D
etective Hargrove had a self-satisfied look on his face as he came to fetch me from the front hall of police headquarters.

‘So, one of you finally did it, huh, Eddie?' he asked.

‘I'll need to see the evidence, detective, before I agree to that.'

The look slipped and I knew he didn't have the evidence he needed to make the charge stick.

‘Come with me,' he said.

I followed him down several familiar halls. We were headed for the interrogation rooms. I'd been in them enough times before to know.

He stopped in front of a door and turned to face me.

‘OK, your buddy's inside,' he said. ‘It would benefit him if you could get him to talk.'

‘Benefit you, you mean.'

‘You want to talk to him, or not?'

‘I do.'

‘Then be smart, Eddie,' Hargrove said. ‘I knew one of you would slip up one day. I sort of hoped it would be you, though.'

He opened the door and allowed me to enter the room.

‘Hey, Mr G.,' Jerry said. He was sitting at an interview table, and I noticed he was not handcuffed.

‘Hey, Jerry,' I said. ‘What's goin' on?'

He shrugged and said, ‘The usual.'

I sat opposite him.

‘Can we talk here?' I asked.

‘Nope.'

‘Have they charged you?'

‘Nope.'

‘Is there anything you can tell me here and now?'

‘Yeah,' he said, ‘I didn't kill anybody.'

‘Who got killed?'

‘Some guy.'

‘You don't know him?'

‘Never met him,' Jerry said, ‘never saw him before. They can't pin this on me. No motive.'

‘So what do we do now, big guy?'

‘We wait,' Jerry said. ‘They gotta let me outta here sometime.'

‘Entratter is sending a lawyer,' I said, ‘so it may be sooner than you think.' I reached across the table and patted his arm. ‘Sit tight.'

‘I'm an expert, Mr G.'

I nodded, stood up and left the room. Hargrove was waiting outside.

‘Well?'

‘I got nothin',' I said, figuring he had heard the whole conversation, anyway. ‘Except that he says he didn't kill anyone.'

‘Yeah,' he said.

‘Jack Entratter is sending a lawyer,' I told him. ‘I'll wait around for him.'

‘Then you better come to the squad room.'

He led the way to a room full of desks and, consequently, filled with cops.

‘That's my partner,' he said, pointing to a smallish man sitting behind one of the desks. He had wispy blond hair that was thinning, making him look older than his mid-thirties, which was probably what he was. ‘Detective Martin.' He looked at me. ‘No relation to Dino. Henry, this is Eddie Gianelli.'

Martin nodded to me. ‘I've heard about you.'

‘Nothin' good, I'm sure,' I said. ‘What'd you do to get stuck with Hargrove?'

‘Just got lucky.'

‘Another new partner, Hargrove?' I asked, as he sat behind his own desk. ‘You go through partners like I go through …'

‘… laws?'

‘I don't break the law,'

‘Naw,' Hargrove said, ‘you just bend ‘em right up to the breaking point.'

I declined to comment on that.

‘Henry, Mr Gianelli says his boss, Jack Entratter, is sending a lawyer to get Jerry Epstein out.'

Henry Martin was sitting back in his chair with his head supported by his right hand against his cheek.

‘We don't have anything on him, Hargrove,' he said. ‘We could let him go before the lawyer gets here.'

‘Not a chance,' Hargrove said. ‘Let ‘im sweat.'

‘You've dealt with Jerry before, Hargrove,' I said. ‘You really think he's sweating?'

‘I don't care,' Hargrove said. ‘He's been in Vegas what, half a day? And already I've got a body, with him on the scene.'

‘Who got killed?' I asked.

Hargrove didn't answer, so I looked at Martin. He took a notebook from his pocket.

‘William Reynolds,' he said, ‘male, white, thirty, five-foot ten, one sixty, all according to his driver's license. Also according to his license, resides in Los Angeles.'

‘So what was he doing here?' I asked.

‘We don't know,' Martin said, closing the book. ‘Gambling?'

‘How did he die?'

‘Shot,' Hargrove said.

‘With what?'

‘A gun,' he said.

‘I assumed that much,' I said. ‘What caliber?'

‘Thirty-eight,' he said, ‘and before you say anything else, I know where you're going. Your buddy doesn't have a gun on him, and when he does it's a forty-five.'

‘You're a mind-reader,' I said. ‘You'd think that would make you a good detective, but …'

That made Martin grin, but he hid it behind his hand. I figured Hargrove had another partner who didn't like him much.

‘Then why are you holding him?' I asked.

‘Like I said,' Hargrove said. ‘He was there.'

‘Did you find him with the body?'

‘No,' Martin said. ‘He was outside the building.'

‘Why was he even grabbed?'

‘This was an odd one,' Martin said. ‘The uniforms said when they rolled up on the scene he stepped up and put his hands behind his head.'

‘He gave up?'

‘Yup.'

‘Did he say anything?'

‘No.'

‘Where's the victim now?'

‘The morgue.'

‘Can I have a look?'

Martin looked at Hargrove.

‘Yeah, sure,' he said. ‘I'll call ahead and leave your name.'

‘If you recognize him you'll let us know, right?' Martin asked.

‘Of course.'

‘Yeah,' Hargrove said, ‘sure.' His phone rang at that moment. He picked it up, said, ‘Hargrove,' listened, then said, ‘Yes, all right, send him back.' He hung up and looked at Martin. ‘Epstein's lawyer is here.'

Martin nodded and stood up. ‘I'll get him ready.' He looked at me. ‘Nice to meet you.'

‘Sure,' I said, ‘same here.'

T
he lawyer sent by Jack Entratter – Horace Daniels – walked Jerry and I out of the police station. The man was not only dwarfed by Jerry, but by me, as well. We were both able to look down at the bald spot on top of his head, barely covered by a comb-over.

‘Mr Entratter wanted me to ask you boys not to kill anybody else this week,' Daniels said.

‘Mr G. ain't killed nobody this week or any other week,' Jerry said.

‘It's OK, Jerry,' I said, ‘Jack's just being funny. Horace, just tell Jack everything's under control.'

Horace adjusted his wire-framed glasses on his little button nose and said, ‘I hope so.'

He walked down the street to a waiting limo.

‘I'm sorry, Mr G.—' Jerry started.

‘I don't know what you think you have to be sorry for, big guy,' I said, ‘but let's get in the Caddy and you can tell me about it.'

As we drove I asked, ‘What's Reynolds got to do with Penny, Jerry?'

‘I don't know, Mr G.,' he said. ‘All I know is I followed her there. She went inside. Before I could do anything she come running out, right into me. I ain't sure she recognized me, but she kept sayin' she didn't do it.'

‘Then what?'

‘I heard the sirens,' he said. ‘Somebody musta called it in. The police cars pulled into the block, so I told her to go. When the patrol cars pulled up I did what I could to buy her some time.'

‘You surrendered?'

‘I put my hands on my head and waited,' Jerry said. ‘I didn't say a word.'

‘That's what probably saved you,' I said. ‘All they had you for was being outside.'

‘And Penny got away.'

‘OK,' I said. ‘Let's go and find Penny and discover who the fuck William Reynolds was.'

‘Billy Reynolds is – was – an old boyfriend who showed up unexpectedly,' Penny said.

Penny had gone right home when Jerry gave her the time to escape, and stayed there. When she opened the door and saw us standing there she fell into my arms, saying, ‘Oh, Eddie, I'm so sorry.'

After we went inside she apologized profusely to Jerry, and thanked him at the same time.

‘OK Penny,' I said, ‘why don't you tell us who this dead guy was?'