I'm a Fool to Kill You

by Robert Randisi

  We were at the Bootlegger Bistro on the South Strip, a traditional Italian restaurant that both Dean and Frank often patronized. The owner and the waitresses all made a fuss over Dean until he asked them to go away so he and I could talk.

  See? That’s what I mean. What a kick!

  We talked about families – his, not mine – films he was going to make, and attempts to lure him to weekly television.

  At one point he said, ‘We’ve talked about me enough, Eddie. What’s goin’ on with you?’

  I told him I was still happy in the pit at the Sands, still had my little house away from the strip, and was still single with nobody regular in my life.

  That was a mistake. He then went on about how important it was for me to find a woman, settle down and have a family. I told him none of that was really in my plans.

  ‘What happened to that pretty waitress you were seein’?’ he asked. ‘What was her name?’

  ‘That didn’t last, Dean, and she moved on. She doesn’t live in Vegas anymore.’ I was hoping he’d let it drop.

  He did. Instead, we talked a bit about Marilyn Monroe, and how her recent death had affected us both. He said the movie he was supposed to be doing with her got scrubbed. He wouldn’t hear of them replacing her.

  I had met Marilyn through Dean, helped her survive a crisis, and was one of the last people she called before her death, a supposed – and apparent – accidental overdose just the previous month.

  Dean told me he was looking at some scripts, wanted to do another western, but was also looking at a series of spy novels written by someone named Donald Hamilton. The character’s name was Matt Helm, and he was some kind of super spy. Or, at least, that was the way Dean was thinking of playing him.

  We finished dinner and had some coffee and cannoli for dessert.

  ‘Have you seen Frank yet?’ he asked me.

  ‘No, not yet. Why, is there something wrong? Does he have a problem?’

  ‘No, no, nothing like that,’ Dean said. ‘At least not that I know of. It’s just . . .’

  ‘Just what?’

  ‘He’s kind of different when he’s around Nancy and his kids.’

  ‘Different how?’

  ‘Oh, sort of on his best behavior, you know? He doesn’t want to give Nancy any reason to not let him see the kids.’

  ‘Are they all here with him?’

  ‘Yep, Nancy, Frank Jr. and Tina.’

  ‘Aren’t they over eighteen?’ I asked.

  ‘Not Tina,’ Dean said. ‘She’s fourteen. Frank Jr. is eighteen, Nancy’s twenty-two and a beauty. Their mother could still keep him from seeing Tina if she wanted to.’

  ‘So Frank’s gonna behave, huh?’ I said, smiling. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen that side of him.’

  ‘Well, he’ll be the same on stage and in the steam room,’ Dean pointed out. ‘It’s just when he’s around his family, you know?’

  We went back to talking about Dean’s kids after that, which was OK with me. He was proud of them. He was thinking that Dino Jr. was going to follow in his footsteps, but he was equally talented as a musician and a tennis player. He thought the kid would probably make a good pro tennis player.

  Deanna, his daughter, was also talented, had a fine singing voice.

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘if you end up going on television with a weekly show, you could always have them on.’

  ‘You know, you’re right,’ he said. ‘I could do that. I could also have Nancy and Frank Jr. on. They both sing very well.’

  ‘Not Tina?’

  ‘Tina’s the brainy one,’ he said. ‘I bet if the other two have a career in show business it’ll be with her behind the scenes. In fact, I’ll bet she’d be a great producer.’

  It was nice to hear how proud Dean was not only of his own kids, but of Frank’s as well. To my way of thinking, this was the sign of a real friend.

  THREE

  As we continued our dinner we talked about other members of the extended family. Sammy was doing well and was happy with May. Peter was still on the outs with Frank over the JFK thing. I asked Dean if he had tried to intercede on his behalf but he said he stayed out of other people’s politics, and that’s what ‘this’ was all about.

  ‘Is Frank still mad at Bing Crosby because JFK stayed there instead?’

  ‘That’s the odd part,’ Dean said. ‘No, he isn’t. In fact, we’re gonna do another film, this one called Robin and The Seven Hoods, and Frank wants to give Bing the part that was originally gonna be played by Peter.’

  ‘That is odd,’ I said. ‘Why not be mad at Bing?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Dean said. ‘He’s not mad at him, or JFK. Only Peter.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound right.’

  ‘Well, maybe you can talk to Frank about it. He values your opinions.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ I said, ‘I’m with you when it comes to people’s politics. Besides, I’ve never been that crazy about Peter.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Maybe it’s that snooty British attitude of his.’

  Before we left the restaurant we managed to somehow get on the subject of Dean’s old partner, Jerry Lewis.

  ‘Seems Frank thinks I should appear on Jerry’s Labor Day telethon.’

  ‘I guess Frank doesn’t feel the same way about stayin’ out of other people’s business.’

  ‘Well, it’s not a political thing, between Jerry and me, and Frank likes to see himself as a Mr Fix-It.’

  ‘With other people’s relationships?’

  Dean nodded.

  ‘Are you gonna do it?’ I asked.

  ‘Nah,’ he said. ‘Maybe some day, but not this year.’

  I had met Jerry only once, when he played the Sands, but had not spent any time talking to him. I knew Jack Entratter considered him a friend, but Jack had lots of friends I didn’t talk to.

  Dean paid the bill and we got back in the limo and returned to the Sands.

  ‘Nightcap?’ I asked him, in the lobby.

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’ People were pointing at him and staring. Any minute one of them was going to come over and ask for an autograph.

  ‘I’m gonna go upstairs and call Jeannie and the kids. I miss ’em when I’m away.’ He slapped me on the back and said, ‘Give the family thing some thought, Eddie. I’m tellin’ ya, it’s great.’

  ‘See you tomorrow, Dean,’ I said. ‘Maybe I’ll come and see the show.’

  ‘You do that. I think we’re gonna drag Buddy Lester up there since Joey’s not in town.’

  ‘I’d like to see that.’

  ‘OK, see ya then, Pally.’

  ‘Say hello to Jeannie for me. She was a real help when I was in L.A. a few months back.’

  ‘I’ll tell her.’

  He headed for the elevator and I headed for the casino floor. Technically, I wasn’t on the clock, but I usually liked to walk through if I was around, see how things were going.

  As I walked past my pit one of the dealer’s called out, ‘Mr Entratter was lookin’ for you, Eddie.’

  ‘He say what he wanted?’

  ‘Not to me,’ the dealer said.

  ‘How long ago?’

  ‘’Bout an hour.’

  ‘OK, thanks.’

  ‘What do I tell him if he comes back?’

  ‘Tell him you heard I went out to dinner with Dean Martin.’

  FOUR

  The next morning I drove up to the Sands, stopped to take in the marquee. The day before it had said FRANK SINATRA, DEAN MARTIN, SAMMY DAVIS JR. On this morning it said NAT KING COLE, and below that TONY LABELLA in the lounge. Later that morning I watched from my pit as Jack Entratter walked across the casino floor towards me. He had a determined look on his face, one that said he either had indigestion, or a problem. Or maybe one was causing the other. As usual, his shoulders were straining the seams of an expensive suit.

  I stepped out to meet him, and to keep our conversation away from the tables.
>
  ‘What’s up, Boss?’ I asked.

  ‘Have you seen Ava Gardner?’

  ‘In which movie?’

  ‘Don’t be a wise guy, Eddie,’ he said. ‘Have you seen her in the casino?’

  ‘Ava Gardner? Here?’ My heart started beating faster just at the thought. ‘If she was here I missed her, Jack. What the hell—’

  ‘Somebody said they saw her in the lobby of the hotel – twice,’ he said. ‘Once coming in, and then going out. Very upset, apparently.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘This morning. Seems she came in and left within half-an-hour – if it was her.’

  ‘Who saw her?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Word’s gettin’ around. You know how that works. Nobody ever remembers where something like that got started. That don’t stop them from spreadin’ it around, though.’

  ‘How are you gonna find out if she was actually here, Jack?’

  He smiled at me and poked me in the chest with a thick forefinger. ‘I’m not, Eddie. You are. I’ll be in my office. Let me know what you find out.’ He started away, then stopped and turned. ‘Oh, and stop the word from going around. I don’t want to hear it again.’

  ‘Why me?’ I asked.

  ‘Because you’re the guy, Eddie,’ he said. Only he said, ‘The Guy,’ with capital letters. ‘You’re my go-to-guy, right?’

  ‘But why, Jack.’

  ‘Why what?’

  ‘Why do you want to know if it was Ava?’ I asked. ‘I mean, we get lots of celebrities here. It’s Vegas.’

  ‘Because I’m the boss,’ he said, ‘and I’m tellin’ you to find out for me. Do you need more than that, Eddie?’

  ‘Ya know what, Jack?’ I said. ‘I kinda do. I mean, after all this time workin’ for you, doin’ what you say without question—’

  ‘Ha!’

  ‘—I need an explanation for this one.’

  He hesitated, then said, ‘OK, Eddie. This is not just a celebrity, this is Ava. Frank’s Ava. If she came here it was to see him, but then she ran out. I wanna know why before it gets back to Frank. That enough?’

  He was looking out for Frank, like always.

  ‘Yeah, OK,’ I said. ‘That’s enough.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, and started to walk away.

  ‘Wait, Jack!’

  He’d taken two steps, stopped and turned, frowning.

  ‘What about Frank?’ I asked.

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Well . . . can I just ask him if he’s seen her?’

  Entratter rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

  ‘I don’t see why not, but he’s got his ex-wife here, and his kids,’ he said. ‘Tread lightly.’

  ‘I always do, Jack,’ I said, ‘when it comes to the guys.’

  ‘Check with Dean first,’ he suggested. ‘Maybe you won’t have to bother Frank. Those guys usually know everything about each other.’

  ‘I’ll do that,’ I said. ‘I had dinner with him last night, but do you know where he is now?’

  ‘I can’t do your job for you, Eddie,’ he said. ‘You know Dino. Check the golf course. I heard Jack Benny’s in town. They’re probably playing.’

  Entratter started to walk away, then stopped and turned, raising his arm like he forgot something.

  ‘What’s with Rachel?’ he asked. ‘She’s in my office, sayin’ you sent her home yesterday.’

  ‘She’s got two left hands, Jack,’ I said, scowling at him. ‘And she doesn’t have the head for a dealer. And why the hell didn’t you tell me she was some mob guy’s goumada?’

  ‘You didn’t ask,’ he said. ‘Besides, I’m the boss. That means I don’t have to explain everything to you. Right?’

  ‘But Jack . . . does she have to be a dealer?’

  ‘No, she don’t,’ Jack said. ‘Why don’t you just find something else for her to do?’

  ‘Why do I have to—’ I started to ask, again.

  ‘Because I foisted her off on you,’ he answered, cutting me off. ‘You don’t want her? Foist her off on someone else. But don’t let it interfere with finding out about Ava.’

  ‘You got it, Boss.’

  Since I was going to have to leave the casino floor – and probably the building – I needed somebody to cover my pit for me. One of my floormen was just weeks away from becoming a pit boss himself, so I asked him to take my place for the day.

  ‘Just today, Eddie?’ he asked.

  I grinned and said, ‘I’m hoping it won’t be much longer than that, Phil, but if it is you’ll be the first to know.’

  ‘Anythin’ you wanna tell me before you leave?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ I told him, ‘just don’t piss off any of my regulars.’

  Then I went in search of Ava Gardner.

  FIVE

  The last film I’d seen Ava in was On The Beach, with Gregory Peck. That had been in fifty-nine, three years ago. She’d done an Italian film with Dirk Bogarde in sixty, The Angel Wore Red, but I hadn’t seen it yet. Since then she’d been off the screen, living in Madrid and supposedly trotting around the globe. Only a few months back I’d heard that she’d started production on a new film called Fifty-Five Days at Peking, with Charlton Heston and David Niven. I didn’t know if that movie had wrapped or not, but if not what would she be doing in Las Vegas?

  The answer was obvious. She would have been looking for Frank. They had been divorced since fifty-seven, but being friends with Frank I knew that he stilled loved her, and she still loved him. They tried to stay friends, but they mixed like dynamite and fire. Frank had once said to me, very sadly, ‘I love her, and God damn me for it.’

  I went to the hotel lobby to talk to the staff, hoping to find out who had actually seen Ava in the building. But there had been a shift change. If a bellman or desk clerk had seen her, they had gone home. I decided to go outside and talk to the valets. That’s where I lucked out.

  ‘Yeah, I saw ‘er,’ a valet named Kenny said. He had enough acne to make him look like Howdy Doody. ‘Got out of a cab, went inside, came running out again a little while later.’

  ‘Where’d she go?’

  ‘Got into another cab.’

  ‘Did you hear where she told the cabbie to take her?’ I asked.

  ‘I didn’t hear, but I figured it must be the airport,’ Kenny said.

  ‘Which cab was it?’

  ‘It was an Ace cab.’

  ‘You know which one?’

  ‘I don’t know the number,’ he said, ‘but the cabbie’s name is Leo.’

  ‘Is he in line now?’ I asked.

  Kenny looked over at the line of cabs waiting for fares and said, ‘No, he’s not back yet.’

  I thought about going to the airport to find him, but he might have been on his way back.

  ‘Kenny, if he comes back in the next ten or fifteen minutes I’ll be in the lobby,’ I told the valet. ‘Tell him there’s a ten in it for him if he comes in and talks to me.’

  ‘What’s it about, Eddie?’ he asked.

  ‘Just do it, Kenny. OK? As a favor?’

  ‘Sure thing, Eddie.’ I gave him a five spot and went back into the hotel.

  SIX

  I used one of the phones behind the front desk to call Ted Silver, who worked in Security at McCarran Airport. I had to wait a while for him to come on the line. In those days the airport – named for Senator Pat McCarran – was pretty small, so he came on the line quick.

  ‘Eddie G., my man,’ Ted said. ‘What can I do for you, brother?’

  ‘Ava Gardner.’

  ‘Sign me up.’

  ‘I need to know if she flew in or out of Vegas in the past couple of hours.’

  ‘You’re kiddin’, right?’

  ‘Not kidding, Ted,’ I said. ‘In fact, she may be in the airport right now. Or stepping out of a cab.’

  ‘Jesus,’ he said, ‘what the hell am I doin’ on the phone with you?’

  ‘Find out for me, Ted.’

  ‘And whataya
want me to do with her if she’s here?’ he asked. ‘You want me to hold ‘er here? She run out on a marker?’

  Good question. What did I want? Entratter didn’t say anything about bringing her back to the Sands.

  ‘No, no,’ I said, ‘don’t detain her. I just need to know if she was here. And where she goes.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘That’s it.’

  ‘What’s it about, Eddie?’ he asked. ‘Did she run out on a debt?’

  ‘Just do it for me, Ted. OK?’

  ‘OK, Eddie,’ Ted said. ‘I’ll give ya a call back at the Sands, right?’

  ‘Right. Thanks, Ted.’

  ‘Tickets to a show, right?’

  ‘Whenever you want.’

  ‘I’ll be talkin’ to ya.’

  I hung up, nodded my thanks to the people behind the desk and got out of their way.

  I decided not to bother Dean Martin with this. Frank had told me on more than one occasion that we were friends, and that I could talk to him anytime. On the other side of the desk I found a house phone and asked for Frank Sinatra’s suite, made arrangements to see him.

  But in the end I decided to go ahead and check with Dean before seeing Frank. I knew how volatile Frank’s relationship with Ava had always been. Maybe I could avoid throwing wood on that fire.

  I found out Dean had arranged for a tee time at the Desert Inn Golf Course. The last time I bothered him there he’d been playing a round with Bob Hope. This time – according to Jack Entratter – I might’ve been interrupting a round with Jack Benny.

  I found Mack Gray, Dean’s Man Friday, in the clubhouse bar. After we shook hands he confirmed that Dean was on the course with Jack Benny.

  ‘You want I could drive ya out there?’ he asked.

  ‘You know what hole they’ll be on?’

  ‘We could probably figure it out,’ he said. ‘Come on.’

  We got a golf cart and after Mack wedged his bulk behind the wheel, we took off. Several times as he executed a bend I thought Mack’s weight was going to overturn us. But somehow he managed to keep the cart upright.