The Way You Die Tonight

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The Way You Die Tonight Page 15

by Robert Randisi


  Jerry and I headed for the door, but Danny piped up and we stopped.

  ‘Whoa!’

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  ‘I forgot to ask,’ he said. ‘What’s happening with Howard Hughes?’

  ‘Oh yeah, that,’ I said, turning, ‘I took a limo ride with him.’

  ‘He came out of the Desert Inn?’

  ‘All perfumed and pretty.’ I told Danny about my conversation with Hughes.

  ‘It doesn’t sound like he’s gonna take your refusal lying down.’

  ‘He’s gonna have to,’ I said. ‘I’m not working for him, period. No matter how much money he throws at me, my loyalty is to Vegas.’

  ‘Attaboy, Mr G.,’ Jerry said.

  ‘Stick to your guns, buddy,’ Danny said. ‘Just watch your back.’

  ‘That’s my job,’ Jerry said.

  Danny grinned at the big guy and said, ‘I feel better, already.’

  FIFTY-TWO

  We headed back to the Sands so I could check in with Entratter, Frank, and Edward G. Robinson. I also thought I’d have a word with Billy Pulaski about security. If it wasn’t Walter Spires who got into the Sands to kill Helen, and then got out without being challenged because he used to work there, then who was it? And how did they get in?

  ‘I’m gonna talk to Jack,’ I said, as we entered the lobby. ‘Why don’t you—’

  ‘Come with you. I’m stickin’ with you, Mr G.’

  ‘OK,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’

  As we entered Jack’s outer office Helen’s desk looked very empty. When we went into Entratter’s office, he was sitting behind his desk, staring off into space. It was a rare moment when he wasn’t busy.

  ‘Jack!’

  He started, then focused his eyes on us.

  ‘Oh, hey,’ he said. ‘Eddie. Jerry.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ I asked.

  ‘Nothin’,’ he said. ‘I was just thinkin’. What’s goin’ on with you?’

  ‘I want to update you on what we know about Helen’s death.’

  ‘Go.’

  Jerry and I both remained standing as I related our activities and discoveries to Jack. By the time I was done he was reeling.

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ he said. ‘I really didn’t know nothin’ about this woman, did I? Drugs?’

  ‘That’s what we heard,’ I said. ‘But we didn’t find anything in her apartment or her desk.’

  ‘Then how do you plan to confirm that rumor?’

  ‘We’re going to find the drug dealer she argued with at the club.’

  ‘And how are you gonna do that?’

  ‘You don’t wanna know, Jack.’

  He held his hand out and said, ‘You’re right, I don’t. What’s happenin’ with Eddie Robinson?’

  ‘I have an idea, but I wanted to check it with you first.’

  ‘What is it?’

  I told him, and he listened, nodded.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, ‘if Eddie will go for that, it’s fine with me. Set it up.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Now, what about Hughes?’

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘after I saw you last time, he took me for a ride.’

  ‘Whataya mean?’

  Again, Jerry stood by, silent and solid as a rock, while I told Jack about Hughes and the limo ride.

  ‘Did he threaten you?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ I said, ‘but he let me know he wasn’t happy.’

  ‘Watch your ass, Eddie,’ he said. ‘With everything you’re involved in, that might be where you get hurt the most.’

  ‘I haven’t heard that Hughes uses muscle, Jack.’

  ‘Howard Hughes will do anything to get what he wants,’ Entratter said. ‘Remember that. He didn’t get where he is by goin’ easy.’ Entratter addressed Jerry for the first time since we’d entered the room. He pointed at him and said, ‘You better have his back, Jerry.’

  ‘I always do,’ Jerry said.

  ‘Well, just keep an eye out in every direction,’ Entratter said. ‘There’s no tellin’ where hell is gonna come from this time.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Jack,’ I said. ‘We’re on it.’

  ‘OK, then,’ he said. ‘Just be careful. I don’t need any more surprises.’

  ‘Jack, I’m going to talk to Billy Pulaski about security.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘A killer shouldn’t have been able to walk in here, kill Helen, and just walk out.’

  ‘Security in the casino and hotel business usually don’t involve murder, Eddie.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Still, he might not like my questions. Billy’s got an ego.’

  ‘Yeah, who doesn’t,’ Entratter said. ‘Ask your questions. I’ll take care of Billy.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Eddie,’ he called as we reached the door.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘You’ve got a free pass around here,’ Jack said. ‘Whether it’s got to do with Helen’s murder, Eddie Robinson, or Howard Hughes. Whatever you want, you got it.’

  ‘Thanks, Jack.’

  ‘And when this is done,’ he went on, ‘we’re gonna talk about a new position for you.’

  ‘Whatever you say, Jack.’

  On the way to the elevator Jerry asked, ‘What new position, Mr G.?’

  ‘I guess when this is all over,’ I said, ‘we’ll find out.’

  ‘I hope it means a raise.’

  ‘You and me both.’

  FIFTY-THREE

  Billy was in the security office, dressing down one of his men for losing a cheater.

  ‘Once we identify a cheat,’ he was saying as we entered, ‘we don’t let him leave the premises without having a little talk. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Billy looked over at me. ‘Somethin’ I can do for you, Eddie?’

  ‘Yeah, we need to talk, Billy,’ I said. ‘You can finish rippin’ this guy a new one later.’

  ‘Listen—’ Billy started, but Jerry cut him off by stepping between him and the other guy, his broad back to Billy.

  ‘Out!’ Jerry said to the worker in trouble.

  ‘Yessir!’ The guy ran away, and I closed the door to the office.

  ‘What the fuck, Eddie,’ Billy said. ‘That guy had potential, and your big gorilla probably scared it out of him.’

  ‘I don’t care, Billy,’ I said. ‘I want to know how somebody waltzed onto the property, killed Helen – took the time to hang her up in the ladies’ room – and then walked out.’

  ‘You don’t have the authority to ask me that.’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ I said. ‘Go ahead. Check with Entratter.’

  He stared at me, put his hand on his phone, then relaxed it.

  ‘You know,’ he said, ‘I left the Chicago PD to get away from brown nosers.’

  ‘Fine,’ I said, ‘you think I’m a brown noser. Now answer my question.’

  He sat down behind his desk and leaned back. All in one moment his manner changed. His shoulders slumped, and he looked defeated.

  ‘You know,’ he said, ‘casino security was supposed to be a cushy job for me. Catch cheaters, teach ’em a lesson. Mr Entratter even told me I could do it the Chicago way. But this – murder? That wasn’t supposed to be on the cards – no pun intended.’

  I sat across from him. Jerry leaned against the door.

  ‘The robbery, yeah,’ he said, ‘I fucked up there, and you cleaned up the mess. But the murder – if it was a murder …’

  ‘It was.’

  ‘… that ain’t my fault. So why does it feel like it was?’

  ‘Look, Billy,’ I said, ‘the murder wasn’t your fault, all right? I’m just wondering how somebody walked in, did it and walked out – like he was invisible.’

  ‘Maybe he was known,’ Billy offered.

  ‘An employee?’ I said.

  ‘Or an ex-employee.’

  ‘We checked out Walter Spires,’ I said.

  ‘Spires?’ Billy said. ‘That name sounds familiar.’ />
  ‘Helen had Entratter fire him,’ I said. ‘He could have walked in here and if some of the employees didn’t know about the firing, they would have assumed he still worked here.’

  ‘That’s possible.’

  ‘But we checked him out,’ I went on. ‘He’s a nerd. A wimp. I don’t know if he had it in him to kill her, let alone string her up that way.’

  ‘Could be some other ex-employee, then.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, ‘why don’t you check that out for me? See who’s been fired in the past month or so, who might have had a grudge against Helen Simms.’

  ‘I can do that,’ Billy said. ‘OK, I’ll do that.’

  I stood up.

  ‘What was your position when you left the Chicago PD?’ I asked.

  ‘Detective.’

  ‘Homicide?’

  ‘Sorry,’ Billy said, ‘Bunco. That’s why Mr Entratter hired me.’

  ‘OK.’

  I started toward the door. Jerry opened it and waited. I turned back to Billy Pulaski when another question occurred to me.

  ‘Billy, how did Entratter find you?’

  ‘I was recommended to him for the job.’

  ‘By who?’

  ‘I think that’s somethin’ you’ll have to ask Entratter, Eddie.’

  I nodded and went out, Jerry right behind me.

  When we got back to the lobby Jerry asked, ‘Who do you think recommended him, Mr G.?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said, ‘but it would have to be somebody who’s word Jack put a lot of stock in.’

  ‘In Chicago?’ Jerry said. ‘Gee, I wonder who that could be?’

  We both had an idea but we kept it to ourselves.

  FIFTY-FOUR

  I called Eddie Robinson’s room and he said to come right up. When we got there the studio girl – I forgot her name – opened the door. Her eyes widened when she saw Jerry, but then she held her finger to her lips.

  ‘Wha—’ I started.

  ‘Shh,’ she hissed. ‘Mr Robinson is being interviewed. You can come in and listen, but you have to keep quiet.’

  ‘OK,’ I mouthed.

  The three of us walked into the suite. Robinson was sitting on the sofa. A man with a pad of paper in his lap was across from him, asking questions and jotting down Robinson’s answers.

  ‘Rico, Rico,’ I heard Robinson saying as we entered. ‘Everybody wants to know about Rico.’

  ‘What would you like to talk about, sir?’ the interviewer asked.

  ‘Lancey Howard.’

  ‘That’s the part you’re playing in The Cincinnati Kid, right?’ the man asked.

  ‘That’s right. He’s a very complex, interesting man.’

  We stood and listened while Robinson regaled the reporter with Lancey’s virtues and faults. The man wrote feverishly while the actor spoke, until the interview was over and the two men stood up and shook hands. The studio girl walked the reporter out of the room.

  ‘Was he from a magazine or a newspaper?’ Jerry asked.

  ‘I don’t even know,’ Robinson said. ‘The girl showed up with him this morning, without warning. She and I are going to have a talk. How are you boys?’

  ‘Good,’ I said, ‘we’re good. How was your dinner with Frank?’

  ‘Great,’ Robinson said. ‘Frank’s a wonderful guy, and I can see that the people in this town treat him like royalty.’

  ‘Pretty much,’ I said. ‘What are your plans for more research?’

  ‘I figured you’d get me in to watch another game,’ Robinson said.

  ‘We could do that,’ I said, ‘or …’

  ‘Or what?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  ‘Well, I could bring a dealer up here to work with you, teach you the game the way it should be played. Then maybe later we could actually get you into a game.’

  ‘High stakes?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t think you’d want to play too high, but yeah, if that’s what you want.’

  ‘Could the dealer be a female?’

  ‘Why Eddie, you dirty dog,’ I said.

  ‘No, no,’ he said, ‘there’s a female dealer in the film. The character’s name is Lady Fingers. Do you have anyone like that?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said, ‘but her name’s Madge.’

  He sighed and said, ‘I guess that’ll have to do.’

  ‘Madge?’ Jerry asked, as we left Robinson’s room.

  ‘What can I tell you?’

  ‘I like Lady Fingers better.’

  ‘It’s a movie, Jerry,’ I said. ‘Nobody has a name like that in real life.’

  ‘I know a guy in Brooklyn they call Twinkletoes,’ he argued.

  ‘That’s Brooklyn,’ I said, as if that said it all.

  We went downstairs and into the casino to see if Madge was working. She was, at her regular table. I talked to her point boss, and then pulled her out.

  Madge had been dealing at the Sands for a long time. She was about fifty, and while Jack Entratter liked hiring pretty young things as not only waitresses but dealers, Madge was just too good at her job to let go now that she was no longer sweet or young.

  She was, however, a handsome woman who still had to fend off passes during the course of the day.

  ‘What gives these guys the idea I’m just waitin’ for them to take me away from all this?’ she demanded.

  ‘I guess they just can’t believe their luck that you’re their dealer, Madge.’

  ‘Yeah, bite me,’ she said. She eyed Jerry but didn’t say anything to him. ‘So what’s on your mind, Eddie?’

  ‘I’ve got a special client who wants to learn how to play poker.’

  ‘Now I’m supposed to be a teacher?’

  ‘It’s a little more than that, Madge,’ I said. ‘This is somebody who’s researching a role for a movie. It’s a poker movie, and there’s a female dealer in it. They might be looking for someone to base her on.’

  She touched her dark hair, which was streaked with just enough gray to look fashionable.

  ‘We ain’t talkin’ about Paul Newman, are we? Maybe Rock Hudson?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Who then?’

  ‘He’s a special friend of Jack Entratter’s, and Frank Sinatra’s.’

  ‘OK, I’m curious,’ she said. ‘Who?’

  ‘Edward G. Robinson.’

  ‘No shit?’

  ‘No shit.’

  ‘Holy cow,’ she said. ‘He’s like … major.’

  ‘Yeah, he is. And it’s for a movie he’s doing with Steve McQueen.’

  ‘Jeez – do I get to meet him?’

  ‘Who knows?’ I said. ‘You up for this?’

  ‘You know it,’ she said. ‘When does he want to start?’

  ‘Right away,’ I said. ‘He’s in his suite now, waiting.’

  ‘Now?’ She touched her hair, again. ‘Jeez, Eddie, I gotta freshen up.’

  ‘Well, you go ahead,’ I said. ‘I’ll call and tell him you’re on your way.’

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Hey, thanks, Eddie. I’m so tired of playin’ grab-ass with these jamokes down here.’

  ‘I don’t think Edward G. Robinson is going to play grab-ass with you, Madge, but he may want to buy you dinner.’

  ‘That’s cool,’ she said.

  ‘OK,’ I said. I gave her his suite number and she ran off to the ladies’ room.

  ‘She’s all excited,’ Jerry said, as we walked to the lobby to a house phone.

  ‘Why shouldn’t she be?’ I asked. ‘She gets to spend time with a movie star in his suite rather than down here with grab-ass gamblers.’

  ‘Jeez, a woman her age and they’re still tryin’ to grab her ass?’

  ‘I think she has a nice one,’ I said.

  ‘Hey, sure, I’m just sayin’ …’

  I called Robinson and told him to expect Madge any minute. I also told him if he wanted to buy her dinner at the Sands I’d arrange for it to be on the house.

  ‘Eddie G.,’ he said. ‘I think I can afford to b
uy a young lady dinner.’

  I almost told him she wasn’t exactly a young lady, but maybe at his age she was.

  When I hung up I said to Jerry, ‘OK, he’s taken care of for a while.’

  ‘You ain’t gonna put him in a high-stakes game tonight?’ he asked.

  ‘Too soon,’ I said. ‘Let’s see what kind of student Madge says he is.’

  ‘So whatta we do now?’

  ‘Back to work on Helen’s murder. Let’s plan our snatch of the manager of the Happy Devil.’

  FIFTY-FIVE

  It wasn’t hard to find out that the listed manager of the Happy Devil was named Francis D’Auria. I was able to do that with a quick phone call.

  Out in the Caddy Jerry said, ‘You know what I’m thinkin’?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘we need to find out if this club is connected.’

  ‘That’s what I’m thinkin’.’

  ‘Let’s go to Fremont Street,’ I said. ‘I think I know who to ask.’

  ‘The dick?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell you when we get there.’

  Jerry shrugged and gunned the engine.

  We parked behind the Horseshoe and walked up to Fremont Street. Across from Danny’s office was an arcade. Jerry and I had used it a few months before to do some surveillance. Its clientele was less than desirable, as was its owner, but the place was connected.

  ‘Angie Vadala owns this place,’ I explained as we entered. ‘He knows who and what’s connected in Vegas, especially when it comes to sleaze.’

  A hooker was off in a corner making a deal with a john. She was young and overly made-up. Everything was for sale here except drugs. The ‘boys’ weren’t into the drug trade in Vegas, but I suspected Angie had his way of getting around that.

  Even though Dutch Schultz and Meyer Lansky were involved in drug trafficking early on, the Italians stayed out of it. The Mafia was, after all, about ‘family’, and the bosses hated to think of their own kids being able to buy drugs. But that had changed to some extent. Lucky Luciano was one of the first Mafia bosses to get involved with drugs, and after he was deported Genovese and Gambino took over. But Genovese was sent to prison in 1959 on drug charges. Some thought that Luciano had engineered this from exile in Italy. This left Gambino in power. Luciano died of a heart attack in 1962, when he was meeting with a movie producer in Naples International Airport to discuss a possible film biography. (A film did eventually get made about Luciano, but not until 1973.)

 

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