The Way You Die Tonight

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The Way You Die Tonight Page 18

by Robert Randisi


  ‘What’s that?’ Jerry asked.

  ‘Neither one of us likes Hargrove.’

  SIXTY-THREE

  I had time to try to collar Detective Henry Martin and get him to talk to me before we had to get ready to go to Dino’s show.

  I gave the detectives a couple of hours to get back to their desks, and then called from the Sands, using the phone in Jerry’s room.

  ‘Detective Martin,’ he said, answering his phone.

  ‘Martin, this is Eddie Gianelli. Can we talk?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Things that are mutually beneficial.’

  ‘And I assume you want this talk to be between you and me?’ he asked.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Without my partner, and without any of your buddies?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Why should I do this?’

  ‘Maybe because you’ve got a case you can’t solve or you need help,’ I said, ‘or maybe just because your partner’s a prick.’

  He hesitated, then said, ‘All good reasons. Where and when?’

  ‘Tomorrow afternoon,’ I said. ‘Some place neutral.’

  ‘You know where Grabstein’s is?’

  That surprised me. Grabstein’s was a Jewish Deli I had been introduced to by Danny’s lawyer, Kaminsky, just a few months ago.

  ‘I know it.’

  ‘Meet me there at one.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, ‘see you then.’

  ‘And Eddie?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Have something for me,’ he said. ‘Don’t make me waste my time.’

  ‘Eating at Grabstein’s?’ I asked. ‘When has that ever been a waste of time?’

  I hung up. Jerry had been standing at the bar, listening.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, ‘you were supposed to take me to Grabstein’s next time I was here. That’s now.’

  He was right. After I ate at Grabstein’s with Kaminsky, without Jerry, and told him about it, he’d pouted until I promised to take him.

  ‘Well, you can’t come tomorrow,’ I said. ‘I told him I’d come alone. But before you go home, definitely.’

  ‘Hmph,’ he said, unconvinced.

  I decided to change the subject.

  ‘You got a suit to wear to the show tonight?’

  ‘No.’

  I picked up the phone.

  ‘I’ll get you one, and me, too, so I don’t have to go home to change.’

  I called the concierge desk, talked to a man named Ted, told him what I needed. I gave him both our sizes and he said he’d have two suits up to us pronto. Pronto turned out to be an hour, which was OK.

  Jerry was just starting to talk about getting room service when the suits arrived.

  ‘We’re gonna eat dinner out,’ I said. ‘Let’s just get dressed and not ruin our appetites.’

  Jerry frowned. ‘I don’t understand? Ruin our appetites?’ Obviously, this was not a concept he’d ever had to deal with before.

  ‘Get dressed!’ I said.

  He humphed again, and took the suit into the bedroom.

  SIXTY-FOUR

  We met Frank, Sammy and Edward G. Robinson at the limo, in front of the Sands.

  ‘Hey, Eddie G.!’ Sammy said gleefully, shaking my hand. It was always one of the oddest sights to see Sammy shaking hands with Jerry. The difference in size was staggering.

  We all piled into the back which, even with Jerry in the group, was big and spacious enough to hold us. Frank had made sure of that.

  Sammy chattered the whole way, his body vibrating with energy. I think he was just happy to be around Frank, again. I knew Frank liked Sammy a lot, which was why I expected him to forgive him, eventually. Not so with Peter Lawford. That was a rift I didn’t think would ever mend.

  At the Sahara we filed out of the limo and into the Moroccan themed Congo Room. Because Frank was Frank we got a table up front, where Dean would be sure to see us. Buddy Hackett came over to say hello. He played the Sahara so often he had the honorary title of vice-president of entertainment. I was sure it was he who got Dean to play there.

  Seated around us at some of the other tables were the likes of Steve and Eydie, Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh, Red Skelton – I assumed he hadn’t lost his shirt at the Sands after I increased his limit – George Burns, and other stars who had come out to support Dino. He was very popular because he was not only a fabulous entertainer, but a great guy. And if you didn’t believe me, you could have asked Frank. He loved the guy.

  We had dinner – Sammy and Edward G. Robinson doing most of the talking – and were all well lubricated by the time the house lights went down and a spot hit the stage. He did one quick song – ‘Ain’t That a Kick in the Head’, a song he did in Ocean’s Eleven, which had been filmed right there in the Sahara – and then asked for the house lights to be brought up, ‘So I can see if any of my friends showed up.’

  He spotted us right away and pointed at Frank, the ever present cigarette between his fingers. ‘Everybody slugs somebody sometime,’ he sang. ‘Hey Frank, hit anybody on the way in?’

  ‘I’m gonna hit you in a minute, ya dago,’ Frank fired back good-naturedly.

  ‘And ladies and gentlemen, sitting with Frank is my other buddy, Sammy Davis Jr. Hey Sam, stand on somebody’s shoulders so the people can see you!’

  Sammy cracked up, and so did the crowd. The Rat Pack magic was alive, even though Dean was the only one on stage.

  ‘And look there, with Frank and Sammy, is that Edward G. Robinson? Ya know, Eddie did Robin and the Seven Hoods with us and he was a blast. Hey Eddie, where’s your Messiah now?’

  Eddie Robinson laughed and applauded.

  He pointed out a few other stars – specifically thanking Buddy for booking him in the room – and then went on with the show.

  He sang a bunch of his songs, did a few more jokes, then finished up with ‘Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime’, which had been a huge hit for him just that summer of 1964.

  ‘Damn, he puts on a great show!’ Frank said, enthusiastically.

  ‘He sure does,’ Robinson said. ‘How come you fellas didn’t jump up there and do some songs with him?’

  ‘Because this is Dino’s show,’ Sammy said.

  ‘That’s right,’ Frank said. ‘You know, people come to the Sands to see the Summit. This was all Dean. Come on, let’s order some more drinks. Dino’ll be out here soon.’

  Dean did come out after about twenty minutes, wearing a different tux, looking fresh and rested. He worked the room for a few minutes, pumping men’s hands and kissing women, before joining us at the table.

  He slapped me on the back and pumped my hand, said hello to Jerry, then pulled up a chair between Frank and Sammy.

  Jerry leaned over and asked, ‘How come he didn’t say hello to you from the stage, Mr G.?’

  ‘Me?’ I said. ‘Why should he say hello to me? I’m nobody.’

  ‘That ain’t true, Mr G.,’ Jerry said. ‘You’re the man in Vegas. Everybody knows that.’

  Robinson heard what Jerry was saying and leaned over.

  ‘He’s right, Eddie G.,’ he said, waving a hand that held a cigar. ‘All these entertainers should acknowledge you from the stage.’

  ‘That’s nice of you, Eddie,’ I said, ‘but I’m afraid that, in this room and rooms like it, I just don’t cut it.’

  A waitress came over and we ordered another round of drinks. Frank stuck with martinis – and ordered one for Robinson – I had bourbon, and Dino ordered a coke. Sammy went with bourbon, and Jerry had a beer.

  Everybody was happy and having a good time. Even Jerry was laughing at the interplay between the three friends, Frank, Dino and Sammy. But it was Dean who called an end to it, saying he had to go back to his room to call Jeannie and then turn in early. Dean was not the drunken swinger he was purported to be.

  So we paid the bill – somebody paid the bill, I think it was Frank – and made our way back out to the limo. Because he was playing th
e Sahara, Dean had a room there. When he said goodnight, he grabbed my arm and pulled me aside before I could get into the car.

  ‘Let’s have a quiet dinner while I’m here and catch up,’ he said.

  ‘Sure, Dean,’ I said. ‘Say when.’

  ‘Tomorrow night, before the show,’ he said. ‘Come to my room at five. We’ll do it early.’

  ‘You got it.’

  His handsome face broke into a huge smile and he gave me a hug before going back inside. I hoped I wouldn’t be up to my eyeballs in something tomorrow night, and that I’d be able to make it.

  I got into the limo and we headed back to the Sands.

  SIXTY-FIVE

  I stayed overnight in a room at the Sands, but I had to go home the next morning. I had no fresh clothes, and wanted to use my own shower. I rose early, didn’t bother waking Jerry, got dressed, and went downstairs. I checked at the front desk for messages. The only one they had was the one Frank said he’d left me. I left a message for Jerry, telling him I’d gone home and would be back in the afternoon.

  I went out, got into the Caddy and drove to my house.

  I came out of the shower, grabbed a towel and started to dry off. Then I pulled on a terry cloth robe and walked out of the bathroom into the bedroom. I was going through my closet when there was a knock at my door. Still in my robe, I went to see who it was.

  I was surprised to find Emily Marcus standing on my doorstep. I thought about pulling on some pants first, but finally just opened the door. She was dressed for work in a gray suit, and matching heels, make-up perfectly applied.

  ‘Well, hello,’ I said.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said. ‘I hope you don’t mind … I tracked you down.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Well, I could say that I checked your wallet while you were in the shower and got your address off your license,’ she said. ‘Or I could say that I work for a law firm and used my contacts there.’ She winced and asked, ‘Which do you prefer?’

  ‘I really don’t care,’ I said. ‘Both showed initiative. Come on in.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  I closed the door after she entered and said, ‘Ah, I just got out of the shower, so I should put something on.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘I’ve seen you naked, remember?’

  ‘Some of it,’ I said, ‘still not all of it. How much did I drink in that club?’

  ‘It might not have been what you drank,’ she said.

  ‘OK,’ I said, waving the information off, ‘don’t tell me if I took something. I don’t want to know. What brings you here? Why did you track me down?’

  ‘Can’t it be that I just wanted to see you again?’

  ‘It could be,’ I said, ‘but if you found out my address, I’m sure you also managed to discover my phone number.’

  ‘That’s true,’ she said. ‘OK, here it is. My memory of that night wasn’t really much clearer than yours. But I finally remembered something that was bothering me.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ I asked. ‘Wait, can I get you something? No, wait again. I have nothing.’

  ‘Why don’t you get dressed and buy me some coffee?’ she asked.

  ‘OK,’ I said. I went into the bedroom and, while I dressed, called out, ‘How did you get here? Do you have a car? I can drive you and then come back here if you do. Emily?’

  It only takes a minute to pull on jeans and a T-shirt, slide your feet into some loafers. ‘Emily?’ I called, coming back into the living room.

  Emily wasn’t there.

  But two guys were, and they had the look of a couple of knuckledusters.

  ‘The lady was nice enough to let us in,’ one of them said.

  ‘I guess I should be more careful about who I let in,’ I commented.

  ‘Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,’ the other one said.

  I looked them up and down, searching for weapons, bulges, in their jackets.

  ‘What can I do for you fellas?’ I asked.

  ‘We’ve been sent here to deliver a message,’ the first one said.

  ‘And let me guess,’ I said, ‘this isn’t the kind of message you could have slid under the door, or just put in the mail box.’

  ‘’fraid not,’ the second one said, shaking his head. He had a thick neck and a head like a block of cement; they both did.

  ‘Who’s the message from?’

  They looked at each other. Could it be they were instructed to deliver a message, but weren’t told how to handle this question?

  ‘Come on, you guys are messengers, right?’

  ‘We’re convincers,’ the first one said.

  ‘Is that what you’re called now?’ I asked.

  ‘Convincers,’ the second man said. ‘We’re here to convince you to change your mind.’

  ‘Take a new course of action,’ the first one said.

  ‘Do the right thing.’

  All of sudden I was thinking, Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘but who’s the message from? Just so I know what the right thing is.’

  ‘We’re not supposed to say,’ Dee said.

  ‘Not til after, anyway,’ Dum said.

  ‘So,’ Dee said, ‘make this easy on all of us.’

  ‘Take it like a man,’ Dum said.

  They started toward me and I thought, fuck me if I’m gonna take a beating just to make it easy for them.

  I broke for the door, knowing there wasn’t a chance I was going to make it.

  SIXTY-SIX

  I tried not to feel the pain.

  I tried to withdraw, crawl inside myself, deny the pain and look at the situation dispassionately. Were these guys sent by Frankie D., to prove he was a tough guy? Or by Howard Hughes, to convince me to work for him? Those were the only two situations I was dealing with. Frankie had been blindfolded, but maybe Rigatoni went back to him as soon as we let him go.

  Boy, I thought, Jerry’s gonna be disappointed that he hadn’t scared Frankie enough – or maybe even Joey Rigatoni – to avoid this.

  Unless they were working for Howard Hughes, the businessman, the corporate raider, the Hollywood producer. Had he decided to turn to violence to make his point? Was that the way he thought it was done in Vegas?

  These guys were good. Their punches were well-placed for maximum effect. At one point I thought, Man, if they keep this up they could kill me.

  I got a shot in once in a while, but eventually I just tried to cover up, roll myself up into a ball … and then it stopped.

  I uncovered my head, uncoiled my body to take a look, and saw them being pummeled by Jerry. His big fists landed telling blows, convincing the convincers that their job was done and they better get out. He actually lifted one of them off his feet and tossed him across the room. I think it was Dee. Dum ran over, picked his friend up, and they ran into the kitchen, presumably looking for a back way out.

  Jerry bent over me, saying, ‘Mr G., Mr G., are you OK?’

  I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I tried again. ‘Catch one,’ I croaked. ‘N-need to know who sent them.’

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Go!’

  He got up, ran into the kitchen, following them out the back door.

  I staggered to my feet and took stock. Bruises, pain, all my teeth were still there, no permanent damage – probably thanks to Jerry.

  By the time he returned I was sitting on my sofa with a glass of bourbon. The bottle was on the coffee table in front of me.

  ‘I couldn’t catch ’em,’ he said, mournfully. ‘I’m sorry, Mr G.—’

  ‘Don’t be sorry, Jerry,’ I said. ‘If you didn’t save my life, you saved me from a lot more pain.’

  ‘You’re bleeding.’

  ‘I am? Where?’

  ‘Your head.’ He touched his forehead at the hair line.

  I touched myself in roughly the same place, came away with some blood.

  ‘I’ll get a wet cloth,’ Jerry said.

  When he retur
ned I was on my second glass. I sat still and allowed him to clean the scalp wound, which bled worse than it was. My jaw hurt, as did my ribs, probably from kicks that had made it through my defenses.

  ‘Do you wanna go to the hospital?’ he asked.

  ‘Not so far,’ I said. ‘Let’s see what happens when I try to stand up again.’ I pushed the bottle towards him. ‘Have a drink and a seat.’

  ‘I’ll sit,’ he said, ‘but bourbon ain’t my drink, and you got no beer. Mr G., what was you thinkin’, comin’ here alone?’

  ‘I thought I was going to change my clothes and come back to the Sands.’

  ‘And what happened?’

  ‘A woman.’

  ‘Always a broad,’ he said.

  ‘Emily,’ I said, ‘the girl I met at the club. She showed up at my door. I was going to take her for coffee, and when I stepped into the bedroom to get dressed, she apparently opened the door to those two and took off.’

  ‘Bitch!’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but now I wanna find her.’

  ‘And make her pay.’

  ‘First,’ I said, ‘I want to know who sent her.’

  ‘You think it was Frankie D.? That Rigatoni told him what happened?’

  ‘Maybe,’ I said, ‘but remember, Howard Hughes isn’t happy with me.’

  ‘You think Hughes would send two mugs to work ya over? Does he do business that way?’

  ‘Maybe that’s the way he thinks it gets done in Vegas,’ I said. ‘Before we can do anything, we have to find out.’

  ‘Suppose she’d go back home?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘she’d go where there are people, thinking she’ll be safe.’

  ‘Where’s that?’

  I put the empty glass down, didn’t refill it. ‘She works at a law firm. She’ll go there.’ I checked my watch. ‘But I have a lunch date with Detective Martin, at Grabstein’s. I’ll have to do that first. That’ll give her time to think she’s safe.’

  ‘I’ll go with you to Grabstein’s,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, you will,’ I said. ‘I’ll explain your presence to Martin. You can sit at another table and eat. Are you heeled?’

  ‘I am,’ he said, ‘I have been since we snatched Frankie D.’

 

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