Cold Desert Sky

by Rod Reynolds

  I searched his eyes, saw there was no cynicism, no recognition of the hypocrisy in his words. ‘You shot him, you goddamn animal.’

  ‘I pulled the trigger, there’s a difference. We’re all pawns to them, you should realise that.’

  ‘Justify it however you want.’

  ‘You cross him again, Moe will kill you and your old lady, no question. But if Mr Siegel involves himself … hell, he might kill everyone you ever knew. There’s a reason he picked up that nickname.’

  I let go of the envelope, sensing his fear. ‘Don’t counsel me, you worthless son of a bitch. Do you even remember what it’s like to not be scared every minute of your life?’

  He pressed it to my chest. ‘Do you?’

  I held his stare, the gun under his suit coat seeming to radiate heat.

  ‘You don’t hide it well,’ he said. ‘Never seen a man such an obvious disappointment to himself.’

  ‘It’s the company I’ve kept all these years.’

  ‘That what you tell yourself?’

  I took the envelope from him and turned to go.

  ‘Don’t you want the lowdown?’ he said, his tone taunting, knowing he’d got under my skin.

  I stopped, desperate to get back to Lizzie but wrestling with what would put the next target in more danger, knowledge or ignorance. Wondering what course might have spared Bayless. A flash of self-pity hit me, wishing Harlan Layfield had never saved my life in Hot Springs so I’d never have known this bind. Alice Anderson’s words, There are worse things than dying. Disgust hot on its heels – selfish, indulgent, weak.

  I wheeled around again. ‘Say your piece.’

  But he was already opening the car’s passenger door to climb in. ‘It’s all in the envelope. I was just curious to know how far they got their hooks into you.’

  The car pulled away. I turned to go in the opposite direction, walking at speed until they were out of sight and then starting to run. But visions of Bayless made my legs buckle and I stumbled against the alley wall, trying to hold myself up and failing. Collapsing to the ground, feeling like I belonged there.

  *

  Took me five minutes to find a payphone. I called Tanner’s office, pacing on the spot while it dialled, finally hanging up after thirty rings with no answer. I dropped another dime and called the office at the Breakers Motel, the dial tone taunting me, again no answer. I slammed the phone down, feeling like I was the last man left in the goddamn city.

  I had to flag a cab to take me back to the car, left a block from Ciglio’s. When it dropped me off, I jumped inside and tore off towards the beach, but a wreck in Beverly Hills brought traffic almost to a standstill. I hit the horn, yelling at no one, weighing if I should ditch the car to make a run for a payphone. I thumped the steering wheel.

  Questions started to pierce my frustration. How had they found Lizzie and me? The list of people knew our whereabouts was short: Tanner, Bryce and Hendricks – the agent who’d kept watch overnight; I’d even kept Buck Acheson out of the loop. A darker thought: if they knew where Lizzie was, why not take her to use as leverage against me? Siegel’s outfit had tried it before, when I was in Hot Springs – why not now? The only answer I could make stand up was that they’d spotted the agents outside and put it together that I was talking to the law. Was that what sealed Bayless’ fate? Rosenberg said I was the one being punished – but he implied it was for telling Bayless to run. Now I wondered if he was hinting at this instead.

  My head swirled with it all, and then a charge went off in my brain. Go back – the list: Tanner, Bryce, Hendricks. The men who knew where we were—

  Impossible. But with everything I’d seen, there were no absolutes any more.

  I leaned on the horn and didn’t let go.

  *

  It was another hour before I made it back to the Breakers. I made the turn off the highway and raced across the lot. I braked hard, jumped out and left the car with the door flung open.

  Bryce and Hendricks were where I’d left them, seated in their vehicle. Bryce jumped out when he saw me, looking alarmed. Seeing his face, I turned to our room – drapes drawn, door closed, and ran the last few steps. Bryce called after me. ‘What happened?’

  I ignored him, hammering on the door. After a moment, Lizzie opened up and ushered me inside.

  Bryce came up behind me. ‘Yates, what happened?’

  I kept my eyes on him. I moved Lizzie inside gently, said to Bryce over my shoulder, ‘Get Tanner here now.’ He made to follow, but I closed the door on him.

  I stood there, holding Lizzie and wondering what the hell to do. She sensed something had changed, pulling me into the embrace and saying nothing.

  Bryce rapped on the door, ‘Yates?’ Neither of us moved.

  Finally she looked up at me.

  ‘They killed him,’ I said.

  She closed her eyes and buried her head in my chest, whispering something I couldn’t catch.

  I gave her a moment then told her the rest, sparing the details. She flinched when I mentioned the photograph of her, her shock obvious enough to make me hold back on the implications. But the look on her face told me she’d already arrived at them. Her eyes moved to the door. ‘You don’t think …’

  ‘Who else knew where we were?’

  ‘That’s … how can that be? They’re government men.’

  Bryce knocked on the window now. ‘Yates? Will you open the door please?’

  ‘We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,’ she said.

  I nodded, grinding my teeth, neither of us convinced. Feeling trapped in that room.

  ‘What should we do? We can’t stay here.’

  ‘Maybe what you said all along.’

  Bryce knocked once more. ‘Special Agent Tanner will be here in ten minutes. Yates, can you hear me?’

  I looked around, thinking. The only other way out was the bathroom window. I went to it, sized it up as just big enough to fit through. It led onto an empty lot covered in sand and a scattering of weeds. But leaving that way would mean ditching the car.

  Lizzie put her hand on my arm. ‘Charlie, wait a moment. You’ve had a terrible shock, maybe you’re not seeing straight.’

  ‘You had the same thought.’

  ‘Maybe neither of us are.’

  I closed my eyes, wishing I had time just to think. ‘It doesn’t add up.’

  I looked at her again, desperate for her to see an angle I couldn’t.

  ‘If Siegel’s men knew you were talking to the FBI, surely they wouldn’t take a risk like that.’

  There was sense in what she said. ‘I need to talk to Tanner. Put him on the spot.’

  ‘Somewhere public.’

  I stared at her, my certainty undermined again.

  ‘It can’t hurt to be cautious,’ she said. ‘The coffee shop on the corner – you can have Bryce tell Tanner to meet us there.’

  I kissed her on the forehead and went to the door, called out. ‘Bryce? When Tanner shows up, have him go to the joint on the corner. Now get in your car and shut the doors and windows.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me. Get going.’

  I peered around the drape, saw Bryce backing towards his car slowly, glancing at Hendricks, his face twisted in confusion. I pulled it back a little so he could see me. He kept going.

  When he’d shut himself in, I gathered our bags and took Lizzie by the hand. ‘Let’s go.’

  I opened the door and fast-walked to the car, shielding Lizzie with my body, watching Bryce and Hendricks. Neither man made a move.

  The car door closest to us was the one I’d left open, but I led Lizzie to the far side, so the car was between us and them as we got in. The key was still in the ignition. I pulled around in a tight circle, watching Bryce in the rearview all the way out of the lot.

  *

  Tanner walked in looking dazed. I’d calmed down some, enough to feel a creeping uncertainty in my actions. We’d taken a table right in the middle of the coffee shop. I was
thinking safety in a crowd, but listening to the conversations around me, hearing normal people with normal cares, brought on a perverse sense of relief; a reminder that the world went on undaunted.

  Tanner came over and sat down heavily. ‘Can you explain to me what the hell is going on?’ He looked at Lizzie. ‘Forgive me, ma’am.’

  Lizzie cocked her head.

  ‘I’d ask you the same thing,’ I said.

  ‘Where did they take you?’

  ‘You weren’t watching?’

  ‘I didn’t anticipate them moving you. We were aware they took you out the back way but we weren’t able to follow covertly.’

  ‘They killed Trent Bayless in a warehouse near Hancock Park.’ I watched his face but he only glanced at the tables either side of us, as if I’d spoken too loud. ‘I can take you there but my guess is the body’s gone.’

  He snapped back to look at me again. ‘We need to discuss this in private. Every detail. Give me the address, I’ll send some men right away.’

  I didn’t know it exactly, but gave him directions based on the cab journey I’d taken back. ‘There’s something else. They had a photograph of our room at the Breakers.’

  ‘What?’ He leaned forward over the table, his voice barely a hiss now. ‘How is that possible?’

  I watched him, felt Lizzie’s eyes burrowing into him at the same time.

  He glanced at her and then back at me again. ‘What’s with the look?’

  ‘Who else knew where we were staying?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You, Bryce, Hendricks. Who else?’

  ‘Two more agents under my charge, that’s all. Just what are you implying?’

  ‘How would you explain it?’

  He stabbed his finger at the middle of the table. ‘You’re way off track if you’re suggesting the information somehow came from my men. A million miles off.’

  He said it with enough fury to make me break his stare. ‘I don’t have any answers.’

  ‘You damn sure do not.’ He rubbed the side of his face, eyes screwed shut. ‘Wait a minute, if they knew where to find you, how do you know they aren’t still watching?’ He jerked his head around to look through the window. ‘You goddamn—’ His eyes flicked to Lizzie and he checked himself, came back in a whisper. ‘You jackass, if they’re watching now, you’ve jeopardised my operation.’

  All the blood ran from my face. He pushed his chair back sharply. ‘I’ll be at my office in thirty minutes. Call me there immediately. I’ll have Bryce and Hendricks tail you, they’ll let me know if you’re being watched.’

  He stood up and was gone.

  *

  We gave Tanner a two-minute lead, then left the diner as fast as we could without making a commotion. I scanned the street as we came outside, looking for waiting cars or men watching us, wondering if meeting with Tanner would’ve forced Siegel’s hand and put us in immediate danger.

  I bundled Lizzie into the car through the driver’s door, not wanting to waste a second, only feeling a small measure of safety when we were moving again.

  ‘What do we do now?’

  I didn’t answer at first, driving without a direction in mind other than back towards the city, the ocean quickly slipping away in the rearview. I caught sight of Bryce and Hendricks two cars back, made a late turn and jumped a red light – anything I could think of to shake a tail, halfway hoping to throw them off too. It felt like every damn motorist I saw was watching us.

  I weaved through traffic until we hit a clear stretch of blacktop. Bryce was still behind us. ‘Did you buy that back there?’

  She rubbed her forehead with trembling fingers. ‘I don’t know what to think. He got pretty hot at you.’

  I nodded, switching lanes, thinking.

  ‘He seemed more worried about his operation than anything else,’ she said. ‘If that’s his priority …’

  ‘I don’t doubt that it is.’

  ‘Then what cause would he have to work against us?’

  ‘One of his men then?’ The idea grew more outlandish every time I spoke it aloud.

  ‘I couldn’t say. But they don’t … they don’t seem the type.’

  ‘The ones we’ve seen.’

  She screwed her eyes shut, covered them with a hand. After a moment, she turned to me again. ‘If you give evidence as to what you saw, surely Mr Tanner can make arrests?’

  ‘That’s my hope.’

  ‘You sound doubtful.’

  ‘A murder charge would mean giving the case to the LAPD.’ I hit the left blinker and made a right turn. ‘And besides, Siegel wasn’t there to implicate.’

  *

  Thirty minutes after we left, I stood at a payphone in Culver City in the shadow of the Helms Bakery. The factory sign loomed over the street, giant letters shilling their Olympic Bread.

  Bryce and Hendricks cruised up to the kerb behind where I’d parked. Bryce rolled his window down. ‘You’re clean, Yates. No one was on you.’

  ‘You’re certain? You managed to keep up.’

  ‘That’s why I’m sure – you weren’t hard to tail.’

  I nodded, trying not to show my disappointment. I expected him to pull away, but he gestured for me to make the call.

  I dialled and Tanner answered immediately. ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s me.’

  ‘Were you followed?’

  ‘Bryce is here, he says not.’ I looked at him as I said it.

  ‘All right. I’ve dispatched men to the address you gave me.’

  ‘I’ll tell you everything that happened. Moe Rosenberg and Vincent Gilardino were there, Gilardino pulled the trigger. You can put me on the stand—’

  ‘Yates, hold up, I can’t take a statement over the telephone.’

  ‘I’ll come to your office then. They’ve got me running another shakedown – you’ve got to put a stop to this.’

  He muttered ‘Goddammit’ away from the mouthpiece. ‘Who’s the target?’

  ‘I didn’t open the envelope yet.’

  ‘Three days again?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘All right. Put Bryce on the line.’

  I waved him over.

  He took the receiver from me and listened. Lizzie watched, hard eyes flicking between me and him.

  Bryce said, ‘Yes, sir,’ and hung up. ‘He wants you to go directly to the field office. We’ll follow after you again, as a precaution. When you get there, wait in your car until I give you the all-clear. If you don’t see me, drive off and make contact again by telephone.’ He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to me. ‘Get going.’

  *

  The address was a low-rise office building in Bunker Hill, the entrance nothing more than a scuffed brown doorway across the street from Grand Central Market. The smell of fresh fish and raw meat carried on the air from the rows of stalls, the din of commerce rising and falling like the last throes of a bad party.

  As soon as I pulled over, Bryce cruised by and called ‘Clear’ through his window.

  Even before we climbed out, a man who could’ve been Bryce’s cousin opened the brown door and waved us inside. He led us up two flights of stairs to a small antechamber that gave way to a larger office. Inside, Tanner was waiting by a desk that was pressed up against the length of one wall. A second, smaller, desk sat opposite, and there were box files stacked all over the floor.

  Tanner gestured to an empty chair. ‘Take a seat.’ He turned his attention to the man that had greeted us. ‘Agent Caxton, will you make Mrs Yates comfortable.’

  He held the door open for Lizzie to go back to the antechamber.

  She looked at him and then took a seat next to me. ‘I’m not easily offended, Mr Tanner.’

  Tanner looked at me.

  ‘Whatever we talk about in here affects both of us.’

  He hesitated a minute, then signalled to Caxton to shut the door. ‘So be it.’ He retook his own seat and held his hand out. ‘Where’s the envelope?’
/>   I held it by my side. ‘Don’t you want to ask me about Bayless?’

  ‘Yes. But the clock’s ticking on this.’ He took it from me and tore it open.

  ‘What about the warehouse?’

  ‘My men found bloodstains, but the body’s been removed. As expected.’

  ‘Why didn’t you send a man to accompany him to the goddamn payphone?’

  He looked up from the envelope. ‘We’re stretched thin. Should I have sent the man who was busy standing sentry for you?’

  ‘You can’t turn this around on me—’

  ‘No? Care to tell me what you were thinking sending him out on an errand?’

  I felt my face redden and looked away.

  He dropped a torn piece of envelope on the desk. ‘Look, we had no reason to fear for his safety at that moment. My information indicated no imminent threat.’ He reached inside, but stopped. ‘He was going down the block to a payphone for Christ’s sake.’

  He looked down again and flicked through the contents, pulling out a handwritten page. The script was precise if not tidy. ‘Well, this isn’t Siegel’s writing. Who handed this to you?’

  ‘Gilardino.’

  ‘Doubtful it’d be his doing. So Rosenberg then.’ He said it to Caxton.

  ‘You say that as if it’s important,’ I said.

  Tanner waved it off, skim reading. ‘Hell, they’re escalating.’ He handed the sheet to Caxton and rifled through the rest of the contents.

  ‘Tanner?’

  ‘They’re going for Lyle Kosoff, the producer at MGM. Fifty thousand dollars.’

  I recognised the name but knew nothing about the man beyond what made the press. ‘What’s the lever?’

  He started to say something but then made a point of looking at Lizzie and handed me one of the pictures instead, face down. ‘See for yourself. Safe to say that’s not his wife.’

  The snap was an action shot, the two bodies a blur, but the man’s face was clear enough to be identifiable to anyone knew him. He appeared to be naked, as did the young black woman he’d hit the mattresses with. I handed it back.