by Rod Reynolds
They were dragging me backwards, my feet scraping the carpet. Lizzie was tearing at Gilardino’s arm, shouting, being pulled along as she tried to stop him. I called for Siegel again, but the crowd had already swallowed him up. I was struggling, kicking out. I connected and Rosenberg stumbled, all of us crashing to the floor, Lizzie too. One of them punched me in the gut, driving the wind out of me, and Lizzie screamed. I tried to tell her to run, but the words wouldn’t form. Rosenberg was in my ear: ‘You stupid fucking cocksucker.’
They pulled me to my feet and bundled me the rest of the way across the room, then parted a drop cloth and took me through the gap. From the bright casino into the gloom, my eyes not adjusting at first, then making out the bare walls of a corridor under construction. To my right, a plyboard partition with a bank of empty spaces at regular intervals, waiting for the elevators that would fill them. I kicked out again, but they had momentum now.
Then we burst through an exit to the outside. Cold air hitting me like a wall. Before Gilardino had even let go, Rosenberg punched me in the face, sending me sprawling. Rocks and gravel beneath me, shredding the skin on my cheek. I heard another scream, realised Lizzie had come out with us. I croaked for her to run, but they were on me then, kicking and stomping. I pulled tight into a ball, taking kicks to my ribs, my back. One of them stamped on my head and I nearly blacked out. Another scream, knowing she was seeing it the worst part. Starbursts behind my eyes, nothing I could do.
Then they stopped. Lizzie was sobbing, calling my name. I didn’t dare look, expecting them to catch their breath and start in again. Or shoot me. But then there was another voice.
‘That’ll do it, fellas. I’ll take it from here.’
I felt a weight pressing down on my torso, smelled Lizzie’s perfume and realised she’d moved to drape herself on top of me. She screamed at them. ‘You animals. You animals—’
Rosenberg spoke, addressing someone else. ‘You must’ve saw what he did, he’s stewed.’
The new party spoke again. ‘Might be best for you to go back inside, miss.’ I placed the voice just as I opened my eyes. Sheriff Robert Lang. He was looking at Rosenberg. ‘Yeah, I saw what went on. Best if I handle it.’ He reached for his handcuffs.
Lizzie was holding my face, calling my name. Lang reached down and shook me gently by the shoulder. ‘Can you stand, Yates?’
‘He needs a doctor, what are you doing? He hasn’t done a damn thing wrong.’
‘He can stand, we’ll get him seen to at the department.’ He raised his voice, spoke slow. ‘Yates – can you walk?’
Lizzie eased herself off me and helped as I scrambled onto all fours. My head was pounding and there was blood on my hands and sleeves. I looked up; Rosenberg and Gilardino were gone. Lang stood over me, Lizzie on her knees by my side.
‘Go arrest them,’ she said, stabbing the air. ‘You saw the whole thing.’
I coughed my throat clear. ‘The girl …’
‘What’s he saying?’
‘Nancy,’ I said. ‘Siegel knows.’
‘Forget that for now,’ Lizzie said.
I struggled to my feet, unsteady, trying not to let Lizzie take my weight. ‘They’ll kill her—’
Lang came forward with the cuffs and locked them on my wrists over Lizzie’s protests.
‘Miss, you’ll thank me for this.’
‘Like hell.’
Lang put his arm under mine and manoeuvred me back inside before I had wits enough to resist. We retraced our steps down the corridor, the sound of music and chatter rising as we approached the drop cloth they’d bundled me through.
‘Do you mean to humiliate us as well?’ Lizzie said.
Lang didn’t answer before he swept the makeshift curtain aside and led me through it. A hush came over the crowd when we appeared, rippling out from our corner of the room. I’d had my head down from the pain, but I looked up then, blinking against the too-bright chandelier light.
‘SIEGEL.’ I couldn’t see him, called out again. ‘Siegel, tell me where she is.’ The room felt cavernous in the quiet, my voice like a jagged thunderclap.
Lang pulled at the cuff chain, shooting me a stern look. ‘No. C’mon.’
‘Siegel, you lay a finger on her and I’ll be on you for ever.’
‘Go sleep it off, friend, you’ll feel better.’ His voice. I turned, saw him playing host at a crowded craps table.
‘I know what you did,’ I said.
‘Is that so?’ He spread his arms, magnanimous. ‘You gotta take more water with it, folks, it’s the desert air.’ He glanced side to side, soaking up the polite laughter. His mouth was ajar in a shape the crowd might mistake for a smile.
Lang took us out through reception, Lizzie flushed red with anger and shame, dipping her head to hide her face. Her hair was out of place, a small detail that tore at me until I realised that wasn’t the worst of it; as I stumbled across the lot to Lang’s car, I saw a slashing welt on her cheek where she’d been struck.
With his hand on my head, Lang guided me into the backseat. Lizzie was on the other side and I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. The Flamingo filled my window, all I could see until Siegel appeared at the entranceway; watching as we took off, his eyes were two black bullets.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lang surprised me when we got to his office, taking the cuffs off me before I could even ask. ‘You want to see a medic?’
I shook my head, wincing as it intensified the pounding in my brain, and gestured to Lizzie. ‘Someone to take a look at my wife.’
Her hand shot up to the welt on her cheek, hiding it more than favouring it. ‘I’m fine.’
Lang looked at me as he folded his handcuffs away, deliberate movements as if he was thinking, then switched his gaze to her. ‘Even so, we should get you fixed up. Wait there a minute.’
He looked at me again as he stepped outside, and I got the impression he was giving us a moment’s privacy.
‘Are you in pain?’
She shook her head, turning to put it out of view. ‘It’s fine, Charlie, thank you.’
I went over and crouched beside her, cradling the back of her head. ‘They hit you.’
‘Nothing like they did to you.’
The guilt made me feel ill. ‘Which one was it?’
She shied away again. ‘Why does it matter?’
Because I’ll kill them. ‘I suppose it doesn’t right now.’
Lang walked back in, carrying a first aid kit. I backed off, knowing that she blamed me. Knowing she was right to. He set the kit on the desk and opened it up. ‘Would you tilt your head to the light, ma’am?’ He wiped the wound clean, displaying a gentle touch I wouldn’t have expected of the man. Then he reached for a tube of salve. ‘This might sting.’ Lizzie was stock-still as he applied it, a distant ‘Thank you’ when he finished.
Lang beckoned to someone outside the office and a woman in civilian clothes came in.
‘Ma’am, this is Mrs Hampton, I’m gonna go ahead and ask you to go with her a minute. She’ll get you taken care of.’
Lizzie looked at me, hesitant. ‘I’m not leaving Charlie.’
‘You’ll be right across the way there, I promise you’re in good hands.’
It felt like he wanted to spare her whatever was coming next. I nodded to Lizzie, signalling for her to go, mouthing, ‘Tanner.’
She frowned, a slight shake of the head.
I shot her a questioning look. ‘I’ll handle him.’
Her frown turned to annoyance and she looked at the floor before she stood up and turned to Lang. ‘I’d like to make a telephone call.’
‘That can be arranged.’ He faced the woman. ‘Mrs Hampton’ll see to it.’
She smiled and gestured to lead Lizzie out.
When they were gone, he held up the salve and said, ‘What about you?’
‘You have an aspirin in that bag?’
He fetched a pill bottle and handed it to me. ‘Could’ve got yourself in real troub
le back there.’
I shrugged. ‘Siegel’s running girls he’s billing as starlets. Exclusive clientele. Odds on he’s linked to the Desjardins murder and that means Nancy Hill might still be in reach. I need to know everything about—’
‘Hold on, cowboy, where’d you get that from? Harry Heller?’
‘Yeah.’
He nodded, as if mentally putting a file back in its drawer.
‘Wait a minute, did you know?’
He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth. ‘No.’
‘No?’
‘No. I did not.’
‘The sheriff of Las Vegas didn’t know Ben Siegel was running—’
‘Settle down, son.’
‘Heller was in your office, telling you to look at Siegel, and you’re saying you knew nothing?’
A second stretched by in silence. ‘I had suspicions.’
‘This is …’ My brain was whirling, trying pieces for a fit, the scene flipping on me as I thought about it. ‘The clientele is money men only. Men like Heller?’
Lang said nothing, his jaw set hard.
‘… but he wouldn’t be about to admit to you he was consorting with girls Siegel’s peddling, even while he’s trying to run him out of town.’
Still silent.
Me recalling the conversation I’d eavesdropped, at the time thinking I was being smart, but maybe—‘You meant for me to hear that conversation. In here. You wanted me to go after Heller tonight.’
Still silent – but a look of satisfaction on his face as good as a yes.
I felt dumb, used. But the sense that I’d got Lang all wrong eclipsed it.
He sniffed and leaned against his desk, folding his arms. ‘This other girl, Hill, if she’s still alive, we have to assume she’s in danger.’
I sat down and stood right up again, my head spinning. Thinking you’re a step ahead and finding you’re two behind. ‘We find her, tonight. Now. Where does he operate out of?’
‘I don’t know. To my knowledge he’s not been involved in the trade up to now.’
‘Heller, then. He knows how to contact them.’
He nodded. ‘He won’t talk to me, though.’
I was at the door. ‘He wants to stop Siegel, this is it. This is the way.’
‘Still. There’s pride at stake; reputation. He let slip to you, though, makes me hopeful.’
‘Put me in a room with him again then.’
‘You sure you’re up to it?’ He tapped the side of his head with his knuckle.
After all of it, still a chance at finding Nancy Hill; a surge of adrenaline that took the pain away faster than morphine. ‘I’m up to it.’
*
I asked for thirty seconds with Lizzie before we left. I felt bad running out on her that way, but couldn’t see anything else for it.
‘Did you manage to reach Tanner?’ I couldn’t take my eyes off the welt on her face.
She shook her head. ‘He’s not at the motor court. I’ll try to get a message to him via the office in Los Angeles.’
I thought about Tanner’s instruction to tell Siegel I’d write the smear piece on Lyle Kosoff, blown out of the water. I justified it, telling myself I was the target of his anger now. As if he hadn’t enough for two. ‘Do that. Tell him he needs to warn Kosoff.’
‘Do you think …’
‘I think all bets are off now.’
‘What should I say to him about where you are?’
‘Nothing. Tell him to meet us at the motor court.’ I squeezed her hand and turned to go.
‘When?’ She didn’t let go and I turned back. There was a desperation in her eyes, the question double-edged.
‘Tonight. Tell him to wait for us there. I’ll come back here and pick you up as soon as I can.’
‘Are we free to go?’
‘Yes. I was wrong about Lang, I think he’s on our side. But stay here until I get back – you’ll be safest that way.’
‘Promise me you won’t do anything reckless.’
‘I can put an end to this, I swear.’
*
Lang sped away from the department in the direction of Fremont Street, briefing me as he drove.
‘This has to be done with a gentle hand,’ he said. ‘You can’t tell him about my involvement.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘The Pioneer Club. He keeps a suite above his office, but he’ll most probably wind up in the bar when he’s back from the Flamingo. He favours a late dinner.’
I looked at my watch: ninety minutes since we’d left Siegel’s joint. ‘What’s the next move if he’s not there?’
‘Wait.’
‘There isn’t time for that. How long you think that girl has?’
‘I’ve made some calls, there are men on the street asking questions, but unless that turns something up …’
I rubbed my forehead, eventually nodding. ‘He ought to have said something sooner. For a man claims he wants rid of Siegel—’
‘He may not have put it together that the dead girl was Siegel’s.’
I looked over. ‘Until?’
‘Until he heard Desjardins was an aspiring actress too. Up to that point, all he knew was she was a dead working girl.’
‘You let on to him after I told you.’
He flicked his blinker to make a turn. ‘I put a few items out there. I didn’t know what might be significant.’
‘But you suspected he knew something?’
‘Hoped. Harry’s public reputation and his private one are not in step, if you understand me. He thinks it’s his guilty secret, but it’s not as secret as he’d like. He’s got a lot of clout, though, so it’s not like anyone’s ever going to bring it up to his face.’ He side-eyed me. ‘Not anyone from around here, anyway.’
‘Why not just ask for my help?’
He bristled a touch and I realised I’d overreached. ‘Don’t talk like you’re a deputy. We have common cause, nothing more.’ He shot me a look, softening the reprimand. ‘It’s only tonight I’m certain you’re not part of Siegel’s outfit.’
We passed every shade of bar and hotel and gambling den, each seeming to get gaudier as we approached downtown. ‘What did you mean throwing me in jail?’
He steered around a pickup. ‘See who came for you. FBI was a surprise.’
‘You thought it’d be one of Siegel’s lawyers?’
‘It’s always the same one, Victor Curzon. I had it fifty-fifty he’d show up for you.’ He looked over. ‘Some time soon, we gonna talk about why the Federals did come for you. Let’s find the girl first.’
We came to a stop at the corner of Fremont and Second, and Lang pointed to the giant vertical sign spelling Pioneer down the block. The neon lightshow was a sight to behold at night, raucous colours vivid against the black sky. ‘I’ll be waiting here.’
I opened the door and got out, then ducked through the doorway to speak to him. ‘If I get a lead on the girl, I mean to go get her.’
He had one hand on the wheel. ‘I have no doubt about that.’
‘Thank you. For getting me out of there tonight.’
He looked down at the buttons on his shirt.
‘How much did you see?’ I asked.
‘Enough. Why’s it matter – you worried about a charge?’
‘No.’
‘Then?’
‘Who hit my wife?’
He set his eyes on the windscreen, his chest inflating with a deep breath. ‘Rosenberg. He backhanded her when she tried to get in his way.’
I nodded once, then tapped the roof of the car and set off.
*
The Pioneer was in full swing; every table in the casino was seeing action, with a crowd of spectators two or three deep around the centrepiece roulette wheels. There was music coming from somewhere – a crooner in a showroom I couldn’t see, a song I didn’t recognise. People swirled around me, very few looking twice at the blood and dust on my suit, everyone holding a drink but not holding their
drink. A sea of faces happy to lose themselves in a place I’d come to hate.
Heller was at the bar tearing into a T-bone bigger than his plate. He saw me coming towards him and stopped with a fork halfway to his mouth.
He set it down as I drew up. ‘Twice in one night. Quite the capacity to surprise.’
I dropped onto the stool next to his. ‘How did you know about Siegel and the girls?’
He gestured to the casino floor. ‘You own a casino, you hear things. Sometimes unsavoury.’
I was shaking my head. ‘A high-class service, that’s what you said. I don’t buy casino chatter.’
He picked up his fork again and put the chunk of meat in his mouth. He spoke as he chewed. ‘Don’t think I don’t hear the accusation in your voice. You come here looking for someone to blame—’
‘I don’t need anyone to blame, I know where that sits well enough. I want the rest of it so I can put Siegel down.’
He sputtered, reaching for his drink to clear his throat. ‘Hell, I’m no advocate for the man, but last I saw, wasn’t Bugsy on the floor.’
‘Tell me how I reach them. Girls-to-order. Give me a way in.’
He took another swig, coughed and spoke again. ‘Look, you put on a good show tonight, but this is for us to take care of now.’
‘Then why did you tell me what you did?’
He shrugged, twirling his fork. ‘Your arrogance was wearing.’
I reached into my inside pocket and pulled the photograph of Desjardins and Hill, slapped it on the counter next to his plate. He wasn’t sure where to leave his eyes, flitting back and forth between the picture and my face, until recognition dawned.
‘They disappeared from Los Angeles together,’ I said. ‘They were both trying to crack Hollywood. One of them is dead, the other one might just still be alive. I don’t care what you did or how you know, but every second you waste is a grain of sand on her grave.’
He put his fork down and squared it next to his knife. ‘No one wants young women turning up dead, and that’s a fact. But this is a delicate matter that’s got to be handled right.’
‘I understand that. Think about what she could have to offer. Her testimony could blow Siegel out of the water.’