‘Anything else, sir?’ she asked politely.
‘Not right now, thanks, Didi.’
She nodded and walked away.
Adrienne picked up the martini and sipped it gratefully.
‘Have the police been in touch with you?’ I asked.
‘No, and I’ve wondered about that.’
‘With their sights set on Jerry, there’s no reason to bother you.’
‘That doesn’t sound like a very good way to run an investigation.’
‘I agree. Do you know of anyone else who might have wanted to kill Christopher?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘If it had been Philip who was killed, I may have been able to give you some names. He has a lot of people mad at him.’
I thought about that for a moment.
‘Let’s assume for a moment,’ I said, ‘that Philip didn’t kill his own brother.’
‘All right,’ she said. ‘That would make me feel . . . a little better.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Which of the people who are mad at Philip would have killed Christopher to make a point?’
FORTY
‘My younger brother is the family accountant,’ she said. ‘I’ll ask him.’
‘He did Philip’s books?’
She hesitated, then said, ‘Not officially.’
‘OK, I don’t need to know the family details,’ I said. ‘But I would like some names that we can check out.’
‘We?’ she asked. ‘Are you a detective, too, Eddie?’
‘No, but I know one. A good one. If I give him enough information, he should be able to get to the bottom of things.’
‘Do you need a client?’ she asked. ‘If he needs to be paid—’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ I said. ‘Bing Crosby’s footin’ the bill—’
‘Not for my family, he isn’t,’ she said. ‘If your detective is going to find out who killed my brother, I’m going to pay him.’
‘I don’t think Danny would object to bein’ paid by a beautiful woman,’ I said. ‘In fact, I know he wouldn’t.’
‘I’d like to meet him.’
‘I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.’
‘Why? Is he one of those detectives with a flat nose and scars on his face? A big cigar in his mouth?’
‘Actually,’ I said, ‘Danny’s too handsome for his own good. I try never to introduce him to women I’m interested in.’
‘Am I on that list, now?’ she asked. ‘Women you are interested in?’
‘Let’s say I find you interesting,’ I said.
She smiled.
‘You’re very good at tap dancing with words, aren’t you?’
‘I have to be,’ I said. ‘I can’t dance a lick with my feet.’
When we left the Garden Room I walked her to the front door of the hotel and had the valet bring her car around.
‘I was serious about wanting to meet your detective,’ she said.
‘I’ll make it happen,’ I said. ‘Where do you live?’
‘I’ll be staying out in Red Rock at my brother’s place until I settle his estate.’
‘Is there much of an estate to settle?’
‘The house, some money, insurance, that sort of thing.’
‘Anybody gonna get rich?’
‘Not that much money, or insurance,’ she said.
‘And then there’s the horse,’ I said. ‘Is it accounted for in the will?’
‘We’re reading the will tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I’ll let you know.’
‘You can call me here.’
‘No home phone?’
The Valet drove her car up at that moment, blue ’62 Pontiac Grand Prix. A nice car, but nothing flashy.
‘I’ll instruct them to give it to you if you call when I’m not here.’
I walked her around, opened her door and closed it after her, then leaned on it.
‘Remember,’ I said, ‘the more information I have, the more I can get done.’
‘I’ll call you,’ she said. ‘Meantime, watch out for Philip.’
‘I will.’
She put her hand over mine, then started the car and drove off.
The Valet, Tim Daly, came over to me and said, ‘Nice lookin’ piece, Eddie. New?’
‘Very.’
‘Well, toss her my way when you’re done.’
I looked at him and said, ‘I might keep this one around for a while, Tim.’
‘Yeah,’ Daly said, ‘right. Tell me another one.’
He ran off to park a car.
I turned to go back inside when I saw Jerry walking towards me, in between cars.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ I asked.
‘Went to the Horseshoe for breakfast,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know I was under house arrest.’
‘No, no, nothin’ like that,’ I said. ‘I was worried.’
‘About me? Aw, Mr G.’
‘Well, we’ve got two dead bodies, and Philip Arnold walkin’ around with his muscle-bound buddies.’
‘I can handle them.’
‘Just the same,’ I said, ‘I think you and me better stay together from here on out.’
‘You gonna look out for me, Mr G?’ he asked.
‘We’re gonna look out for each other, Jerry,’ I said, ‘like always.’
FORTY-ONE
We got in my Caddy and drove back down to Fremont Street, from which Jerry had just returned. He’d woken up that morning with a taste for the pancakes at the Horseshoe’s coffee shop, and took a cab over there and back.
He didn’t mind going back down there, though.
‘I know why everybody likes the strip,’ he explained, ‘and I especially like the way Fremont Street feels.’
We managed to find a parking spot in front of the Apache Hotel, just down from the Horseshoe’s corner entrance. We didn’t go to the Horseshoe, but to Danny Bardini’s office, first grabbing coffees for us and Danny, and hot tea for Penny.
As we entered carrying coffee and tea containers she smiled and said, ‘Hi, Jerry.’
‘I got you some tea,’ he said, wanting her to know that he was the one who remembered.
‘You’re very sweet to remember,’ she said, and he just about blushed.
‘Boss in?’ I asked.
‘At his desk,’ she said. ‘Paying bills, so he’s not going to be happy.’
‘Well, I think I can keep him that way,’ I said. Jerry and I went in.
‘There’s the big guy,’ Danny said, accepting his coffee from me. He stood up and shook hands with Jerry warmly. They had started out with a slight mistrust of each other, and ended up liking each other, although neither would admit it.
‘Still findin’ bodies, huh, Shamus?’ Jerry asked.
‘You should talk, Gunsel,’ Danny said. ‘At least mine wasn’t pummeled much.’
‘Yeah, I like a clean kill better, myself,’ Jerry said.
‘Can we not discuss the state of dead bodies?’ I asked. ‘We’ve got more important things to do.’
‘Like what?’ Danny asked.
‘We gotta solve these murders,’ Jerry said.
‘Why?’ Danny frowned. ‘I thought we were leavin’ that to the cops?’
‘That was the plan,’ I said, ‘but the Sheriff’s dicks are lookin’ at Jerry for Chris Arnold’s murder.’
‘Why?’
‘Because they talked to Hargrove.’
‘And I suppose they’re lookin’ at you for the trainer killing?’ Danny asked.
‘No,’ I said, ‘you.’
He frowned again, but said, ‘Well, that makes more sense than you.’
‘And they told Bing Crosby not to leave town.’
‘Why? He didn’t even find the body.’
‘Might have something to do with the fact that he’s still tryin’ to buy the horse.’
Danny sat back in his chair.
‘I can work the killing of the trainer,’ he said. ‘This is my turf. I don’t know anything about Red Rock Canyon.’
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‘I talked with the sister today,’ I said. ‘She’s gonna get me some names, people her brother Philip is in business with.’
‘I thought the dead brother was Christopher?’ Danny asked.
‘He is, but from talking to Adrienne I think Christopher might have been killed as a warning to Philip.’
‘Is he shady?’
‘She said nobody was sure what his business was.’
Danny nodded and said, ‘Shady. She can’t think of anybody who would have wanted to kill Christopher?’
‘No.’
‘Could be she just sees him that way.’
‘I thought of that.’
‘What’s her business?’
‘Antiques.’
‘And Christopher’s business?’
‘Investments, but he was getting out of that and into horses.’
‘Racin’ them?’
‘Breeding them. Her younger brother is an accountant. She’s gonna see what he knows about their brothers.’
‘So I’ll work the trainer killing and you and Jerry will work the Red Rock?’
‘I suppose,’ I said. ‘You’re the detective.’
‘I’ll supervise,’ he said. ‘You’ll pretty much have to wait and see what kind of information she gets to you. So unless you wanna go back out there and prowl around the house . . .’ He shrugged.
‘Mr G. might wanna do that,’ Jerry said.
‘Oh? Why?’
‘You ain’t seen the sister,’ Jerry said.
‘Nice?’
‘A looker,’ Jerry said. ‘Tall, stacked—’
‘Yeah, OK,’ I said, ‘she’s good lookin’. By the way, she wants to meet you.’
‘Me? Why?’ Danny asked.
‘She wants to pay the freight on this investigation. I told her how good you are.’
‘But you’re the one lookin’ at her brother’s murder, not me.’
‘You’re supervising,’ I reminded him.
‘Right. Well, then, if I was you I’d drive back out there. Give the house a good once over, see what you find.’
‘What are we lookin’ for?’ Jerry asked.
‘Anything,’ Danny said. ‘Any of his records, letters, calendars; whatever you can find.’
‘I should’ve arranged it when I saw Adrienne this morning,’ I said. ‘I’ll have to call her.’
‘Will she be there?’ Danny asked.
‘She told me she’ll be staying there until they get the estate settled.’
‘And the horse will be part of the estate,’ Danny said.
‘Probably.’
‘Well,’ he said, ‘I guess I better head back over to the hotel where I found the trainer. Maybe somebody there saw something.’
‘Can I use this phone to call her?’ I asked.
‘You got her number on you?’
I nodded. ‘From when Bing first gave it to me.’
‘OK. I’ll see you guys when we have something to exchange.’
He walked out. I fished the number out of my wallet and picked up his phone.
‘Jerry, can you still hear my Brooklyn?’ I asked, before dialing.
‘Not much, Mr G.’
‘Do I, uh, drop my ‘g’s’ when I talk?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ he said. ‘That you do . . . especially when you been around me for a while.’
I shook my head and dialed the number.
FORTY-TWO
We drove out to Red Rock Canyon. Adrienne and I agreed on the phone that she’d leave the key for us. I think we both knew she’d be a distraction to me.
‘Third time here,’ Jerry said, as he cut the engine in front of the house.
We looked around outside first, and in the barn.
‘Where’s the horse?’ Jerry said.
‘They must have moved it someplace they could take care of it.’
‘She didn’t tell you that?’
‘No.’ We both wondered why.
There was still yellow police tape in the barn, but none on the house. I took the key from the rock she’d hidden it under and unlocked the front door.
Inside we split up. I took the office, going through the papers in the desk and the file cabinets. Jerry took the rest of the house.
I was sitting at the desk, leafing through things, when he came in carrying cans of Piels.
‘Beer?’ he asked. ‘It’s goin’ to waste in the frig.’
I nodded. He handed me the beer and sat down across from me. I sat back.
‘Find anything?’ I asked.
‘Some money stuffed into a coffee can in the kitchen. About five grand.’
‘Emergency fund.’
‘Nothing in the bedroom or the bathroom. There’s another bedroom, must be for guests. There’s nothin’ personal in there.’
I sipped my beer.
‘Anythin’ in here?’ he asked.
‘A lot,’ I said. ‘A lot of paperwork. There may be something in here but I’m not seein’ it.’
‘Maybe we should take it all with us,’ he suggested. ‘You know somebody who could make sense of it?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘well, maybe Adrienne does.’
‘The sister?’
‘Yeah, she says her younger brother’s an accountant.’
‘Did he work for the family?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘We let him in here he may hide somethin’,’ Jerry said. ‘You know, to protect his family.’
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘You may be right. We need somebody on the outside.’
‘The Sands has gotta have some accountants,’ he said.
‘Yup.’
We stayed and drank our beer for a while. When my can was empty I put it aside and started going through papers again.
‘Got an idea?’
‘I’m just lookin’ for papers that have something to do with the horse.’
‘Want another beer?’ Jerry asked. ‘Frig is full.’
‘No, thanks.’
He grabbed my empty from the desk and carried it with his back into the kitchen. I heard him pop another one, and then I heard the shot.
‘Jerry!’
The sound of breaking glass reached me just a second after the shot. Or maybe it was the other way around. I don’t know. Thinking back it could have been either way.
I got out from behind the desk and ran to the kitchen, calling his name again.
‘Get down!’ he shouted as I entered. I dropped to the floor immediately, skidded on the tiles and cut my knees on broken glass.
‘Ow! Are you hit?’ I asked.
‘No,’ he said. ‘One shot, though, and a close one. Either he’s a good shot and he missed on purpose, or I got lucky.’
We were both crouched down by the kitchen counter, which also had shards of glass on it.
‘You got your gun?’ I asked.
‘Yeah. I thought it made sense to carry it, what with bodies droppin’ all around us.’
‘You know where the shot came from?’
‘No, but the barn figures.’
‘But if the shooter’s in the barn why didn’t he shoot us when we were there?’
‘Maybe he wasn’t in position yet.’
‘Think he’s waiting for us to poke our heads up?’ I asked.
‘Maybe.’
‘You wanna go out the back?’ I asked. ‘I’ll give him somethin’ to shoot at.’
‘You sure, Mr G?’
‘Should we do it the other way around?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘that wouldn’t work.’
‘Then you go.’
‘If he’s still out there, I’ll get ’im, Mr G.,’ Jerry assured me.
‘Go!’
He scuttled across the floor and out of the kitchen. There was a door right there, but it wouldn’t have been smart to use it. And he couldn’t go out the front door. I knew if there wasn’t another door, Jerry would make one for himself.
FORTY-THREE
I took a deep breath and then stuck my head
up quickly. There was another shot, some more breaking glass that showered down on me. I hit the floor again, cut my hand, this time.
Get him, Jerry, I thought.
I wondered if I should pop up one more time, but thought that might be pushing it. Instead I found a yellow dish towel, and a broom in a corner. I hung the towel on the end of the broom and lifted it up. The shooter was either gone, or too smart to be fooled. I dropped the towel and broom, scuttled over to the door that led to the dining room, and got myself out of the kitchen.
Both the kitchen window and the front door were visible from the hayloft of the barn. I went to a front window and risked a peek outside. I didn’t see Jerry, or anyone else. Hopefully the big guy was going around behind the barn.
I went to one of the back bedrooms, found an open window that Jerry must have used to get out, and went out the same way.
I worked my way around to the back of the barn, hoping I was retracing Jerry’s steps.
I got around the back, flattened myself against the wall, and waited, listening intently. After a few minutes I heard Jerry’s voice.
‘Mr G!’
It sounded like he was out front. Was he OK? Or being forced at gunpoint to call me?
‘Jerry?’
‘Out front, Mr G.,’ Jerry called. ‘It’s all clear.’
I walked around the barn and joined him out front.
‘How can it be all clear?’ I asked, my shoulders hunched, waiting for a bullet. ‘He was just here.’
‘Well, he’s gone now,’ Jerry said.
‘Was he up there? In the loft?’
‘Yeah,’ Jerry said. ‘He was using a bale of hay to steady his rifle.’
‘So after he took the second shot at me, he left.’
‘Looks like.’
‘I don’t get it, Jerry,’ I said. ‘Neither victim was shot. Why use a gun now?’
‘I don’t know, Mr G.,’ he said. ‘Maybe he’s for hire. It seems to me he was a pro.’
‘But he missed.’
‘Pros miss, Mr G.,’ he said. ‘Sometimes.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘lucky for us.’
‘Should we get out of here?’
‘Yeah. No, wait.’
‘For what?’
‘There’s one road in here and one road out, Jerry,’ I reminded him.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘We could catch him.’
‘You go get the car.’
‘What are you gonna do?’
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