It Was a Very Bad Year (22 page)

‘All right,' Rudin said, wearily. He looked at Frank.

‘We'll take your bags to the Sands,' Frank said. ‘Meet you there.' Then he looked at me. ‘Both of you.'

‘OK,' Rudin said.

‘Thanks, Frank,' I said.

‘Mickey will bring you home,' Frank said. ‘Don't worry.' Juliet gave me a dazzling smile of encouragement over Frank's shoulder.

‘OK, boys,' I said, extending my wrists, ‘take me to your leader.'

‘There won't be any need for cuffs, Mr Gianelli,' the cops said. ‘We have a car over here.'

I fell into step with two of them. The other two walked behind us.

Back in the same interview room. I could tell because the wall clock had a paint smudge on it, probably from the last time the room was painted.

Hargrove was going to be mad. I knew that. When he saw the news last night, or that morning, he must have hit the roof. He had the cops watching the airport for Frank's plane, figured I'd be coming back. Now I was going to be back on the stove for the murder of Wayne Whatsisname.

When he came in I was braced for him to be yelling and screaming, red in the face. Instead the door opened and he walked in, all calm and collected. He took off his jacket, hung it over the back of a chair, then sat down at the table across from me. He took the time to light a cigarette, and then rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt.

‘You fucked me, Eddie.'

‘Did I?'

‘That information you gave me was old,' he said. ‘Probably only hours old, but old enough for the LA cops to make the pinch.'

‘But that's good, right?' I asked. ‘They caught the kidnappers.'

‘Yeah, that's good,' Hargrove said, ‘that's real good . . . for them. But I didn't have anything to do with it. So you know what that means?'

‘What?'

‘You're back on the hook for Wayne's murder. You and your big buddy. Where is he, anyway? He wasn't on the plane with you. I told you guys not to leave town for long.'

‘He'll be back later this afternoon, on a commercial flight.'

‘That's good, that's real good.'

‘What about the Rienza brothers?' I asked. ‘Are you still holdin' 'em, or did you let 'em go?'

‘Those two idiots are still in a cell,' he said. ‘One of their guns came up as being used in a robbery in LA. We're still checking on the other one.'

‘How do they look for Wayne?'

‘They have alibis,' Hargrove said, ‘but we're still checking those out.'

‘How come you never asked me for my alibi?'

‘Because I knew you'd have one. Probably unbreakable. That wouldn't mean you didn't do it.'

‘Wow,' I said. ‘That's quite an attitude for a detective to take. That could apply to anyone.'

‘Not everyone has your friends, Eddie. For instance, you got a hotshot lawyer outside, makin' all kinds of noise about wanting me to let you go.'

‘Mickey Rudin.'

‘Yeah, Sinatra's mouthpiece, right?'

‘That's right.'

‘That means you ain't gonna call your buddies, the Kennedys, to get you out this time?'

That had happened some time ago, and it obviously still stuck in his craw.

‘No,' I said, ‘it means you're gonna bust my balls for a while and then let me go.'

‘Why would I do that?'

‘Which one? Bust my balls, or let me go?'

‘Both,' Hargrove said, ‘in any order you like.'

‘Well, you'll bust my balls because you're a sonofabitch, but you'll let me go because you're a good detective.'

He seemed to be surprised by one of those statements.

‘Eddie, Eddie . . .'

‘I didn't kill Wayne Whatsisname, Detective,' I said, ‘and neither did Jerry. Let me out of here and I'll prove it.'

‘Now you're a detective?'

‘You're the detective,' I said. ‘Let's just call me the assistant detective.'

He studied me for a moment.

‘Whataya say?'

F
orty-eight hours.

That's what Hargrove gave me. When they were gone he said he'd be bringing me and Jerry in for some line-ups.

I rode back to the Sands with Mickey Rudin in a car Jack Entratter had sent.

‘Thanks for comin' along, Mr Rudin,' I said.

‘Mickey, please,' Rudin said. ‘I don't think Detective Hargrove will be bothering you anymore, Eddie. If he does, just give me a call.'

I studied Rudin's profile, because he didn't look at me when he spoke. I was sure he thought his presence had gotten me sprung, but the fact was I had gotten myself out. Since Frank was nice enough to send his lawyer with me, though, I didn't do anything to disappoint him.

When we got to the Sands I took Mickey to the front desk to get him the key to his suite. He went upstairs to freshen up, once more assuring me that he was at my disposal.

When he was gone I called Jerry's room. I had lied to Hargrove. Jerry was on Frank's plane, but when he saw the uniformed cops coming, he chose to stay behind until they left – with me in tow.

‘Hey, Mr G.,' he said. ‘That was fast.'

‘Believe it or not, Hargrove was reasonable,' I said.

‘What did you promise him?'

‘The killer of good ol' Wayne.'

‘How we gonna find that out?'

‘You and me,' I said, ‘are gonna find Barney Irwin.'

‘How?'

‘This is my town, Jerry,' I said. ‘I'm gonna pull out all the stops.'

‘This I gotta see, Mr G.'

‘Well, meet me in the lobby,' I said, ‘and be ready to drive.'

My contacts in town were extensive.

Before JFK's death I had put the word out to some of my people, but I'd never really had a chance to cash in. The assassination had taken up most of their time and attention.

This time around, I was gonna hit everybody, and stay on their asses.

We made the rounds on the strip of valets, car hops, bellmen and doormen and waitresses, not to mention the maitre d's.

After that I directed Jerry to drive off the strip. Every few blocks I had him pull over so I could talk to a vendor, a street performer, a cabbie, a truck driver. I had him wait outside buildings while I talked to reporters, photographers, doormen, security guards, reporters; people I knew had their own ears on the streets.

‘Now what?' he asked, when I hopped back into the car after talking to a waitress at a downtown restaurant.

‘Now we're really gonna get down and dirty,' I said. ‘Drive.'

I directed him to a part of town he felt very comfortable in.

‘Now these are my people,' he said, looking at the hookers and stoners.

‘Down boy,' I said. ‘You're a lot better than this.'

‘Thanks, Mr G.,' he said, ‘but sometimes I ain't so sure.'

I directed him down a side street and immediately a couple of girls approached the car, one on each side.

‘Wow,' one girl said to him, ‘you're a big one.' She was a blowsy blonde with big breasts squeezed into a top two sizes too small.

‘Call off your friend, Darla,' I said to the skinnier brunette on my side.

‘Back off, Candy,' Darla said. ‘Eddie here is a friend of mine, not a client.'

‘What about you, sugar?' Candy said to Jerry. ‘Wanna do some business?'

‘Not right now, thanks, baby,' he said. As tongue tied as Jerry was around Ava Gardner and Abby Dalton, he knew how to talk to hookers. ‘Maybe some other time.'

‘What's on your mind, Eddie?' Darla asked.

‘I'm lookin' for a guy who's probably hidin' out,' I said. ‘A photographer named Barney Irwin.'

‘I know Barney,' she said. ‘He's a sleazeball, always tryin' to get me to strip for his camera.'

‘He hasn't succeeded?'

‘I don't do nothin' for nothin', Eddie, you know that.'

‘I do know that.' I handed her a twenty. ‘Keep an eye out, put the word out. A C-note for anybody who finds him and lets me know.'

‘You got it, handsome.'

The double sawbuck disappeared into her bra.

‘Bye, sweetie,' Darla said to Jerry.

‘So long.'

‘Your friend knows where to find my friend, if you get the time,' she said.

‘I'll remember.'

Jerry put the car in drive and I directed him up a few more blocks.

‘Pull over here.'

He pulled to the curb and stopped.

‘What's here?'

‘Wait for it.'

We waited a few minutes and then a guy came staggering down the street. When he got to the car he sort of lurched, bounced off the hood and ended up by my door.

‘Hey, Eddie.'

‘Dewey.'

‘You're not lookin' ta score, so what's up?'

I told him what I told Darla. He didn't know Irwin, but took his description and promised to be on the lookout, and pass the word. After that he staggered off.

‘I hate stoners,' Jerry said.

‘He's not a stoner,' I said. ‘He's a dealer. Never uses his own stuff, just acts like it.'

‘Don't like dealers, either.'

‘Well, you don't have to deal with him, I do.'

‘Where to?' Jerry asked. ‘Time to eat?'

‘Yeah, but not around here. Drive. I'll tell you where.'

I
asked Jerry if he wanted hot dogs but he said not unless they were from Nathan's of Nedicks. We settled on burgers and I directed him to a small burger shack I'd never taken him to before.

‘For a guy who'll eat anythin' you're a real hot dog snob,' I said to him when we sat down at an outdoor table with baskets of burgers and fries.

‘Ain't my fault,' he said, with a shrug. ‘Stuff in Brooklyn is real good. Come on, Mr G. Pizza? You got good pizza out here?'

I had to admit, Brooklyn pizza was still the best I'd ever had.

‘We gonna call the dick today?'

‘Yeah,' I said, ‘right after this. He doesn't have as many ears on the street as I do, but he's got a network.'

‘You know a helluva lot of people, Mr G.,' Jerry said. ‘This photographer ain't got a chance of stayin' hid – unless he left town.'

‘Even then we might be able to find out where he went.'

‘What about hired help?' Jerry asked. ‘If he hired them two jamokes at the warehouse he could hire some more.'

‘Cheap labor,' I said. ‘He either can't or won't lay out the dough for prime help.'

‘That's good for us,' Jerry said. ‘I'm gettin' another burger. Want one?'

‘I'm still workin' on this one,' I said. ‘I don't inhale food the way you do.'

He went off and came back with not only another burger, but another basket of fries. I still had half mine left. We were washing everything down with Cokes.

‘Got any more people to hit today?' he asked. ‘Some real lowlifes?'

‘You don't think we talked to any lowlifes today?'

‘That Dewey looked like a scumbag.'

‘Not Candy and Darla?'

‘They're just whores, Mr G.,' he said. ‘Whores are OK. They're just workin' girls.'

‘Well,' I said, ‘we could go out to some of the ranches.'

‘What ranches?' Jerry asked. ‘We gonna talk to cowboys?'

‘Brothels, Jerry,' I said. ‘Whorehouses.'

‘You call them ranches? Are they legal?'

‘No, but they should be,' I said. ‘Someday they will be, when the politicians get their heads out of their asses.'

‘So they makin' payoffs?'

‘Oh, yeah,' I said. ‘They pay through the nose to operate.'

‘You think Irwin went to one of 'em?'

‘Not if he's cheap,' I said. ‘Rather than go out there, I'll just make some calls.'

We finished eating and I went to a nearby pay phone to call Danny. I found him in his office, answering his own phone,

‘Where's Penny?'

‘Out. What's up?'

I told him I was spreading the word on Irwin, and wanted him to do the same.

‘He may be on a bike.'

‘A bike? Like a Schwinn?'

‘No, like a Harley.'

‘Irwin?'

‘Last time I saw him.' I told him about the warehouse.

‘You let him get away?'

‘Don't rub it in,' I said.

‘What about Jerry?'

‘He was dancing with the Rienza brothers at the time.'

‘The guys who jumped you in Reno?' he asked. ‘Where are they now?'

‘In jail. Hargrove's keepin' 'em under wraps.'

‘How do you stand with him now?'

I explained how he'd taken me from the plane to an interview room, where we talked.

‘Like human beings?'

‘Believe it or not,' I said, ‘we came to an understanding.'

‘I don't believe it,' he said.

‘I think he still sees a chance to get in on the kidnapping,' I said. ‘Like catching the last one.'

‘Barney Irwin?'

‘Well, he's related to one of 'em,' I said. ‘That's close enough for Hargrove.'

‘OK, so I'll put the word out on Irwin,' he said. ‘Between you and me we got the town wired. We'll find the bastard.'

‘Call me when you do.'

‘You do the same.'

We agreed and hung up. When I got back to the table I couldn't believe Jerry had another basket of fries.

‘What the fuck?' I said.

‘I got lonely.'

W
hen we got back to the Sands, Entratter had once again put the word out that he wanted to see me.

‘Where is he?' I asked the bellman. ‘In his office?'

‘No, sir, I just saw him go out on the casino floor.'

‘OK, thanks.'

‘I'm gonna go to my room and wash up,' Jerry said. ‘I'll meet ya out there.'