The Way You Die Tonight (2 page)

During hour four Entratter put in an appearance. He used a key to come in. If he'd knocked Kendrick would have gone to the door, answered it with his hand on his gun.

Entratter came over and stood next to me.

‘How's it goin'?'

‘The regulars are cleaning up,' I said. ‘And by that I mean Devlin and Roburt. Landry's making his usual donation. Temple and Butler are being fleeced.'

‘But is everybody happy?'

‘Happy as they can be,' I said. ‘Have you heard anything about a poker movie with Steve McQueen?'

‘Yeah,' Jack said, ‘
The Cincinnati Kid
.'

‘With Edward G. Robinson?'

‘And Ann-Margret.'

‘Well,' I said, ‘she gets around.'

It had only been months since Ann-Margret was in Vegas with Elvis making
Viva Las Vegas
.

‘She's movin' up,' Entratter said.

‘McQueen is a step up from Elvis?'

‘In the movies, yes.'

‘Hmm.'

‘They got along on
Never So Few
. And that movie gave him a big lift up. He got a three-picture deal after that.'

‘So he owes Frank.'

‘Lots of people owe Frank.'

‘I know.'

‘How's Kendrick?'

‘Alert.'

‘I'll send somebody up to relieve him in a couple of hours.'

‘And me?'

‘I want you here the whole time.'

‘Then you better send up some coffee.'

‘OK.'

He walked to the door and let himself out. Kendrick followed him and made sure the door was locked. He nodded to me and went back to his position. He had not had a drink since the game started. I'd had a Coke. I walked over and stood next to him.

‘Entratter's going to send up some coffee and, in a couple of hours, some relief for you.'

‘I could use both,' he admitted.

Kendrick had been working at the Sands for eight months. This was not the first time our jobs had crossed, but it wasn't a regular thing. We didn't know each other all that well.

I went back to my position.

T
he coffee arrived within half an hour. Kendrick answered the knock on the door and allowed a waiter to wheel in a cart with an urn and enough cups for anyone interested. All of the players imbibed except for Landry, who kept drinking scotch. I had a cup, and so did Kendrick. The bartender eyed the urn, so I told him to have a cup, too.

When there was a knock on the door again, Kendrick assumed it was his relief. Either that or a waiter to remove the coffee urn. He walked to the door and put his hand on the knob. I wanted to be more careful, though.

‘Wait a minute—' I said, but he didn't react. Instead, he opened the door.

‘I'm here to relieve you,' a man said, entering the room.

‘I don't know you—' Kendrick started to say, but suddenly the other man had a gun in his hand and he cold-cocked him.

Another man came into the room behind the first. It was the waiter who had brought the coffee. He was also holding a gun.

‘Everybody relax,' the first man said, as Kendrick went down, ‘and nobody will get hurt.'

I guess I should have relaxed, but instead I grabbed the coffee urn, yanked the top off and tossed the contents in the direction of the two gunmen. I did it without thinking, because if I had thought about it first, I probably wouldn't have done it.

There wasn't a lot of coffee left, but what there was of it was hot. It landed on the first man's face. He dropped his gun and screamed, clawing at his eyes.

The second man was only partially scalded on the arm, but he wasn't able to get out of the way of the urn. The big metal container slammed into him, driving him back several feet.

Before he could regain his balance I put my hands on the serving cart and ran at him. I drove it into him, driving him back even further, until he was pinned to the wall. His gun went flying and struck the floor. There was a metal tray on the table. I picked it up and slammed him on the head with it. His eyes rolled back and he slumped over the table.

The first man was still staggering around, his hand to his scorched face. His gun was also on the floor.

I ran over and bent down to pick up one of the guns.

‘Don't!' somebody said.

The voice came from the poker table. I looked and saw one of the players pointing a small, nickel-plated gun at me. It was Landry, the producer.

‘What the hell …' I said.

‘Sorry, Eddie,' he said, ‘but I needed the money.' He backed away from the table to cover the other players. ‘Put all the money in the center.'

‘How you plan to take the money out, Landry?' I asked. ‘Your two partners aren't gonna be any help.'

‘So I won't have to split with them, after all,' Landry said.

‘What the hell?' Devlin said. ‘I thought you were a big shot producer?'

‘So did I,' Landry said. ‘Turns out one bad movie can put your career in the crapper. You!' he shouted to the bartender.

‘Me?'

‘Yeah, you,' Landry said. ‘Find something to put the money in and collect it all.'

The buy-in was a hundred grand. That meant there was half a million dollars in the room. But I was wondering where Landry had gotten his buy-in if he was broke enough to want to rob the game?

‘Like what?' the bartender asked.

‘A bag,' Landry said. ‘A box. Something. Come on!'

‘You can't do this,' Dan Roburt said. ‘You'll never get away with it.'

‘They were supposed to do it,' Landry said. ‘I just told them about the game. But they blew it, so it's on me now.'

‘But you didn't plan on this, Landry,' I said. ‘Mr Roburt is right. You can't get away with this. This is the Sands, for Chrissake. You know who owns this casino.'

Landry was sweating, and fidgeting. He was starting to realize the position he was in.

‘You'll never get out of the building,' I said. ‘If you do, you'll never get out of Vegas.'

‘Goddamnit!' he said through gritted teeth. ‘This wasn't supposed to happen like this.'

The bartender had found a plastic bag, and had come out from behind the bar.

‘You still want me to collect the money?' he asked.

Nobody answered.

I had the feeling Landry wanted a way out. I figured if I could give it to him, I wouldn't get shot.

‘Landry.' He didn't hear me. He was looking inward at something only he could see. It was too far to make a grab for the gun, and the men at the table were too scared to do it.

‘Landry!'

This time he looked at me.

‘I have an idea.'

‘What?' he asked.

‘Put the gun down and walk out,' I said.

‘What?'

‘Just put it down and walk out. Go.'

Landry's eye flicked around the room.

‘I can do that?'

‘Sure,' I said.

‘You won't try to stop me?'

‘No,' I said. ‘But you have to go without the money. And you have to leave Vegas. Go back to LA.'

‘Back to work?'

‘If that's what you want,' I said. ‘Look, I'm trying to get all of us out of this room alive. That's what's important.'

He wiped his hand over his face. It was slick with perspiration.

‘Back to work,' he said, again.

‘That's what you really want to do, isn't it?' I asked. ‘Work? You don't want to rob anybody, do you?'

‘N-no.'

‘Then put the gun down on the table and walk out.'

‘OK,' he said, ‘OK.' He started to put the gun down, stopped, then reached again and finally put it down. I watched the men at the table. Nobody wanted to pick it up.

Landry circled the table, then stopped.

‘My money,' he said. ‘The money I bought in with.'

‘Pick it up at the cashier cage downstairs,' I said. ‘I think the quicker you leave this room the better, don't you?'

‘Yeah, sure,' he said. ‘I get it.'

He looked at the men at the table, the men on the floor, and walked out the door.

‘Jesus,' the bartender said.

‘Kendrick!' I said, leaning over the security man. ‘Wake up.'

‘What?'

‘Come on, get up,' I said, hauling him to his feet.

The two robbers were on the floor. One was still unconscious, the other was rocking back and forth, holding his burned face.

‘Keep an eye on them,' I said. Still kind of stunned, he drew his gun and pointed it.

I walked to the phone.

‘You really gonna let him leave Vegas?' Devlin asked.

‘Hell, no!' I said. ‘I'm gonna have his ass arrested when he gets to the cashier's cage downstairs.'

‘You really think he'll stop there?' Sam Temple asked.

‘Yeah,' I said, dialing Entratter's number, ‘I really do.'

‘Eddie,' Dan Roburt said, ‘you must be a helluva poker player, because you sure bluffed the shit outta him!'

W
hen I got home that night I sat on my sofa and shook for a while. What was I thinking, going after two men with guns – and then talking Landry out of his? Who did I think I was, Jerry Epstein? Well, my big Brooklyn buddy probably would have gone after the first two the way I did, but he never would have dealt with Landry the same way. He would have taken it away for sure, probably breaking Landry's arm at the same time.

Jack Entratter called me into his office the next day.

‘Are you crazy?' he demanded.

‘What are you talking about?'

‘You were there last night to keep the peace in the game,' Entratter said, ‘not to go up against three hoods.'

‘I don't know what I was thinking, but when I saw the security guy go down—'

‘The bartender told me that Kendrick opened the door, and you tried to stop him.'

‘That's true,' I said. ‘I thought we should check who it was, first.'

‘Well, at least that was good thinking,' Entratter said. ‘Look, all the players were very impressed with you. They said you saved the game, saved all the money and – oh yeah, by the way – might have saved some lives.'

‘I was an idiot.'

‘No argument there,' Entratter said. ‘I never said I pay you to get killed.'

‘What happened to the gunmen? And Landry?'

‘All under arrest,' Entratter said. ‘And I fired Kendrick.'

‘Can't say I'm sorry to hear that,' I said. ‘He was useless.'

‘That was quick thinking on your part, getting Landry to go to the cashier's cage.'

‘He wasn't thinking straight,' I said. ‘That was obvious. Who were the two guys with him?'

‘Just two mugs he convinced to try to pull the job,' Entratter said. ‘He promised 'em a cut.'

‘Hollywood must've really chewed him up and spat him out,' I said.

‘Looks that way,' Entratter said. ‘His last three pictures tanked at the box office. No studio will work with him, anymore.'

‘He shouldn't have come here to try and solve his problem.' I started to stand up. ‘I'm going back to my pit.'

‘Sit down,' Entratter said, ‘I wanna talk to you about that.'

‘About what?'

‘Your job.'

I froze halfway out of my seat.

‘Siddown, Eddie,' he said. ‘I'm not firin' you.'

I sat down, relieved.

‘But I am thinkin' about makin' a change.'

‘What kind of change?'

‘Somethin' that would free you up a little more for special jobs.'

‘Are you taking me out of the pit?'

‘Would that be so bad?' he asked.

‘Kinda.' I had always liked my job.

‘It seems like I need you more out of the pit than in it, these days,' Entratter said. ‘For instance, you know this poker movie Steve McQueen's doin' with Eddie Robinson?'

‘Yeah, they talked about it at the table last night.'

‘Well, I heard from Frank,' he said. ‘He'd like you to show Eddie around, and help him do some research into the poker playin' end of it.'

‘When?'

‘Later this week.'

‘I can do that,' I said. ‘I've never met him. That would be great.' Edward G. Robinson was one of the greatest actors of all time, as far as I was concerned. I wouldn't mind helping him research his role. ‘But what's that got to do with taking me out of the pit?'

‘I told you,' Jack said, ‘it's just something I've been thinkin' about. Maybe we could create a new job title for you. You know, somethin' like … a freelancer. Or a … host.'

‘Freelancer?' I said. ‘Would that be a promotion? With a raise?'

‘Well, I don't know,' Jack said. ‘I'm just wingin' it here, Eddie.'

‘Well, until you make up your mind can I go back to my pit?'

‘Sure,' Entratter said. ‘I'll confirm Robinson's arrival date and let you know.'

‘OK.'

I stood up and this time he didn't stop me.

‘Hey,' I said, ‘what's wrong with your girl?'

‘Whataya mean?'

‘When I walked in she didn't look like she wanted to spit,' I said. ‘In fact, she hardly looked at me at all.'

‘I don't know,' Entratter said. ‘She hasn't been herself lately. Might be that time of the month. She's doin' her job, though. That's all I care about.'

‘Well,' I said, ‘I'll go and do mine.'

Entratter waved me out and turned his attention to something on his desk.

When I got down to my pit I was only there an hour when one of the younger bell hops came over. His name tag said ‘Bobby' but I didn't need that to identify him. I remembered his baby face.

The slot machines around us were ‘dinging' as coins struck the coin trays and ladies screamed over their nickel hits. People nodded to me as they went by, some regular customers, others celebrities who came and went from month to month. On this night it was Jack Jones, who had completed his run at the Sands' Copa Room and was leaving the next day, and Steve & Eydie, who were coming in to replace him.