Fly Me to the Morgue (4 page)

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Authors: Robert J. Randisi

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BOOK: Fly Me to the Morgue
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‘You gonna do those like James Bond?'
He laughed.
‘Naw, I'm gonna be the anti-Bond,' he said.
He went on to talk about his daughter, Claudia. She wanted to be an actress, and Frank had been kind enough to give her a part in a film he was producing for his daughter, Nancy, through his film company. It was called
For Those Who Think Young
.
‘It's a beach movie with James Darren.'
‘Bikinis and sand, huh?'
‘You said it.'
I remembered meeting Nancy the year before. She was a good-looking young woman, and would probably do justice to a bikini. I didn't know about Dean's daughter, Claudia. I suddenly felt bad that I considered us to be friends, and I had never seen his daughter. Young Dino, yeah, he had come to Vegas a time or two, but Claudia . . .
‘How old is Claudia?' I asked.
‘Nineteen,' he said. ‘Old enough to be running around on screen in a bikini; or so I've been tellin' her mother. She's not so sure about it.'
I told Dean I'd make sure to see the film when it came out.
‘That's OK,' he said. ‘I'd just as soon you didn't see Claudia running around in a bikini.'
Seemed to me Dino wasn't so sure about this movie, either.
We had coffee and pie for dessert and we started to talk about Bing. I don‘t recall who brought him up. Maybe I did after mentioning being at Del Mar the year before.
‘It killed Bing to have to give up Del Mar,' Dean said, ‘but he had to cover the inheritance tax on Dixie Lee's estate when she died. He still owns some horses, though. Supposed to be lookin' at one while he's in Vegas.'
‘Where?'
Dean shrugged.
‘Red Rock Canyon, I think he said. He's supposed to be meetin' his trainer here.'
‘When?'
‘I'm not sure,' he said. ‘Probably after Frankie's opening night.'
‘How long are you stayin' in town?' I asked.
‘I'll probably leave after a couple of Frank Junior's shows,' he said, thoughtfully. ‘I'm just supposed to give him enough morale to last until Frank gets here himself.'
‘And when is that?'
‘A few days,' Dino said. ‘Closing night.'
‘I'm sure it'll give the kid a thrill to have his father in the audience.'
‘I told Frank I could stay that long. So I'll be around.' He finished his coffee, pushed away his empty pie plate. ‘He also wanted me to ask you if you'd look out for Frank Junior while he's here.'
If that was what Dean had been leading up to, it wasn't much to ask.
‘Sure,' I said. ‘No problem.'
‘Good. I told Frank I didn't want you to think I only came to town to ask for favors.'
‘I think we're past that, Dean,' I said. ‘We've had enough dinners together over the past few years that were just friendly dinners.'
‘Yeah, you're right,' he said.
Teaching me golf and inviting me to Del Mar, those were also acts of friendship. He hadn't asked me for anything either time.
Looking out for Frank Junior might not be as much fun as squiring Nancy around town might have been, but it wasn't a big deal.
SEVEN
Frank Junior put on a hell of a show the next night.
And he did it without singing more than two or three of his father's songs. He wanted to stand on his own two feet; I gave him credit for that.
After the show I was granted backstage access and found myself awash in celebrities. Not only Hope, Crosby and Dino, but Jack Benny, George Burns, Keely Smith and Louis Prima, Alan King.
‘Hey, Eddie, how ya doin'?' Somebody grabbed my arm. There was no mistaking that voice. I turned and looked into the cock-eyed face of Buddy Hackett, who was grinning at me.
‘Hey, Buddy!' He shook my hand enthusiastically. ‘Boy, Frank pulled out all the stops tonight, huh? Got all his friends to show up here.'
‘Most of 'em,' Buddy said. ‘The ones that aren't workin' somewhere themselves tonight. Like Sammy.'
‘What about Joey?'
‘He's in this mess, somewhere,' Buddy said. ‘You meet the kid yet?'
‘No,' I said, ‘and Frank asked me to look after him while he's in town.'
‘Well, if anybody can do that, it's you,' Buddy said. ‘Come on, let's find 'im.'
Buddy forged into the crowd, which parted for him, and I followed. With an unerring sense of direction he made his way right to Frank Junior, who looked for all the world like a young Frank Sinatra. Same shock of hair, same thin frame, same big smile. Not identical, but you could sure see the resemblance.
I met the young man quickly, but he was in demand, so we agreed to meet the next day and see what kind of trouble I could get him into.
He was carried away into the crowd and when I turned I was face-to-face with Joey Bishop.
‘Hey, Joe!'
‘Eddie!'
We shook hands, slapped each other's backs.
‘Been a while,' I said.
‘I'm still busy with my show,' he said, ‘but I couldn't miss this. I wouldn't want Frank putting a hit out on me.'
Only Joey Bishop could get away with making a remark like that.
‘I gotta find Buddy,' he said.
‘He's in here someplace,' I told him. ‘He just introduced me to Junior.'
‘He's a good kid. You gonna keep an eye on 'im?'
‘Best I can,' I said. ‘I'll show him Vegas.'
‘Frank'll appreciate it,' Joey said. ‘And he'll be here in a few days. Closing night, as a matter of fact.'
‘Yeah, I heard that from Dino,' I said. ‘That'll be a big night for Frank Junior.'
‘Maybe bigger than tonight,' Joey said.
I slapped Joey on the shoulder and sent him into the crowd to find Buddy.
‘Eddie!'
I turned to see who was calling me this time. It was Bing Crosby, with Kathryn alongside. She was stunning in a low-cut gown, showing smooth, pale cleavage, making Bing the envy of the room.
‘I've been wanting to talk to you, Eddie,' Bing said, ‘but it's too noisy here. Can we get together later? At the Sands?'
‘Sure, Bing,' I said. ‘How about the Silver Queen lounge?'
‘Great? In an hour?'
‘In an hour you'll be in bed, darling,' Kathryn told him.
‘Don't ever marry a younger woman, Eddie,' Bing told me. ‘She's always tryin' to get you to go to bed early. Even in Vegas!'
She slid her hand through his arm and he put his hand over hers.
‘Can we make it half an hour, Eddie?' he asked.
‘Sure, Bing,' I said. ‘I'm headin' back to the Sands now.'
‘Just let me take this lovely lady to our suite and I'll join you at the bar, post-haste.'
‘See you there.'
Bing and Kathryn melted into the crowd and I headed for the exit, wondering what was on Bing Crosby's mind.
I thought Dean might be able to fill me in, but I wasn't able to get close to him backstage at the Flamingo. So I went directly to the Silver Queen Lounge when I got to the Sands.
The bartenders in the lounge came and went like they were in a revolving door. This one's name was Ted. The same went for the waitresses, but I happened to know the one working the floor. She was a nifty little redhead named Didi, and she waved when she saw me and came trotting over. She had a taut little body, but trotting still made her breasts do interesting things.
‘Hi, Eddie.'
‘Hello, Didi. How're you doin'?'
‘I'm fine. What brings you in?'
‘I need a beer. Tryin' to get the new guy's attention.'
‘I'll get it for you,' she said, then lowered her voice. ‘He's a little slow.'
She went down the bar, spoke to the bartender, who drew a beer and set it on her tray. Then she carried it back to me.
‘I clued him in who you are,' she said. ‘He'll take better care of you, now.'
‘Maybe he'll take good care of me when my friend gets here,' I said.
‘Who's your friend?'
‘Bing Crosby.'
‘Really?' she asked. ‘You know Bing Crosby?'
‘I do.'
‘And he's comin' here tonight?'
‘In about ten minutes.'
‘Wow.'
‘Do you want to meet him?'
‘I wanna see him,' she said, ‘but I'd be too nervous to meet him.'
‘Come on, Didi,' I said, ‘everybody likes to meet stars. And stars like to meet pretty girls.'
‘Well, maybe,' she said.
‘You better make up your mind,' I said, ‘because he just walked in.'
EIGHT
Didi turned and caught her breath as Bing approached us.
‘Hey, Eddie,' he said, putting his hand out long before he got to me. ‘Thanks so much for meetin' me.'
‘Sure thing, Bing,' I said. ‘Oh, this is Didi. She's a big fan of yours.'
‘Didi,' Bing said. He took her hand and held it gently. ‘I'm always happy to meet a fan, especially one so pretty.'
‘Oh my God!' Didi said.
‘Didi,' I said, ‘say hello to Bing.'
He still held her right hand so she put her left hand over her mouth and said, ‘Oh my God!'
Bing threw me an amused look and released Didi's hand.
‘OK, Didi,' I said, ‘you've got some customers lookin' for you.'
Didi looked at me, then at Bing and said, ‘Oh my God.'
I grabbed her tray from the bar, handed it to her, then turned her around and patted her on the butt.
Bing got up on a stool and looked toward the bartender.
‘Drink?' I asked.
‘A cup of coffee, I think.' He took out his pipe and gestured to me. ‘Do you mind?'
‘No, go ahead.'
He got the pipe going and the bartender brought him a cup of coffee and served him as if he was Joe Blow from Kokomo on vacation in Sin City.
‘Frank Junior had a good show,' I said, as an icebreaker. Bing seemed to have settled into puffing on his pipe and gone away to a place all by himself.
‘Hmm? Oh, yeah,' Bing said. ‘He's got to develop, but he's got some talent. He has a lot to live up to, though, with Frank as a father. It's not easy, you know, being a famous father and trying to raise sons.'
He had sons of his own, but I didn't know anything about Bing Crosby as a father. Not then.
‘Well, maybe I should get to the point,' he said, finally. ‘My wife is waiting for me upstairs.'
‘OK.'
‘Aside from singing and my wife,' he said, ‘I have two loves. Golf and horses. You've seen me around both.'
I nodded.
‘One of the reasons I came to see Frankie's show was because I was also coming out here to look at a horse. I may not own Del Mar anymore, but I still like to own thoroughbreds.'
‘Dino mentioned something about Red Rock Canyon,' I offered, to help him along.
‘Yes, I'm supposed to go out to where this fella has a ranch.'
‘Is there a problem gettin' out there?' I asked. ‘Transportation? The Sands can provide . . . or I can drive you . . .'
‘I appreciate the offer, Eddie, but my problem is this: my trainer hasn't shown up. He was supposed to meet me here today. Then we were supposed to go out and look at the horse tomorrow.'
‘I see.' I didn't see, but I didn't know what else to say. ‘You want me to check around, see what I can find out?'
‘Actually, that wasn't what I was gonna ask, but maybe that would be a good idea. What I wanted to ask you was about your friend.'
‘My friend?'
‘The big fella who was with you at Del Mar last year.'
‘Jerry?'
He pointed with his pipe and said, ‘That's him.'
‘What about him?'
‘He seemed to know a lot about horses.'
‘I suppose.'
‘I mean, he picked winners, but he also went to the paddock to look them over. Seemed to me he knew what he was doin'.'
‘He did.'
‘Do you think he'd go with me to Red Rock to look at this horse? I always like to have a second opinion – a professional opinion.'
‘Jerry's not a professional, but I suppose he has a certain amount of expertise . . .'
‘Would you ask him for me?'
‘Well, sure, but he lives in New York, Bing.'
‘I'll fly him out,' Bing said. ‘That's no problem. If he says yes I can have a plane bring him here tomorrow. I'll cover all his expenses, too.'
I nodded and said, ‘I'll call him in the mornin'.'
‘Great! I appreciate it. And if you could find out something about my trainer . . . he was supposed to fly in this morning. I called him at home and there was no answer. Nobody at his barn seems to know where he is.'
I pulled a notepad from my pocket and asked, ‘What's his name?'
‘Fred Stanley. Also goes by the name of ‘Red'. Don't know why. There's nothin' red about him.'
He gave me his address in San Diego, phone number, and the same information for his barn.
He got down off his stool then and said, ‘Goodnight, Eddie. I appreciate your help with this.'
‘That's OK, Bing. That's what I'm here for. The Sands does its best for its guests.'
‘No,' Bing said, gripping my arm and shaking my hand, ‘I'm gonna consider this a personal favor from a friend, if you don't mind.'

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