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Authors: Robert J. Randisi

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BOOK: Fly Me to the Morgue
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‘Well, do me a favor,' I said. ‘Don't tell that to Bing.'
TWELVE
When we got to the Sands we parked and I walked Jerry to his suite. It was identical to the ones Dino always stayed in.
‘Wow,' he said.
‘This is how the other half lives. Why don't you put your stuff in the bedroom and I'll call Bing.'
‘Sure thing, Mr G.'
I picked up the phone and dialed Bing's room. Kathryn answered.
‘Oh, hello, Eddie,' she purred. ‘Bing is over at the Flamingo. He's helping Frank Junior with some arrangements.'
‘The kid must be thrilled.'
‘That kid's father is Frank Sinatra,' she said, laughing.
‘Kathryn,' I said, ‘Frank himself would be thrilled to have Bing's help.'
‘That's a very nice thing for you to say, Eddie,' she answered.
‘Listen, I was, uh, doin' somethin' for Bing—'
‘I know about Bing and Red Rock Canyon, Eddie, and what he asked you to do.'
‘Well, Jerry's here, in the hotel,' I said. ‘He's ready to see Bing whenever he's ready.'
‘Bing should be back within the hour. Why don't you and Jerry just come up in an hour?'
‘Both of us?'
‘Well, of course. We'll have drinks.'
‘OK.'
‘Make it an hour and a half, Eddie,' she said. ‘I look forward to seeing you both.'
‘Thank you, Kathryn.'
As she hung up, Jerry came walking back into the room.
‘We're gonna go to Bing's room in an hour and a half,' I said. ‘I just spoke to Kathryn.'
‘His wife?'
‘Yeah.'
‘She's gonna be there?'
‘Yes,' I said. ‘She said we'll have drinks.'
‘Drinks?' he asked. ‘With Bing Crosby and his wife?'
‘That's right.'
‘Mr G.,' he said, anxiously, ‘I don't got nothin' to wear.'
‘That's OK,' I said. ‘Let's go downstairs and do some shopping.'
An hour and forty minutes later we were at the door of Bing Crosby's suite. Jerry was wearing a sports jacket and pants we bought at a big and tall store. He had combed his hair a couple of times, and was feeling nervous.
In fact he said, ‘I ain't been this nervous since I met Miss Ava last year.'
‘You didn't seem nervous then.'
‘I was shakin' inside.'
‘Well, then, just keep it inside this time, too.'
I knocked and the door was opened by Kathryn Crosby. She was wearing a peach-colored silk blouse, white hip-hugging pants and open-toed sandals with just enough heel.
‘Eddie,' she said. ‘And Jerry. So nice to see you again.'
‘Yes, Ma'am,' Jerry said, ducking his head.
‘Well come in, both of you,' she said. ‘I'll make the drinks. Bing will be out in a minute.'
She walked to the bar and situated herself behind it. We entered and closed the door behind us.
‘What can I get you?' she asked.
‘Uh, bourbon,' I said.
‘Do you have beer?' Jerry asked.
‘Yes, we do.' She held up a shaker. ‘But I made martinis.'
‘I'll have one, then,' I said.
‘Uh, just beer for me, if that's all right,' Jerry said.
‘It's fine, Jerry,' she said, with a smile.
Kathryn Crosby was not yet thirty, and had possibly the most beautiful skin I'd ever seen, pale and smooth. She almost glowed.
‘Well, there are my boys,' Bing said, entering the room. He wore grey trousers and an open-necked polo short. He came right up to us with his hand out, shook with both of us.
‘It's nice to see you again, Jerry.'
‘Yes, sir, same here.'
‘Oh, don't start callin' me sir,' Bing said. ‘We're gonna be workin' together. Just call me Bing.'
‘Um—'
‘Oh that's right, I forgot,' he said. ‘OK, then Mr C. it is, right?'
‘Yes si—yes, Mr C.'
‘As long as Como doesn't show up we won't get confused,' he said.
He walked to the bar and kissed his wife on the cheek. She handed him a martini, then held one out to me. She put a can of Piels on the bar for Jerry. Then picked up her martini and sipped it.
‘You gentlemen have business,' she said. ‘I'm going to sit on the sofa and keep quiet.'
This time she kissed Bing on the cheek, and went to the sofa.
‘Jerry, my man,' Bing said. ‘You know horses, don't you?'
‘Yes, si—yeah, I do.'
‘And I mean, you don't only know how to play them, but you know the animals.'
‘Yes.'
‘How?' Bing asked.
‘Huh?'
‘Why do you know about horses?'
‘Because I bet money on them,' Jerry said. ‘I don't bet my money unless I know what I'm doin'. So when I decided I liked betting the horses, but I liked winnin' better, I got to know horses.'
‘Humor me,' Bing said, ‘but I'd still like to know how?'
‘I went to work for a trainer,' Jerry said.
‘As what?'
‘I did a little bit of everything,' Jerry said. ‘I mucked stalls, I was a hotwalker . . . I did everything but be a jockey.'
Kathryn laughed at that.
‘So you know horseflesh.'
‘I do.'
Bing looked at me.
‘Have you been able to find out anything about Stanley?'
‘He did fly into Vegas. He just never made it from the airport to here. I've got a friend of mine checkin' it out.'
‘OK,' Bing said. He looked back at Jerry. ‘There's a guy out in Red Rock Canyon who's got a horse to sell. I wanna go out and take a look at it. My trainer was supposed to tell me whether or not the horse would be a good buy. Do you think you could do that for me?'
‘Well,' Jerry said, ‘I ain't a trainer, but I can give ya my opinion.'
‘And I would value that opinion,' Bing said, ‘because I've seen what you can do at the track.' He turned to Kathryn. ‘Remember how this man picked so many winners.'
‘I sure do,' she said. ‘Maybe he can come to the track with us another time.'
Bing looked at Jerry.
‘Whataya say? Would you like to do that again?'
‘Del Mar?' Jerry asked.
‘Del Mar, Santa Anita, Hollywood Park, wherever you wanna go.'
‘That sounds great,' Jerry said.
‘OK,' Bing said. ‘So we'll drive out to Red Rock Canyon tomorrow mornin', huh? I've got the address.'
‘Whatever you say.'
‘Let's meet in the lobby,' Bing said. Then he looked at me. ‘Eddie?'
‘You want me to come, too?'
‘Why not?' Bing asked. ‘You interested?'
‘Sure I'm interested.'
‘Should I rent a car?' Bing asked. ‘Get a limo?'
‘Mr G.'s got a sweet Caddy,' Jerry said. ‘I can drive it.'
‘A Caddy, huh?' Bing asked.
‘Fifty-three,' Jerry said.
‘OK,' Bing said. ‘The Caddy it is. Let's meet in the lobby at eight a.m.'
‘Bing, make it nine,' Kathryn said. ‘You need more sleep than that.'
Bing gestured toward his wife and said, ‘I usually listen to my wife, guys. So how about nine?'
‘Nine's good,' Jerry said.
‘Nine it is,' I said.
We drank up, and then left Bing and Kathryn to their day.
Bing walked us to the door and said, ‘We're gonna go and have a look at Lake Mead.'
‘Enjoy it,' I said.
Out in the hall Jerry said to me, ‘Lake Mead? That a new casino?'
I laughed, because after all this time, I knew Jerry wasn't as dumb as he made out. But he was funny.
THIRTEEN
I left Jerry at the Sands. He had the rest of the afternoon to do whatever he wanted. I figured he'd be in the Book, playing the horses.
I wanted to drive home, make some calls, and change my clothes, so I told him I'd come back and we'd go out to dinner.
When I got home I called Danny's office.
‘He's out, Eddie,' Penny said. ‘Says he's working on your case.'
‘OK, sweetie,' I said. ‘Just tell him I called. He can reach me at the Sands, leave a message there if I'm out.'
‘OK, doll.'
I blew her a kiss and hung up.
I got back to the Sands; Jerry was in his suite, watching TV when I called up there.
‘What are you doin'?' I asked as I walked in. ‘I thought you'd be playin' horses.'
‘I tol' ya,' Jerry said. ‘I'm in a slump.'
‘So you've been watchn' TV?'
‘Westerns,' he said, nodding. ‘Jimmy Stewart. You know him?'
‘Never met him.'
‘I thought you knew everybody?'
‘Everybody who comes to Vegas to gamble.'
Jerry stood up. Turned off the TV and asked, ‘Where we goin' to eat?'
‘Italian?'
‘Sounds good to me.'
‘Then let's go.'
Since I knew where we were going I got to drive my own car. I took Jerry to an Italian place off the strip that Frank Sinatra really liked. He ordered a huge plate of spaghetti and meatballs to go with a plate of chicken parmagiana. I went for some veal picata. We split a bottle of red wine, but also had some beer.
Jerry told me some of what he'd been doing the past few months since we'd seen each other. Most of it he edited for content, and some of it he didn't tell me at all. He was, after all, a legbreaker for the mob.
‘What about your personal life?' I asked.
‘What personal life?'
‘You know what I mean. Women.'
‘Mr G., come on. You know me and women don't mix, unless they're strippers or whores.'
‘Jerry,' I said, ‘I don't see why you can't find a nice girl—'
‘Nice?'
‘OK,' I said, ‘a girl, period. One who's not a whore or a stripper. Look, I've seen you interact with women—'
‘You seen me stumble over my tongue with Miss M. and Miss Ava,' he said, referring to Marilyn Monroe and Ava Gardner. ‘And now with Mr C.'s wife.'
‘OK,' I said, ‘but those are famous women. What about Penny? You got along with her when you met?'
‘She don't count, Mr G.,' he said. ‘She's the Vegas Gumshoe's girl.'
Jerry's nicknames for Danny were piling up. That's how I knew he liked him.
The waiter came with another basket of Italian bread and Jerry asked for a small bowl of meat sauce. When it came he soaked his bread in it and chewed thoughtfully. He was thinking about what to have for dessert.
After dinner I let Jerry drive back, and he tried to tit me for my tat.
‘What about you, Mr G?'
‘What about me?'
‘Any women?'
‘Nobody steady.'
‘Waitresses, showgirls?' he asked. ‘You're not so different from me, you know, Mr G. You spend your time with women you meet on the job, like I do.'
Unfortunately, he was right.
‘Anybody lately?' he asked.
‘Well, there's this little readhead in the lounge, but we've only been together once.'
‘Good for you, Mr G.'
When we pulled up in the Sands' parking lot I asked, ‘Wanna hit some casinos?'
‘When I was watchin' TV this afternoon I saw a commercial for the movie tonight. I think I wanna watch it.'
‘What is it?'
‘Jimmy Cagney.' He held up two sausage-like fingers. ‘Two of 'em.'
‘Can't compete with that.'
‘I'm gonna get some popcorn,' he said. ‘You wanna watch?'
‘No thanks,' I said. ‘I still need to talk to Danny, and then I think I'll check in with my pit.'
‘You can't stay off the floor, can you, Mr G?' he asked. ‘Even when you're supposed to be off.'
‘What can I tell you?' I said. ‘It's home away from home.'
He looked at me across the car and said, ‘I wish I had one of those. I just got home, and work.'
‘Hey,' I said, ‘you can have Vegas as your home away from home. It's my gift to you.'
He looked genuinely touched by what I meant to be a flip remark.
‘Gee, thanks, Mr G.'
‘Come on,' I said. ‘I know a place you can get some popcorn, even though it's late.'
‘Regular and caramel?' he asked.
I grinned and said, ‘You got it, big boy.'
FOURTEEN
The lack of an office never kept me from getting or making phone calls in the Sands. Sometimes I used some of the office phones on the second floor. Other times – like now – I just checked with the front desk to see if I had any messages.
‘Yes, sir,' the young man on the desk said. ‘Right here.' He passed me two message slips.
‘You're new, right?' I asked him.
‘Yes, sir. My name's Chris.'
‘OK, thanks, Chris.'
‘Yessir.'
Both slips were from Danny. I went to the front desk to use a phone and dialed his apartment.
‘Hey, Danny,' I said, when he answered. ‘You alone?'
‘Unfortunately. I'm gettin' ready to watch some Cagney movies on TV.'
‘You and Jerry both,' I said.
‘Thanks,' he said, ‘now I'm really depressed.'
‘What'd you find out for me?'
BOOK: Fly Me to the Morgue
11.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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