Fly Me to the Morgue (9 page)

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Authors: Robert J. Randisi

Tags: #Suspense

BOOK: Fly Me to the Morgue
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‘Maybe,' Danny said. ‘Did you see which way the sedan went?'
‘It just pulled away from the curb and kept going.'
‘Toward town?'
‘That's what it looked like.'
Danny handed the man a fiver and said, ‘Thanks. Could you pass the word to other drivers? Maybe somebody saw the sedan arrive at its destination, saw the two men get out? Funny lookin' little guy with big ears? Fiver in it for them, too.'
‘I'll pass the word,' the driver said. ‘You ain't a cop, are ya? You're private.'
‘That's right.'
‘I'll pass the word.'
‘If I get somethin' today, there'll be a ten in it for them and for you.'
‘Right, boss.'
Danny gave the cab driver his number, then drove to his office to tell Penny not to leave.
‘We've got cab drivers all over the city lookin' for this guy,' he told her. ‘If he went to a hotel – willingly or unwillingly – we'll find out.'
‘You think he was taken?'
‘Yeah,' he said. ‘The Sands didn't send a car for him. And he's a stranger in town. The only reason he wouldn't take a cab is if he couldn't.'
‘What if he's a regular at one of the other casinos and they sent a car for him? Do you know for certain he's a stranger to Vegas?'
Danny stared at Penny and said, ‘Shut up.'
She laughed.
‘You didn't think of that?'
‘I thought of it,' he said. ‘If he gets dropped at another casino some cab driver there will see him.'
‘So what are you going to do in the meantime?' she asked.
‘Paperwork,' he said. ‘I want lunch at my desk.'
‘The usual?'
‘Yes.'
TWENTY
Danny was at his desk eating his usual lunch – a burger platter from the Horseshoe Coffee Shop – when the phone rang.
‘This Danny Bardini?' a voice asked.
‘That's right.' Stupid question, he thought. Penny would have already told the caller that this was the office of Bardini Investigations.
‘Yeah, this is Frankie? The cab driver you talked to at the airport, this morning?'
‘Yeah, Frankie, whataya got?'
‘One of my drivers saw your guy.'
‘Where?'
‘Ten for me and ten for him, right?'
‘Right.'
‘If this is the right guy, could you make it twenty?' the driver asked.
‘For you or for him?'
‘Well, me.'
‘Let's see if it pans out.'
‘OK. My guy saw him gettin' out of a dark sedan in front of the Hotel Raleigh. You know where that is?'
‘I do,' Danny said. It was a rundown hotel in a seedy part of town. This didn't bode well.
‘I'll get back to you, Frankie.'
‘Twenty would be a big help,' Frankie said.
Danny hung up.
When he passed through the outer office Penny said, ‘Are you going down there?'
‘Yes,' he said, on the way to the door.
‘Alone?'
‘Yes.'
‘Without backup?'
He stopped, turned and looked at her. ‘You want me to give you a forty-five and let you come with me?'
‘Would you?' she asked, excited.
‘No,' he said. ‘Stay by the phone.'
When Danny got to the Hotel Raleigh it was even worse than he remembered. There was a homeless guy out front, a drunk sleeping on the steps. There were two more guys sleeping in the lobby, and one of them was the desk clerk.
‘Hey!'
The guy's head jerked up off the desk.
‘Welcome to the Hotel Raleigh,' he mumbled. ‘Can I get you a room?'
‘Jesus, no,' Danny said. ‘I'm lookin' for a man who was brought here by a dark sedan. Short, thick, big ears—'
‘No, man—'
‘Don't interrupt me!' Danny snapped. ‘We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way you make five bucks. The hard way costs you more than five bucks' worth of dental work.'
‘Take it easy, man,' the young clerk said, leaning back.
‘Which way you wanna go?'
The clerk reached behind him, taking a key off the wall.
‘Upstairs, room five, man.'
Danny took the key, then pointed his finger at the clerk.
‘You call ahead and I'll come down and provide that dental work. Get me?'
‘I gotcha, man.'
‘Go back to sleep,' Danny told him. ‘It's safer.'
He went up the stairs and down the hall to room five. He listened at the door, heard nothing. He knocked. Still nothing. Then he used the key and opened the door . . .
‘. . . and there he was, lyin' on the bed,' Danny said. ‘The sheets were a bloody mess.'
‘Shot? Stabbed?'
Danny shook his head and said, ‘Beaten.'
‘Damn.'
‘Why?'
‘Arnold was beaten, too.'
‘You're thinkin' the same person killed them both?' he asked.
‘We don't know who was killed first, right?' I asked. ‘We don't even know if Arnold was killed yesterday or today. So we don't know if one person could've done it.'
‘I can get the autopsy results from the coroner here in Vegas,' Danny said. ‘The county might be a little harder.'
‘How did it go with the police?'
‘Two detectives from Homicide responded.'
‘Hargrove?'
‘Not this time.'
‘Well, that's good,' I said. ‘We won't have to deal with his . . .'
‘Prejudices?'
‘Yeah, I guess that's the word.'
‘What's gonna happen when the Sheriff's detectives look up your history? And Jerry's?'
‘They'll probably want to talk to us both again,' I said. ‘We'll deal with that when the time comes. Right now, we need to figure out what's goin' on.'
‘Why?'
‘What do you mean?'
‘Why do we need to figure it out?' Danny asked. ‘Let the county dicks work on the Arnold murder and the city dicks work on Stanley's murder. Why do we have to be involved, at all?'
I opened my mouth to answer then realized he was right. Did we really have to get involved, at all?
‘I better talk to Bing,' I said. ‘He'll want to know about Stanley's death.'
‘Can I come?'
‘Sure, why not?' I said. ‘After all, you found him. But I better call and ask.'
I asked the bartender for a phone and called Bing's room. We talked for a few seconds.
‘Well?' Danny asked.
‘He said to come right up,' I said, getting off my stool. ‘Both of us.'
TWENTY-ONE
When we knocked on the door Bing answered.
‘Come on in, boys,' he said, backing away. ‘Katy's out getting her hair done.'
‘Have you told her—' I started to ask.
‘Not yet,' he said. ‘I thought I'd . . . wait. For what, I don't know. A better time?'
‘What'd you tell her about the horse?'
‘That I was thinking about it.'
‘Bing, this is Danny Bardini, the private detective I told you about.'
They shook hands.
‘Did you find Red Stanley?' Bing asked him.
‘I did, Mr Crosby,' Danny said. ‘He's dead.'
Bing looked shocked, then said, ‘Damn. You fellas want a drink? I'm gonna have one.'
‘Sure,' Danny said.
‘Bourbon,' I said.
‘All around,' Bing said, and poured out three bourbons.
We sat at the bar, with him behind it.
‘So what do we do now?' he asked.
‘We were just talkin' about that downstairs in the bar,' I said.
‘What did you come up with?' Bing asked.
‘Well, the police in both jurisdictions are workin' on the murders,' Danny said. ‘Do we need to do anything?'
Bing looked at me and I shrugged.
‘The cops are still gonna come lookin' for us, aren't they?' Bing asked. ‘To question us some more?'
‘Yes,' I said, ‘but they'll have to make the connection between Arnold and Stanley.'
‘I'm the connection,' Bing reminded us. ‘The detectives from this morning already know about Red Stanley.'
‘He's right,' I said to Danny. ‘He had to tell them why he was there.'
‘Then unless Mr Crosby—'
‘Just Bing, Danny.'
Danny smiled at Bing and said, ‘If Bing doesn't tell them that Red Stanley is dead, they're gonna wanna know why.'
‘Then I better call them,' Bing said. ‘That one detective, Lewis, gave me his number.'
‘OK,' I said. ‘Call him. Tell him you just found out that your trainer is dead.'
‘They'll wanna know how he found out,' Danny said.
‘He can tell them you told him,' I said.
‘Then do we tell them that you hired me on Bing's behalf to look for him? Or should we just say that Bing hired me and keep you and Jerry out of it?'
The three of us were staring at each other, trying to figure out the best course of action, when the phone rang.
‘Hello?' Bing said. ‘Oh, really? Well, yes, I suppose you'd better. Thank you.' He hung up.
‘What?' I asked.
‘I think the question just got answered for us,' he said. ‘That was the front desk. They said the police are here to talk to me. They asked if they should let them come up.'
‘And you said yes,' Danny said.
Bing nodded.
‘OK,' I said, ‘look, none of us has done anything wrong. Why should we be worried about talking to the police?'
‘What about Jerry?' Danny asked.
‘Jerry doesn't have to be here,' I said. ‘He had nothing to do with Red Stanley. All he did was ride out to that ranch with Bing to look at a horse.'
‘Right,' Bing said.
‘So there aren't even any questions we have to avoid,' Danny said.
‘Is this an unusual situation for you two boys to be in?' Bing asked.
‘Actually,' I said, ‘it is.'
TWENTY-TWO
I'm not a hood, or a member of the Mafia; although Detective Hargrove of the Las Vegas Police would probably argue against it. Still, I have, on occasion, had to lie to the police.
In Danny's job he has to lie to the cops, a lot.
On this day, neither one of us had to lie.
So yeah, it was kind of unusual when Bing let the detectives in that we were able to relax and tell the truth.
They introduced themselves as Detectives Freeman and Moore.
‘Mr Crosby, we're here about a man named Fred Stanley. I believe you know him as Red?'
‘Yes,' Bing said. ‘And I also know that he's dead.'
‘Yes,' Freeman said. He looked at Danny. ‘I assumed that when I saw Mr Bardini here.'
Freeman had a Marine crew cut, and the bearing of a military man. He was respectful enough to all of us that I thought he had probably been an officer.
Moore was silent, but I got a feeling of impatience from him. Like he didn't want to be as polite as his partner when he saw Danny there.
‘And who are you?' Freeman asked me.
‘My name's Eddie Gianelli,' I said. ‘I'm a pit boss in the casino.'
‘And you're here because . . . ?'
‘He's a friend of mine,' Bing said. ‘He was helping me try to find my trainer by introducing me to Mr Bardini. Also, he drove me out to meet with the man my trainer and I were supposed to see about buying a horse.'
‘A horse?' Moore asked.
‘A race horse,' Bing said.
‘Let me see if I understand this,' Freeman said. ‘You called Mr Gianelli when your trainer didn't show up.' He looked at me. ‘You, then, called Mr Bardini and put him together with Mr Crosby.' He looked at Bing. ‘You, then, hired Mr Bardini to try to find out what happened to your trainer, Mr Stanley.'
That wasn't exactly the right progression, but Bing said, ‘That's right.'
‘It didn't occur to you to call the police?'
Bing spread his hands. ‘For all I knew Fred Stanley decided not to make the trip. When I couldn't get him on the phone, I asked Danny to find him for me. If he hadn't found him, then I would have called the police.'
‘So you found him in that hotel, dead,' Moore said to Danny.
‘And called the police right away.'
‘How did you find him?' Moore asked.
‘Legwork.'
‘That's it?'
‘Good detective work,' Danny said. ‘Contacts.'
‘Mr Gianelli,' Freeman said, ‘we don't need to talk to you, so you can leave. And Mr Bardini, we've already talked with you, so there's no need for you to stay. We just need to interview Mr Crosby.'
‘I'd like them to stay,' Bing said.
Freeman looked at Bing curiously.
‘And why is that?'
‘Well . . . something happened when Eddie and I drove out to Red Rock Canyon.'
‘Red Rock,' Moore said. ‘That's where the guy with the race horse was?'
‘Yes.'
‘And you went without your trainer?'
‘I did.'
‘But with this guy,' Moore said, indicating me. His lack of respect was starting to show. Maybe he was getting frustrated. He was about to become even more frustrated.
‘So why is that important?' Moore asked.
Bing looked at me.

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