I'm a Fool to Kill You (22 page)

‘I never thought you would, Mr G.,' he said.

‘OK,' I said, ‘so I'm gonna drive back now, and I'll return tomorrow.'

‘If you're not in jail,' Ava said.

‘I won't be in jail.'

‘If you are,' she said, ‘it'll be my fault.'

We were sitting on the deck, staring out at the darkening sky.

‘I leave now I can make most of the drive before it gets dark,' I said. I handed my wine glass to Jerry.

Ava stood up abruptly, set her glass down, and put her arms around me. Once again, what could have been a sexual situation was really just a warm one.

‘Be careful.'

‘I will.' I hugged her back. ‘Look after the big guy.'

‘I will.' She let me go and stepped back. ‘Call if you're not in jail.'

I smiled.

‘See ya, big guy.'

‘Mr G?'

‘Yeah?'

‘You got Miss Ava's gun on ya?'

‘I do.'

‘Don't take it into the police station with you.'

‘Thanks for reminding me,' I said. It was so light in my pocket that I might have done just that.

I drove to the police station on West Russell, just off Las Vegas Boulevard. Inside I asked for Detective Hargrove. When the desk Sergeant asked me my name I gave it to him, half expecting to be handcuffed moments later and dragged to the floor. Instead he said, ‘Wait here.'

Moments later Hargrove's partner of the month came out. I recognized him from the casino. He was young, white and polite.

‘This way, Mr Gianelli,' he said. ‘My name is Detective Holman.'

‘Really?' I asked.

‘I'm afraid so,' he said.

I followed him to an interview room where, I knew from experience, Hargrove would let me cool my heels for up to an hour.

‘Detective Hargrove will be with you in a minute.'

‘Yeah, sure,' I said. ‘Tell him to bring coffee, black, no sugar.'

Holman nodded and backed out.

Fifty minutes later Hargrove came walking in. To my surprise he had two cups of coffee with him. To my further surprise, he pushed one across the table to me.

‘Black, no sugar.'

‘Thanks.'

He sat down across from me.

‘What's this about, Hargrove?' I asked. ‘It's been awhile since you came lookin' for me.'

‘I know,' he said. ‘You been keepin' your nose clean, huh?'

I shrugged.

‘I've pretty much been bein' myself.'

‘Which, to me, is enough reason to throw you in jail,' Hargrove said.

‘Luckily, you need more than that,' I said. ‘You need evidence that I did something illegal.'

‘You're right, I do.'

‘Do you have it?'

‘I have some questions.'

‘About what?'

He sat back in his chair. I sipped the coffee. It was hot, and toxic. I put it down on the table. Maybe he was trying poison so he wouldn't have to figure out how to jail me.

‘I've got two dead wise guys from Chicago on my hands,' he said. ‘What do you know about them?'

‘Dead? How?'

‘Shot,' he said. ‘In the front seat of their car, with a .45'

‘How do you know who they were?'

‘We found the hotel they were stayin' in,' Hargrove said. ‘Their registration card said Chicago. We found their guns on the roof of their car, more in their room, and their names. Checked them out with Chicago P.D. Wise guys.'

‘Workin' for who?' I asked.

‘Whoever has the money to hire them, apparently.'

‘Did you ask Jack Entratter about them?'

‘No,' Hargrove said, ‘I wanted to talk to you first.'

I'd been trying for a couple of years to convince Hargrove that I was no wise guy just because I worked for the Sands casino.

‘Why me?'

‘Because of where we found them.'

‘Where?'

‘The same place you and your big friend found a body in a dumpster a couple of years ago, when your buddies were here makin'
Ocean's Eleven
.'

‘And you think that's enough of a reason to try to connect me to this? That's not evidence, Detective.'

Now he leaned forward.

‘You're at the top of my list, Eddie, for whenever somethin' happens in this town that concerns the mob, the boys, whatever you want to call them. This was enough for me to want to ask you some questions.'

‘And that's it? That's all you've got to?'

‘No, I've got one more thing,' he said.

‘What's that?'

‘I checked on your buddy, Jerry Epstein, in Brooklyn. He's not there. You got any idea where he is?'

‘No,' I said, without hesitation, ‘I have no idea, at all.'

Hargrove sat back again.

‘And why don't I believe you?'

SIXTY-ONE

‘
L
ook, Hargrove,' I said, ‘I know you think I'm up to my ears in the Mafia, but I'm just a pit boss at the Sands who does favors for some famous clients.'

‘Yeah,' he said, ‘and I'm Sherlock Holmes.'

‘I don't know anything about two button men from Chicago gettin' wasted in Vegas,' I said. ‘That stuff's not part of my life.'

‘Yeah,' he said, ‘you and dead bodies, you just happen to fall over each other. I'm trackin' your buddy through the airlines. When I find out that he's here, I'll be lookin' for you again – and him. So don't make me look too hard.'

‘Am I done here?' I asked, standing up.

‘Yeah, you're done. Stay in town. Stay available.'

‘Look,' I said, ‘I can just about guarantee that you're not gonna find that Jerry Epstein flew here from New York.'

‘Why?' Hargrove asked. ‘Did he drive?'

That was too close to the truth and I'd already told enough lies.

‘Next time you want to talk to me, you better do it through Jack Entratter's lawyer.'

‘Yeah, hide behind your hood boss and tell me you're not mobbed up, Eddie.'

‘Fuck you, Hargrove,' I said, and got out of there before he could decide to toss me in a cell just to be a dick.

I didn't want to go to my house just in case somebody was watchin' it – cop or otherwise. I drove to the Sands and went up to Entratter's office. It was after hours and his girl was gone, so I sat at her desk and used the phone to call Jerry. I told him about my conversation with Hargrove.

‘He's tryin' to track you through the airline, Jerry,' I said. ‘Eventually he'll find out you flew to L.A. And from there it's no big leap for him to figure you drove here, even for a lunkhead like him.'

‘It don't matter, Mr G.,' Jerry said. ‘He can't prove it, and he don't know that you was in L.A.'

‘You're right,' I said – I hoped. ‘How's Ava?'

‘Beatin' me at gin again – and one of her movies is on TV later, so we're gonna watch it.'

‘Which one?'

‘
The Killers
.'

That was the one based on a Hemingway short story, with Burt Lancaster. Her hair was long and luxurious in that film and she looked amazing. That was also when she became friends with the writer.

‘Wait – what?' he said to Ava. ‘Oh, she wants ta know if you're comin' back tonight.'

‘I don't think so,' I said. ‘Jerry, did you make some calls to Chicago?'

‘Yeah, Mr G., but I got no answers yet. I should be gettin' some answers tomorrow.'

I didn't think there was any danger in his making those calls from Tony's cabin, so I didn't protest.

‘Since those two guys were from Chicago, somebody should know somethin', right?'

‘Don't worry, Mr G.,' he said.

‘OK. I'm gonna stick around the Sands tonight, but I'll be out there tomorrow.'

‘See ya then. And watch your back.'

‘I think I'm starting to get pretty good at that, Jerry.'

I called Jack Entratter's suite next.

‘Where the hell are you now?' he asked.

‘In your office,' I said. ‘I just got back from talkin' to Hargrove.'

‘What the hell does he want?'

‘He didn't tell you?'

‘No, all he said was that he wanted to talk to you.'

‘Well, he'll probably talk to you next.'

‘About what?'

I told him how two guys from Chicago had been killed in their car, and why Hargrove was trying to connect me to the killings.

‘That sounds like a half-ass reason to suspect you of murder,' he said. ‘And he doesn't even know that Jerry's in Vegas?'

‘No. He's gonna track him to L.A., but the trail will stop there.'

‘Eddie,' Entratter said, ‘you and Jerry didn't have anythin' to do – no, wait, don't tell me. If you don't tell me then I won't be lyin' to Hargrove when I tell him I don't know nothin'.'

I didn't comment. I didn't really want to lie to Jack, either.

‘You got Ava stashed someplace safe, right?' he asked.

‘Yeah, with Jerry. And I'll be there tomorrow.'

‘You want me to make some calls to Chicago?'

‘Jerry's makin' calls, but it wouldn't hurt if you did too.'

‘My calls will be a little further up the food chain,' Entratter said. ‘Where can I get in touch with you?'

‘I'll call you tomorrow,' I said. ‘How about one?'

‘I'll be at my desk,' he said. ‘Watch your ass, Eddie. Hargrove's had a hard-on for you for a couple of years now.'

‘Don't I know it.'

I hung up, remained seated at the desk. With Jerry and Entratter both calling Chicago we should have word soon on who sent the two goons to Vegas. Once we knew that, we should also know who was after Ava. What we still had to find out was why.

I started to get up, then slapped my forehead. I hadn't checked with Penny to find out if she'd heard from Danny. But at this time of night? And if he had tried to get me during the day, I had no idea who to check with about a message. Just on the off chance, though, I called the front desk of the hotel and asked if there were any messages for me. The clerk on duty said he didn't see anything.

I left the office and went up to the room I used when I slept at the Sands. As soon as I walked in I stepped on something and looked down. It was a pink message slip. I closed the door and picked it up. It was from the front desk, which explained why the clerk hadn't known about it. It had already been delivered.

I sat down on the bed and unfolded it, figuring it was from Danny. It wasn't. It read: ‘You ain't out of the woods yet, Eddie.'

It wasn't signed.

SIXTY-TWO

I
slept fitfully. I didn't like the idea that someone knew which door to slide a message underneath – a threatening one at that. I probably should have changed rooms, but I was tired – so tired.

I got up early the next morning, had breakfast in the coffee shop, then went to the front desk.

Sean was working and I asked him about the message.

‘I swear, Eddie, it wasn't me. I didn't take a message, or slide one under your door.'

‘OK, then somebody grabbed a sheet of your paper,' I said. ‘Who? Did you see anyone hangin' around the desk yesterday?'

He thought a moment, said, ‘No, not really.'

‘OK, what do you mean “not really”?'

‘Well, there was somebody hangin' around the desk, but he wasn't suspicious.'

‘Why not?'

‘Because he was flirting with Rose.'

We both looked over at Rose, a stunning blonde who worked behind the desk and had a jealous husband. Who wouldn't flirt with her? And what better ruse to not seem suspicious, waiting for your chance to grab a slip?

‘You can ask her about him, but I know for a fact that she never remembers guys who flirt with her. She puts them out of her mind.'

‘I'll ask her anyway,' I said. ‘Maybe there was something memorable about this one.'

‘There
was
something memorable about him,' Rose said, moments later.

‘What was it?'

‘He was a creep,' she said. ‘He wasn't charming at all. He was smarmy and made me feel dirty.'

‘Why didn't you have him tossed out?'

She lowered her eyes.

‘I can't have every man who flirts with me thrown out, Eddie,' she said.

‘No,' I said, ‘we wouldn't have any men in the place. Can you tell me what he looked like?'

‘I guess some women would think he was good-looking. He had strong features, an almost hawk-like nose, slicked back black hair – oh, and he had a pinky ring on, with a big diamond. I think I was supposed to be impressed.'

‘OK, Rose. Thanks.'

‘Have I gotten myself in trouble, Eddie?'

‘No,' I said. ‘You didn't do anythin' wrong. Don't worry about it.'

She'd just described every would-be wise guy who ever came out of Chicago and New York.

Damn it, what had Ava gotten herself into?

I was wishing Danny would call with some information or, at least, Jerry, when Sean called my name.

‘I got a call for you.'

‘Who is it?' I asked, hoping it was Danny.

‘I don't know,' he said, ‘but he says it's important. About somebody named Danny Bardini?'

With a cold feeling in the pt of my stomach I grabbed the phone and put it to my ear.