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Authors: Robert Randisi

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BOOK: I'm a Fool to Kill You
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Hargrove and I ran toward the front door while Kenny called out, ‘You can't leave yours here, either.'
Hargrove turned and tossed Kenny the keys.
We ran into the hotel lobby with Hargrove harping in my ear.
‘I don't know why I'm goin' along with this, Gianelli,' he said. ‘My own partner—'
‘You saw the ring, Hargrove.'
‘Yeah, but why would he wear the ring on the job?'
‘How about arrogance?' I asked. ‘You've run into that on the job, haven't you?'
He ignored my theory.
‘Where do we look?' he asked.
‘All over,' I said. ‘You go into the casino, I'll check the hotel. Napolitano put a man in here to spy on us. It's my bet he's still here.'
‘I hate to have to gamble on you . . .' Hargrove said, but he didn't go on. We split up.
I turned and looked toward the front desk. I couldn't very well go floor by floor, checking rooms. I noticed Rose was on duty, and something occurred to me.
I walked to the desk, caught her attention and waved her over.
‘Yes, Eddie?'
‘The man we talked about the other day,' I said. ‘The one flirting with you?'
‘Yes?'
‘He works here, doesn't he?'
‘Well, yes.'
‘Why didn't you tell me that before?'
‘Y-you didn't ask me.'
She was right, I hadn't asked.
‘Do you know what his job is?' I asked.
‘I—I think he works in the office.'
‘What office?'
To the front desk staff of a hotel everything else was ‘the office.'
‘I'm not sure. Employment?'
A job that gave him access to employees' records would be very helpful to a spy. For instance, he'd know what room I was staying in so that he could slide a threatening message beneath my door.
‘OK, Rose. Thanks.'
She started to return to her position when I called, ‘Rose?'
‘Yes?'
‘You said you noticed his pinky ring,' I said. ‘Does he wear any other jewelry?'
‘Oh, yes,' she said, ‘he has a silver ring on his right hand. I didn't get a close look, though.'
‘That's OK,' I said. ‘Thanks.'
I left her and took the elevator to Entratter's floor. I needed something from him.
Jack's girl's desk was empty. She was probably still at home recovering. I barged into Jack's office, saying, ‘Jack, I need your gun—' I stopped short when I saw Frank sitting at the desk, Jack standing nearby.
‘Hey, Frank.'
‘I just came in to see what was going on with Ava,' he said. ‘I didn't hear from you after Chicago. Whataya need a gun for?'
‘Ava's in the building,' I said, quickly, ‘and she's in trouble. She was snatched from the police station.'
‘By who?' Frank demanded, jumping to his feet.
‘A cop,' I said, ‘but I think he brought her here so one of Napolitano's men can kill her.'
‘The damn spy of his?' Entratter said.
‘Yeah,' I said, ‘but they're gonna be armed, and I'm not.'
‘Well, I'm not,' Entratter said. ‘The cops still have my gun.'
‘Well, I am,' Frank said, and took a .38 out of his pocket. I wasn't surprised to see he had a gun. He'd once showed it to me in the steam room. ‘Let's go!'
‘Frank, you can't—' Entratter started, but Frank ignored him. If he weighed a hundred and fifty pounds every bit of it was vibrating.
‘Forget it, Jack,' I said, firmly. ‘This is Ava we're talking about.'
We took the elevator to the second floor, where the business offices were. Marcia Clarkson pretty much ran the offices there, and was a good friend of mine. When I entered her office she looked up from behind her wire-framed glasses and smiled. Under normal circumstances I would have told her how pretty she was, but I had no time
‘Marcy, I'm looking for a man who works here. Dark-hair, hawk nose, pinky ring.'
She recognized the urgency in my manner, but she also recognized Frank and it threw her.
‘Mr Sinatra?' she said, catching her breath.
‘Hiya, doll,' he said. ‘Answer Eddie's question, OK?'
‘Oh, uh, his name's Jeff Smith,' she said.
‘How long has he worked here?'
‘A few weeks.'
‘Where does he work, Marcy?'
‘Across the hall.'
‘Is he there now?'
‘He was a few minutes ago.'
We rushed out of her office into the one across the way. It was empty. Marcy came in behind us.
‘What's going on, Eddie?'
‘We've got to find him, Marcy,' I said. ‘Where would he be if he's not here?'
She hesitated.
‘Come on, Marcy!'
‘I don't want to get him in trouble,' she said. Jesus, she had a thing for the guy?
‘He's already in trouble, Marcy,' I said. ‘He doesn't belong here. He was sent to spy on Entratter. There's a good chance he's about to kill Ava Gardner. If you know something, tell me.'
She stared at me as if I'd gone crazy, but said, ‘Well, I know he likes to go to the roof when he has a break—'
‘The roof!' Frank said, and he took off.
‘Call down to the casino,' I told Marcy, ‘find Detective Hargrove and get him up here. And tell Entratter where we went.'
‘But, Eddie, what—'
‘Do it now!' I said.
I started after Frank.
SEVENTY-SEVEN
I
caught up to Frank, who sheepishly admitted he didn't know how to get to the roof.
‘Come on,' I said.
We took the elevator again, this time all the way to the top. Then we ran down the hall with me in the lead until we reached the doorway to the roof.
I put my hand on Frank's chest. I could feel him vibrating.
‘Frank, we have to be careful,' I said. ‘There's two of 'em, and they're both gonna have guns.'
‘While we're talkin' here, Ava could be in more danger,' he said.
‘OK, we're goin',' I said, ‘just . . . watch out.'
I knew we couldn't wait for Hargrove to catch up, but all I needed was for this to end with Ava and Frank dead.
I opened the door and we went up the stairs to the roof door. Frank's tension was contagious, but I kept him from barging right through the door. I put my ear to the door, thought I heard voices but it could have been my imagination.
‘We've got to go easy—' I started, but Frank had had enough.
‘Bullshit!' he said, and slammed the door open. He went through with his gun held out in front of him.
‘Damn!' I swore, and followed.
No one. The voices
had
been my imagination, but then we both heard them. We moved away from the door and saw them over toward the edge, near the front of the building.
Holman was standing behind Ava, holding her by the shoulders. The other man – Smith or whatever – was standing in front of them, holding a gun.
‘Shoot her!' Holman shouted.
‘Toss her off the roof!' Smith shouted back.
Each man seemed reluctant to kill her themselves, which may just have saved Ava, which might have been the only reason we'd be able to get there in time.
‘Hold it!' Frank shouted.
All three turned and looked at us.
‘Frank!' Ava shouted.
‘Frank Sinatra?' Smith said, staring.
‘Let her go!' I yelled at Holman. ‘Your partner's on the way, Holman. The jig is up.'
‘Damn it!' Holman swore at the other man. ‘You see what happened because you couldn't do your damned job, Nico?'
‘It can still get done,' Nico said.
Holman let Ava go and she slid down to her knees. She didn't seem to have the strength to run.
‘It's OK, baby,' Frank said.
‘Holman—' I said.
‘Stay back!' the detective shouted. He moved his hand towards his holster.
‘Don't!' Frank said. ‘I know how to use this. You, put your gun down!'
Nico looked at him and said, ‘You're a goddamned singer.'
‘Try me,' Frank said.
‘He can't get both of us,' Holman said. ‘We take care of them, and then the woman.'
‘You touch your gun and I'll kill you first!' Frank said.
I felt helpless. The whole situation was in Frank's hands. I knew he carried a gun, but I didn't know if he'd ever used it before. I didn't have a lot of confidence.
Nico was still facing Holman and Ava with his gun.
‘Put yours down,' he said to Frank, ‘or I'll kill the woman.'
‘That's not a woman, you idiot,' I said, ‘that's Ava Gardner. You kill her you'll never walk away from this.'
I was trying to make him think twice. I was willing Frank to go ahead and pull the trigger, but that was easy for somebody like Jerry. It wouldn't be so easy for Frank. I knew because I'd been in that position.
‘Kill her!' Holman said. ‘Do it.'
‘You haven't killed anybody yet, Nico,' I said. ‘Not that I know of. Maybe you
can
walk away from this.'
‘Don't listen to him,' Holman said. ‘You brought her up here against her will. That's kidnapping. That's a federal offense. Neither of us is walkin' unless we kill them all.'
‘It'll be a blood bath,' I said. ‘Maybe none of us will survive it.' I knew I wouldn't. I was the only man without a gun.
I could see the sweat running down Frank's face. I knew the palms of his hands must be wet, too. Mine were.
‘Frank . . .'
Holman reached for his gun.
‘Frank!' I shouted.
‘Holman, don't!' someone shouted from behind us.
Hargrove had made it to the roof. Holman pulled his gun from his holster and I heard a shot from behind me. There was a burst of red on Holman's chest. Some of it showered down on to Ava.
Nico started to turn and Frank pulled the trigger. I don't know where he was aiming, but he hit Nico in the hip. The force of the bullet spun him around, and his gun flew out of his hand.
Hargrove raced past me and pinned Nico to the ground so he could cuff him.
Frank ran to Ava and took her in his arms, speaking to her softly.
I hadn't had to move.
SEVENTY-EIGHT
Las Vegas, 2003
A
fter the movies I had the limo take us to Caesar's Palace. With all the old places gone they had the best coffee shop on the strip.
Jennifer was talking about how much she loved
Mogambo
. I nodded, but I stared out the widow at the passing marquees: Tom Jones, Danny Gans, Wayne Newton, Rita Rudner, Howie Mandell. Jones and Newton were power houses, but it just wasn't the same strip. It couldn't be, not without the guys.
I was wondering if I should tell her the whole story over a snack. Or which parts to leave out? Like sleeping with Ava. I'd never told anyone about that, all these years. How many men would have done that, slept with a Goddess and not told anybody?
I decided to wait and see if she asked. Then I'd make the decision.
We entered Caesar's with her arm linked in mine. A couple of valets, a doorman, some dealers and pit bosses greeted me by name as we went by.
‘My God, Eddie, this town never forgets, does it?' she asked. ‘You're a legend.'
‘You live long enough somebody's bound to hang that word on ya,' I said. ‘But the real legends are long gone . . . long, long gone.'
‘You miss them, don't you?' she asked.
I nodded.
‘I miss them, and I miss my Vegas. I still love this town, but I hate the bells and whistles. Look at this. There are lights everywhere. All the slots light up, the table games have neon signs above them, and then when somebody hits they start to blink. It's blinding sometimes.'
We got seated in the coffee shop by a young waitress who didn't know who I was. She treated us like a couple of old codgers who were in a big casino for the first time.
‘Have you ever been here before?' she asked.
‘Yes,' I said, ‘many times.'
‘Do you need help ordering?'
‘No,' I said, ‘I've been ordering for myself since before you were born.'
‘Eddie,' Jennifer said, ‘she was just trying to be helpful. You didn't have to snap at her.'
‘Believe me,' I said. ‘She didn't even notice.'
‘Well,' she said, ‘let's get some coffee and pie, and then you were going to tell me about you and Ava Gardner.'
‘There's not much to tell,' I said.
‘I'll be the judge of that.'
While she looked over the menu I thought back to the last time I saw Ava . . .
Sept. 1962
Ava went off with Frank after the events on the roof and I didn't see her.
The Vegas cops got together with the Chicago cops and discovered that Napolitano's kid had been hit. They still didn't know if it had been Giancana's men, or somebody else, but what we did know was, it hadn't been Ava – even though she had been there.
They found a witness – a bell boy – who put Ava with the Napolitano kid in that hotel room. Danny had determined that by that time she'd been wandering around for most of the lost hours in an alcohol induced stupor. Spain to New York to Chicago . . .
The kid had apparently been killed in the room, and Ava left to take the rap. With his blood on her, the cops figured she'd been set up. But she had come to, panicked and ran. If she'd stayed she might have been cleared. Turns out the detective in Chicago didn't buy the kid's death as anything but a hit. They were looking for a woman who'd been seen with him, but Ava had done a good job of keeping her face hidden. Or the bell boy had just been too young to know who she was. And whoever the killers were, they probably hadn't recognized her, either, because at the end of a forty-hour bender she wouldn't have looked like Ava Gardner. Somehow, Napolitano knew about her, though, and blamed her for the death of his son. So he kept sending his men after her, until he actually came himself.
BOOK: I'm a Fool to Kill You
6.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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