Jack of Diamonds (78 page)

Though I can’t explain why, something from my boyhood prompted me to wear the suit to resign in – it seemed the right thing to do. Although Lenny would undoubtedly have told her of my intention to quit, Bridgett was my boss and I felt I needed to formally resign to her as a matter of courtesy.

I sat down and wrote out my letter of resignation, saying simply that I felt the need to move on, and that my resignation would be effective in two days. I’d never signed a contract, so there was no need to give a month’s notice. I thanked Bridgett for her unfailing courtesy and help, and signed the letter, using the new, very expensive, very fancy Reynolds Rocket (‘it will write on wet paper’) my mom and Nick had sent me for an early gift for Christmas, two weeks away. My mother still regarded America as some distant land where it took weeks for anything to arrive by mail. I think she imagined the parcel travelling by mule train, the poor beasts trudging for days through endless desert wastes.

I was suddenly ravenously hungry. I fried a couple of eggs and rummaged around for some bread, but there was only one slightly mouldy slice. I cut off the mottled crust and stuck the bread in the toaster.

Apart from being exhausted I was overwrought and jumpy, especially after Johnny Diamond’s lightning exit. Johnny was nobody’s fool. He was a war hero and no fly-by-night character – he had a good job he enjoyed, he loved playing poker – and if he felt the way he did about possible retaliation from Sammy and the Mob, then I ought to take it seriously too. But I needed a couple of days to fix my affairs and put the apartment on the market. Sammy had taken a bad beating and was in hospital; surely that would buy me some time.

By now the entire domestic workforce at the Firebird would know what had happened in the early hours of the morning. The night security staff at the Desert Inn were white but the coloured cleaners would have seen everything. Although the cover story would be widely circulated, the real story of what had happened would be known to one and all. Duplicity is yet another name for Las Vegas. News of Johnny Diamond’s departure would be spreading equally fast. No doubt someone would have been finishing up or starting the dawn shift and would have seen him drive off in the somewhat battered light-blue Chevy. He may have been a skilled mechanic, but his car was a case of the shoemaker’s children going unshod.

I ate my two greasy eggs slowly, spreading the yolk over the toast to conceal any vestiges of mould. The food helped settle my nerves and I tried to see things a little more clearly. The fact that Bridgett had been in a large part responsible for the story of the Desert Inn incident, which was to get me off the hook with Chicago, strengthened my resolve to leave. Bridgett, of all people, would know the likely consequences of Sammy’s beating.

By the time I’d fixed myself a cup of black Java – the milk in the fridge was off – the locksmith was all but done.

‘What do I owe you?’ I said.

‘Lady who called said to send the account to her, sir.’

‘Damn, I
told
you I’d pay.’ I reached for my wallet. ‘How much?’

‘Five dollars, sir, the carpen—’

‘Thank you, I don’t need to hear the details.’ I gave him a five and added a buck as a tip, and stuck out my hand for the two keys.

He thanked me. ‘Better keep one in a safe place, sir.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, pocketing the keys and ushering him out ahead of me, before slamming the door and brushing past him down the stairs.

‘No, sir, you lock the door a second time, using the key. It’s the double click I told you about. You have to turn it twice, the key; there and back!’ he called down at me. If I hadn’t been so far ahead of him I’d have returned and punched the stupid bastard.

It was windy and I was fairly chilly in the lightweight suit, and I momentarily considered going back for a sweater, but the thought of facing the double-click locksmith on the stairs decided the matter and I hailed a conveniently passing cab instead of walking to the casino.

I knocked on Bridgett’s office door even though it was, as always, ajar and I could see her seated at her desk. She glanced up, leapt out of her seat and rushed to hug me. ‘Thank god you’re safe, Jack,’ she exclaimed, her voice cracking. She pressed her body hard against mine and I could feel her trembling. I tried to understand what this could mean, but the pressure of her breasts against my chest, the feel of her in my arms after so long, made it impossible for me to think straight. I simply made the most of it, breathing in the perfume of her hair and feeling its softness against my cheek. ‘Lenny told me you’d been to see him earlier,’ she said and abruptly released me. I watched her struggle to regain her composure – why do women tug at the sides of their skirts to adjust their emotions? – and saw that iron control reassert itself. ‘Please sit, Jack,’ she said, indicating the chair facing her across the desk. My heart sank to my boots as I settled myself into her stiff-backed chair. We were back where we always were.

I handed her my letter of resignation and sat back, gazing around the room while she opened it. In contrast to Lenny’s enormous scarlet and gold ‘Chinese New Year’ office, Bridgett’s could barely contain her desk and a couple of chairs. She read my note almost at a single glance, then looked up at me. It was business-as-usual Bridgett who now confronted me. ‘Jack, Sammy’s taken a terrible beating and won’t be out of hospital for six weeks at least. Please don’t leave immediately.’

I’d been rehearsing my words all the way to the Firebird and, to my surprise, they came out perfectly. ‘My mind’s made up. I’ll just collect my music and be gone by tomorrow afternoon.’

Bridgett was too smart to tackle me head on. ‘Jack, Christmas is coming up in two weeks and, as you know, the GAWP Bar is booked out for the month leading up to the festivities, and beyond until New Year’s Day. You’re right about Sammy; we can’t stop him doing something stupid, no one can. To add to the danger, I believe he’s on Benzedrine tablets.’ She paused. ‘I have a hospital report. He can be no possible threat to anyone for a good while yet.’

I shrugged. The temptation to give in to this beloved woman was almost too much for me; I
had
to stick to my decision to leave. ‘Bridgett, I’ve loved being here, but Lenny read me Johnny Diamond’s letter before he burned it and I agree with him. Sooner or later, Sammy’s going to go berserk and I’m the obvious choice of victim. As you’ve so often said, he’s Chicago’s man. That makes him more than just a man. Sammy’s on Bennies, and I know all about them and what they can do even to a normal man. I’d like to get a head start – to be long gone before Sammy comes out of hospital.’

‘Yes, yes, Jack, I understand. The man is mad, and belongs in an institution, locked away for life somewhere. Why the godfather wants this monster around is inconceivable. As a loan shark or debt collector, or whatever he is now, he’s even worse than he was. Rumour has it – and it’s via the coloured staff, so it probably has substance – if a client doesn’t pay up on time, they get taken to a basement Sammy has in a derelict house on the Westside and severely beaten. Lenny’s tried to warn Chicago but they’ve made it clear that the loan-shark business isn’t part of our operation. At least he’s not
our
debt collector.’

‘But Sammy hates the Westside. Calls it Nigger Town.’

‘Perhaps that’s why he goes there. No white faces and the police don’t care.’

‘Did Lenny check out this basement? I mean, it could be real evidence.’

‘I can’t say, probably not, but the busboy, the kid who you sent to fetch me when Hector was hurt, knows where it is. He lives in a tenement close by and has seen the Cadillac parked outside several times.’

‘That means they all know . . . the coloured staff, I mean. Bridgett, all this is doing is making me more determined. It’s no good, I’ve —’

She raised a hand to stop me. ‘Please, Jack, just hear me out first. Whatever Sammy’s intentions, for the moment he’s harmless. You’ll be okay for at least six weeks. I’m told he will be wearing a cast on his ugly face for at least that long. He’s got a broken nose, a crushed cheekbone and a broken eye socket. His minder is in the room next to him, although, I’m told, he slips in and out of consciousness and speaks gibberish most of the time, then calls for his mama. That fractured skull means a protracted stay. Sammy’s second minder, it seems, has disappeared with the pink Cadillac. Pretty stupid – there can’t be that many pink Cadillac convertibles driving around Nevada.’

‘Have the police been alerted that it’s been stolen?’ I asked, alarmed, knowing one thing inevitably leads to another.

‘No, Jack, of course not. The Mafia do things their own way. But I have no doubt they’ll find him. The point is, Sammy is a coward without his two henchmen at his side. Even if he could – and he can’t for several weeks – he wouldn’t attempt to tackle you on his own.’

‘That’s great, Bridgett. So, that gives me six weeks to get as far from here
and
Chicago as possible.’

Bridgett paused and seemed to be thinking. ‘Jack, you’ve had quarterly wage rises ever since we moved to the Firebird.’ She gave me one of her knockout smiles. ‘I daresay you’re the highest-paid piano player in any bar in America. No, don’t worry, you’ve earned each and every cent, and the exorbitant price of cocktails in the GAWP Bar more than covers your salary. Our bar takings are up a staggering four hundred per cent. That’s unheard of. We sell the most expensive drinks in America, while the opposition has to give them away to woo the high rollers. I know money isn’t everything to you – you’ve never once asked me for a tide-over loan, even when I knew you’d been cleaned out at poker – but we really can guarantee your safety for the next six weeks if you’ll agree to stay until New Year’s Day. That’s less than three weeks, then you’ve still got three weeks to find somewhere safe. A new life . . .’ she said – somewhat wistfully, I thought. Then, in a more businesslike tone, she continued, ‘You’d not only be doing me a great personal favour but we’ll give you three months’ salary as a Christmas bonus.’

I threw up my hands. Did she think the only thing I cared about was money? It was hard enough telling her I was walking out of her life, without her insulting me as well. ‘Bridgett, you should know better than that,’ I said. ‘If you were Lenny, I’d tell you to stick your money where the sun don’t shine. And, by the way, part of why I’m out of here is that I’ve never told a single soul when I’ve been busted in a poker game, yet somehow you knew. Everyone knows everyone’s business in this place. It’s high time I regained a semblance of a private life.’ I tried for a lighter tone. ‘Jack Spayd, sometime jazz and not bad blues player, himself at last.’

Bridgett smiled. ‘That’s why you’re the success you are, Jack. You’re always yourself.’

I shook my head. ‘If only you knew.’ I’d be round that desk and gathering her in my arms in a second if I thought I stood a chance.

‘Jack, I apologise for trying to . . . well, to put it bluntly, bribe you. You were going to get a bonus anyway. You’re right, this place is incestuous. And it leaks like a sieve. So, before I say what I’m about to, I want you to know that if you leave tomorrow morning, you owe me nothing. I’ve loved working with you and I do understand why you’re leaving.’ She smiled again, although I didn’t think it was the happiest smile I’d ever seen light up her attractive face. ‘So, what I’m going to ask is purely selfish on my part and if you decide against it . . . well, that’s okay too. There will never be any hard feelings between us.’

‘Okay, go ahead, but, before you do, if it’s about staying, I really don’t like your chances, Bridgett.’

She nodded. ‘I’ve never told you, or anyone this, but there was a price to pay for my two points in the Firebird. I signed a contract with the godfather that I would guarantee we’d increase our takings by fifteen per cent each year for the first five years; that way, the Mob had nothing to lose.’

‘You mean the profits for your part – the high rollers and the GAWP Bar?’

‘No, I mean the regular casino as well, Lenny’s part, too. On paper it was a pretty stupid agreement, I admit. But for a girl from the Appalachians, whose parents believed stroking a snake could cure measles, it didn’t seem too farfetched. America was getting back on its feet after the war, and the numbers of very rich people were steadily increasing and would continue to grow. My hotel experience taught me that it’s not possible to overindulge the wealthy. A grand resort casino was the way of the future. Besides, this way, it wasn’t blackmail; I could always tell myself I’d earned every cent.’

‘But what about the skim?’

‘Well, I was growing up pretty fast. I could see myself being cheated, my profits being carried off in a black briefcase every month so that I couldn’t meet my fifteen per cent increase each year. I got the godfather to agree that my figures were above the line – before the skim. Then I demanded two per cent of the skim as well, so that I knew what they were taking out tax-free. They squirmed and threatened but they were forced to agree in the end. To be truthful, Chicago never dreamed the Firebird could show the kind of profit growth each year that it has up until now.’

I shook my head in disbelief. ‘Bridgett, you’re amazing.’

She smiled. ‘Jack, this is the fifth year and my contract ends on New Year’s Day and, well, with new casinos on The Strip, each year it’s been a little harder. This one,’ Bridgett shrugged, ‘we’re skating pretty close to the line. I’m not saying we won’t make it, but I can’t take any chances. If I’m one dollar short, those bastards will make sure I don’t get my points.’