The Way You Die Tonight (21 page)

Jerry pushed the protesting Frankie into the chair and tied him there. We left the blindfold on. He'd seen Danny, but not me and Jerry. We wanted to keep it that way.

We also decided that I'd do the talking. Jerry finished tying him and then stood aside. When and if it came time to squeeze, he'd take over. We also had masks, which we'd only wear if we decided that Jerry's bulk would come in handy.

‘OK, Frankie,' I said, ‘here's the deal.'

‘You sonsofbitches don't know who you're dealin' with.'

‘Yeah, we do,' I said, ‘and we don't give a rat's ass.'

‘You better—'

Without a signal from either me or Danny, Jerry stepped forward and clubbed Frankie once. It was a love tap, really, but Frankie's head rocked back, and his bottom lip split.

‘Now shut up until I've asked a question,' I said.

He licked the blood off his lip and kept quiet.

‘Somebody's dealing drugs in your club,' I said. ‘I don't care if he's doin' it on his own, or workin' for you. I just want to know who he is.'

‘Look,' he said, ‘I don't know what you're talk—'

Bam! Jerry hit him, again. It wasn't in the plan, but Danny and I decided to just go with it.

‘In a minute I'm gonna take off your blindfold so you can see who's hitting you; and so you can see it comin'. Wanna try this again …?'

Well, he held out for a while – over an hour, really. Then we found out why.

‘Look,' he said, ‘if my bosses find out I'm peddlin' drugs in my club they'll kill me.'

‘Well, if it turns out your dealer killed Helen Simms,' I told him, ‘it's all gonna come out in the wash and they'll find out, anyway.'

‘Jesus …' he said, with a sob.

‘Come on, Frankie,' I said. ‘Your dealer had a fight with Helen in the club, right?'

‘Right.'

‘And now she's dead. Do you think he killed her?'

‘I don't know,' he said, meekly.

‘Well, we want to ask him,' I said. ‘So we need his name, and address. Then we'll take you back to your car.'

‘Y-you're not gonna squeal on me?'

‘We don't care about you or your club,' I said. ‘We just want the name and address.'

‘OK, OK,' he said, ‘his name's Joey Rigoletti. Uh, they call him Joey Rigatoni.'

‘Is Joey connected?'

‘He's just a kid who wants to be a wise guy,' Frankie said. ‘He knows I'm connected, and thinks he's gonna ride my coattails to bein' a made man.'

‘And he doesn't even know you're not a made man, right?' I asked. ‘Doesn't know you're just an errand boy.'

‘N-no, he don't.'

I looked at Danny and Jerry and they each, in turn, nodded, indicating they believed him.

‘Tell us where to find Joey Rigatoni and we'll take you back to your car.'

He gave us an address, and I signaled Jerry to untie him from the chair.

We took him outside and put him back in the trunk. Jerry made sure he banged his head getting in. We tied his hands and feet again, and closed the lid.

Before I closed the door I said, ‘Frankie, if it turns out you lied to us, you won't even see us comin', next time. Got it?'

‘Yeah, I got it.'

‘And the same goes for calling Joey.'

‘Fuck Joey!' Frankie swore.

I slammed the trunk closed.

‘What now?' Jerry asked.

‘I suggest we all get some sleep. We can pick up Rigatoni tomorrow,' Danny said.

‘What if he warns him?' Jerry asked.

‘I don't think he will,' Danny said. ‘He's scared enough to let Joey fend for himself. He probably feels this is all Joey's fault, anyway.'

‘OK then,' I said. ‘Jerry, you drive.'

We left him off in front of his club, still tied and blindfolded. Let him get himself free. We drove off and, at Jerry's urging, went to get something to eat.

‘W
hat about the cops?' Danny asked, when we dropped him off at his place.

‘Fuck 'em,' I said. ‘Let Hargrove do his own job.'

‘What if we find out Rigatoni did kill Helen?' Danny asked. ‘What do we do with him then?'

‘I'll think about calling Hargrove if we get a confession.'

‘Well, come and get me if you want me there when you grab him.'

‘Thanks, Danny, for all your help.'

Danny pointed at Jerry and then at me, saying, ‘And you watch his back.'

‘I always do,' Jerry said. He sounded annoyed. This was not the first time somebody had told him that, and he probably thought he didn't need to be told.

‘You goin' home?' Jerry asked, as he pulled away from the curb.

‘No, just driving to the Sands; I can spend the night there. I have a change of clothes. Tomorrow morning we can decide what to do about Joey Rigatoni.'

‘I say we grab him and squeeze.'

‘If he killed Helen he's not gonna crack as fast as Frankie did. He's got a lot more to lose.'

‘So how do you want to play it?'

‘That's what we have to talk about,' I said, ‘and think about.'

‘You gonna tell Mr Entratter what's happenin'?'

‘Not yet.'

‘Is he gonna be pissed?'

‘Maybe,' I said, ‘but even though he wants Helen's killer caught, he may not approve of how we're doing it.'

‘So better he don't know, huh?'

‘Much better,' I said. ‘When we have more information, we'll clue him in.'

‘OK with me,' he said. ‘I'll think on it too and we can talk at breakfast.'

I looked at my watch. It was 4 a.m.

‘Let's meet in the Garden Café at nine a.m.'

Jerry nodded and headed down the strip. I watched the marquees go by, Alan King at the Riviera, Della Reese at the Desert Inn and, as we approached the Sands marquee, Nat King Cole. When we passed the Sahara I saw Dino's name all lit up, and it reminded me that he was in town doing a show.

Things were changing in Vegas. Howard Hughes wasn't the only person with money who was trying to move in. The mob's hold on the casinos was not as strong as it had once been. The Rat Pack was not as close knit a group as it once was. Peter Lawford was on the outs, Joey Bishop was busy with his TV show, Sammy and Frank were on shaky ground. The only thing that was certain in their world was that Frank and Dino were friends – each other's friend, and mine.

But the marquees went on, the neon lights shone brighter than ever, and I was on the verge of some sort of new position. All I had to do was find a killer, and ward off Howard Hughes' clutches.

Life used to be easier. What happened to those days?

I
spend a lot of time with a table between Jerry and me. And the table was usually covered – I mean covered – with food. Maybe Jerry and I should start having our discussions while walking, instead of eating. No, I'd never be able to convince the big guy of that.

When he came down to the café at nine a.m. he was wearing the houndstooth sport coat I'd first seen earlier in the year. I had on jeans, a T-shirt and light windbreaker kept in a locker at the Sands for emergencies.

‘'mornin', Mr G.' He sat down, looked around, probably for Lily. I'd already determined that she wasn't working that shift. Instead Nell came over to take our orders.

We'd eaten after returning Frankie D. to his club, but we were both hungry again and ordered eggs.

Over coffee Jerry asked, ‘You come up with a way to go?'

‘Maybe.'

‘Good,' Jerry said, ‘'cause all I got is to grab 'im and squeeze 'im.'

‘Well,' I said, ‘that may be the way to go.'

After breakfast I called Robinson to make sure he was in his suite, and then we went up. He was alone and answered the door himself.

‘How did it go with Madge?' I asked.

‘She was marvelous,' he said, happily. ‘I learned more about the game, and the strategies, than I ever thought I could.'

‘Do you think you're ready to play?'

‘Oh, no,' Robinson said, ‘no, no, Madge is coming back this afternoon. I don't think I'll be ready to play until she says so.'

‘I see,' I said. ‘Well, that's good. I'm glad she's taking care of you.'

‘How are things going for you fellas?'

‘I think we're getting close, Eddie,' I said.

‘That's fine,' he said. ‘I think you boys can leave me in Madge's hands and take care of your business.'

‘You're OK with that?' I asked.

He put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘I know both Frank and Jack Entratter have put pressure on you to squire me around, Eddie G., but yes, leaving me with Madge is very all right with me. Perhaps by the time she says I'm ready to play, your business will be concluded.'

‘I hope so,' I said, ‘I sincerely hope so.'

We made one more stop before leaving the Sands.

‘Come on in,' Frank said. ‘You get my message?'

‘I didn't, Frank,' I said. ‘Sorry.'

‘I left it at the front desk. Ah, it's OK, kid,' he said. ‘I just wanted you to know that you, me, Eddie Robinson, and Big Jerry here are going to see Dino when he opens tonight at the Sahara.'

‘That's great, Frank.'

‘Yeah – Smokey's comin', too. He's flying in for the show.' Smokey was Frank's pet name for Sammy, not because he was black, but because he smoked so much. I was glad to hear that Sammy was coming in. He'd said something on the radio a while back that pissed Frank off. Maybe they were over it.

‘I just wanted to let you know what's goin' on with Eddie.'

‘He told me,' Frank said, ‘you got some broad showin' him how to play poker. He loves it! I appreciate you doin' what you can for him, Eddie G.'

‘Sure, Frank, sure,' I said. ‘Happy to do it, you know that.'

‘You guys be ready tonight about six,' he said. ‘I'll have a limo out front. We're gonna have dinner and see the show, give Dago a hard time, eh?' Dago was Frank's nickname for Dean.

‘You got it, Frank,' I said, and we left. I was satisfied that both Eddie Robinson and Frank were taken care of, for the time being.

‘Sonofabitch,' Jerry said.

We were in the Caddy, watching for the address that we had for Joey Rigatoni. It was a small house in a residential neighborhood of almost identical houses.

‘Not where I'd expect a drug peddler to live,' Jerry said, when we pulled into the block.

We watched the house for an hour before the front door opened and a young man stepped out. He was tall, skinny, wearing worn jeans and a jacket. His hair was long and unkempt, and even at a distance I could see it needed washing. I couldn't imagine him in the Happy Devil.

‘Fits the description Frankie D. gave us,' Jerry observed.

‘Yeah.'

When a white-haired woman came out behind him Jerry said, ‘Sonofabitch.' The boy and woman hugged, he kissed her on the cheek and started down the cracked concrete walkway. ‘Looks like he lives with his mother.'

‘Yeah,' I said, ‘or aunt.'

‘Landlady, maybe?'

‘No,' I said. ‘I don't think he'd be renting a room in this neighborhood. I think he lives here. Probably grew up here.'

‘And he's dealin' drugs to try and get out?' Jerry asked.

He walked in the opposite direction from us. The woman stood on the porch and watched.

‘We can't grab him in front of her.'

‘If we try to grab him in this neighborhood we might be seen,' Jerry observed.

‘OK, then,' I said, ‘let's see where he goes.'

We tailed Rigatoni in the Caddy, which Jerry was very good at, despite the size of the car and him. We watched as Joey met with some friends, stood on a corner for a few minutes, then moved on and did the same thing a few blocks away. When he stopped at a bus stop I said, ‘Did I see right?'

‘Yeah,' Jerry said. ‘He's dealin'. He was passing some bags to his buddies and getting paid in with all that hand shakin'.'

‘Let's grab him before he gets on the bus.'

‘Gotcha, Mr G. When I jump out, you slide in behind the wheel.'

‘Gotcha,' I said, letting him call the play because he was the experienced one.

Jerry screeched up to the bus stop. Joey was standing there with an older man who was sitting on a bench, eating a bagel. He jumped out of the car and I slid behind the wheel.

Joey saw him coming, knew something was up and said, ‘Hey, wait—'

‘Let's go, Joey!' Jerry said and literally picked Joey up and threw him into the back seat of the Caddy.

The old man watched, his eyes wide, a bite of bagel half in, half out of his mouth.

‘Sorry, sir,' Jerry said to him. ‘Hope we didn't interrupt your breakfast.'

‘What'd he do?' the man asked.

‘He's been dealin' drugs.'

The old man said, ‘Fuck 'im up, then,' around the bagel, and went on chewing.

Jerry got into the back seat with Joey, who was just scrambling up to try and climb out. Jerry clubbed him and Joey Rigatoni fell back onto the seat, glassy-eyed.

‘Go, Mr G.!' Jerry said.

I peeled out, burning rubber. Helluva way to treat a Cadillac.

O
K, so we hadn't planned this snatch as well as Danny had planned out the snatch of Frankie D. So for want of a place to take him and question him, I just drove to Industrial Road, found a deserted stretch, and stopped.

‘Hey, what the fuck—' Joey started, but Jerry pushed him into one corner of the Caddy's back seat and then planted his massive foot on his chest.

‘Jesus!' Joey said.

‘Listen to this man's questions,' Jerry said, ‘and answer them, truthfully. If I think you're lying, I'm gonna grind my heel into your chest.'