The Way You Die Tonight (22 page)

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Authors: Robert Randisi

BOOK: The Way You Die Tonight
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‘But wait—'

Jerry cut him off by pushing his heel into Joey's ribs.

‘OK, OK!' Joey yelled. ‘Take it easy.'

Jerry looked at me.

‘Joey, you're dealin' drugs.'

‘Hey, what—' he started but Jerry dug his heel in, then leaned forward, stuck his hand into Joey's jacket pocket and came out with some nickel bags.

‘This is a fact, Joey,' I said. ‘You're a drug dealer. Don't deny it, or my friend will put his foot right into your heart.'

‘Yeah, OK,' Joey said, as Jerry let up on the pressure. ‘So what, I'm tryin' to make a livin'. Who ain't?'

‘You're right, everybody is trying to make a living, but not by hooking other people on drugs.'

‘Hey,' Joey argued, ‘I don't hook people on drugs, I just help 'em when they're sick.'

‘Right, right,' I said, ‘they hook themselves. Well, I tell you what, Joey. We're really not concerned with you dealing drugs. We have a problem with something else you did.'

‘Like what?'

‘Murder.'

‘What?' He tried to come up out of his seat, but Jerry slammed him back with his foot. ‘What the hell? I didn't murder nobody.'

‘You know a woman named Helen Simms?'

‘Never heard of the lady.'

‘How do you know she was a lady?' I asked.

‘It's just a sayin', man,' he said. ‘I don't know the broad.'

‘Well, how about a woman named Tina?' I asked. ‘How about her … Dante?'

Joey Rigatoni deflated at the sound of his club name. Or maybe it was hers.

‘Aw, jeez, man,' he said, ‘you ain't gonna tell my mom about that, are you?'

‘I don't know, Joey,' I said. ‘Am I?'

‘Look,' he said, ‘I didn't kill nobody; I don't know about nobody bein' killed. Just tell me what you wanna know.'

‘You had a fight with Tina – Helen Simms – in the club a while back.'

‘Yeah, so? She was tryin' to muscle in on my turf.'

‘She was selling drugs?'

‘Yeah, why's that so hard to believe, because she's a woman?'

‘Was a woman.'

‘What?'

‘She
was
a woman,' I said. ‘Somebody killed her.'

He was stunned – or he was a very good actor. My heart sank, because I had thought we had our guy.

‘Oh, man,' he said, ‘oh, man, I didn't do that, man. I ain't never killed nobody.'

‘Really … Rigatoni?' Jerry asked.

‘Hey,' Joey said, ‘that's just a stupid name, OK? I ain't connected, I ain't no made guy, and I probably never will be.' He hesitated, then said, ‘I just ain't got the balls.'

It must have killed him to admit that.

‘OK,' I said, ‘then tell me who you think did it.'

‘I got no idea,' he said. Jerry pressed with his boot, but this time the kid fought it. ‘Hey! Cut it out! I didn't even know the woman until I saw her dealin' in the club.'

‘What about the manager? Frankie D.?'

‘What about him?'

‘Does he know you're dealing in his club?'

‘Well, yeah,' Joey said, ‘he takes a percentage.'

‘What did he think of Tina trying to sell in his club?'

‘His bouncers pulled us apart. They put me outside, and that was it.'

‘And what happened to her?'

‘I don't know, man,' he said. ‘I don't know where they took her. Maybe to see Frankie. Why didn't you ask him about it?'

‘I will.'

‘You better watch it, though,' he said. ‘Frankie D. got connections.'

‘Turns out, not so much, really,' Jerry said. He took his foot off Joey's chest.

‘Get out of the car, Joey,' I said.

He brushed at the front of his chest and said, ‘You gonna dump me off here?'

‘Want us to drive you home and tell your mama what you been up to?'

‘No!' he snapped. He leaped up and out of the car like a gymnast. ‘You ain't gonna talk to her, are you? Look, the money I make I give to her.'

‘And where does she think you get it?'

‘Odd jobs,' he said, with a shrug.

I wondered if the woman could really be that stupid, to think that Joey would take home that much money from odd jobs?

‘Don't skip town, Joey,' I said, ‘or we will talk to her. And to the police.'

‘Oh, man, don't bring the fuzz into this.'

‘You better hope I don't find out you were lying to me.'

‘I ain't lyin', man.'

‘That better be true,' I said, ‘because if you are, first I'll give you to my friend here, and then we'll give what's left to the cops. And believe me, they'll call your mother.'

‘Fuck, man!'

‘Take my advice,' I said. ‘Get yourself into another business.'

He started walking, his shoulders slumped, and we drove the other way.

SIXTY-TWO

‘Y
ou believe 'im?' Jerry asked when we stopped to switch places.

‘Damn it, I do,' I said. ‘He was just too stunned when we told him she was dead, and he was a suspect.'

‘Suspect,' Jerry said. ‘That's a cop word.'

‘Sorry.'

‘Speaking of cops, should we give him to them?'

‘No,' I said, ‘I'm not looking to be a narc.'

‘Maybe we should have asked him for his source?'

‘No,' I said, ‘same reason.'

‘What about these?' He took his hand out of his pocket, holding the small bags.

‘We've got enough to do.'

‘Yeah, we do.' He waited a beat. ‘So what do we do?'

‘Let's talk to Danny,' I said. ‘Maybe he'll have some ideas.'

‘I've got no idea,' Danny said.

We were in his office, all seated with coffee in our hands, supplied by Penny.

‘Come on, Danny,' I said, ‘what do you do when your best suspect turns out to be innocent?'

‘I go back to square one,' he said. ‘Start all over again.'

‘That means the Sands,' I said. ‘Back to the ladies' room.'

‘Yes.'

‘Danny?' Penny stuck her head in the door.

‘Yeah, sweetie?'

‘The police are here to see you.' Hargrove barged past her into the room. ‘Detective Hargrove?' she finished, sarcastically.

‘OK, honey,' Hargrove said, as his partner, Martin, came in behind him. ‘We'll take it from here.'

Martin looked at Penny, mouthed, ‘Sorry,' and she just shrugged and backed out.

‘Hail, hail,' Hargrove said, ‘the gang's all here, huh?'

‘What can we do for you, detective?'

‘Well, I could use some coffee.'

Danny drained his mug and put it on the desk.

‘Fresh out.'

‘Yeah, OK,' Hargrove said.

Martin leaned against the wall and kept quiet. I still didn't understand why he hadn't tried to get another partner. Nobody liked working with Hargrove because he was such a dick – and not the detective kind.

‘Again,' Danny said, ‘what can we do for you?'

‘You can tell me what this little gabfest is all about.'

‘Sports …' Danny said.

‘Broads …' Jerry said.

‘Art …' I said.

‘Art?' Hargrove asked.

‘It could happen,' I argued.

‘Yeah, right,' Hargrove said. ‘Look, I'm actually glad you're all here. Saves me the trouble of having to look for you.'

‘We'd love to help, detective,' I said. ‘Just tell us what you need.'

‘I need to know what you three have been up to.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘You,' he said, pointing at Danny, ‘were askin' questions in the dead woman's building. And you,' he went on, pointing at me, ‘I'm bettin' he's workin' for you.'

‘What about me?' Jerry asked.

Hargrove looked at Jerry and said, ‘It won't be long before you're in a cell for something.'

‘Hope it's a nice one,' Jerry said.

‘I'll make sure you've got a big, fluffy pillow.' He looked at Danny again. ‘Listen, Shamus, I don't want you botherin' my suspects.'

‘Suspects?' I asked. ‘What kind of suspects do you have in a suicide case? Or don't you really think it was suicide?'

‘I think any broad who had to deal with you and your boss day in, day out had to be suicidal. Just keep your trained private dick away from my case, Eddie. You don't want to piss me off.'

I thought of a few comebacks for that, but decided to leave it alone.

‘Don't make me come lookin' for you bums again.'

‘No problem, detective,' Danny said. ‘Now you have a nice day.'

Hargrove looked over at Martin, who shrugged.

‘Let's get out of here, Henry,' Hargrove told his partner.

He went past Martin, out of the room first. Martin actually looked at me and raised his eyebrows, then turned and left.

‘What's goin' on?' Danny asked.

‘Seems to me they don't think it's a suicide,' I said, ‘they just told Jack Entratter that.'

‘Why?' Danny asked.

‘I don't know,' I said, ‘but I think I know how to find out.'

‘How?' Danny asked.

‘Martin,' I said. ‘He's not a happy camper.'

‘You think he'll talk to you?' Danny asked.

‘Well, we've got something in common.'

‘What's that?' Jerry asked.

‘Neither one of us likes Hargrove.'

SIXTY-THREE

I
had time to try to collar Detective Henry Martin and get him to talk to me before we had to get ready to go to Dino's show.

I gave the detectives a couple of hours to get back to their desks, and then called from the Sands, using the phone in Jerry's room.

‘Detective Martin,' he said, answering his phone.

‘Martin, this is Eddie Gianelli. Can we talk?'

‘About what?'

‘Things that are mutually beneficial.'

‘And I assume you want this talk to be between you and me?' he asked.

‘That's right.'

‘Without my partner, and without any of your buddies?'

‘That's right.'

‘Why should I do this?'

‘Maybe because you've got a case you can't solve or you need help,' I said, ‘or maybe just because your partner's a prick.'

He hesitated, then said, ‘All good reasons. Where and when?'

‘Tomorrow afternoon,' I said. ‘Some place neutral.'

‘You know where Grabstein's is?'

That surprised me. Grabstein's was a Jewish Deli I had been introduced to by Danny's lawyer, Kaminsky, just a few months ago.

‘I know it.'

‘Meet me there at one.'

‘OK,' I said, ‘see you then.'

‘And Eddie?'

‘Yeah?'

‘Have something for me,' he said. ‘Don't make me waste my time.'

‘Eating at Grabstein's?' I asked. ‘When has that ever been a waste of time?'

I hung up. Jerry had been standing at the bar, listening.

‘Hey,' he said, ‘you were supposed to take me to Grabstein's next time I was here. That's now.'

He was right. After I ate at Grabstein's with Kaminsky, without Jerry, and told him about it, he'd pouted until I promised to take him.

‘Well, you can't come tomorrow,' I said. ‘I told him I'd come alone. But before you go home, definitely.'

‘Hmph,' he said, unconvinced.

I decided to change the subject.

‘You got a suit to wear to the show tonight?'

‘No.'

I picked up the phone.

‘I'll get you one, and me, too, so I don't have to go home to change.'

I called the concierge desk, talked to a man named Ted, told him what I needed. I gave him both our sizes and he said he'd have two suits up to us pronto. Pronto turned out to be an hour, which was OK.

Jerry was just starting to talk about getting room service when the suits arrived.

‘We're gonna eat dinner out,' I said. ‘Let's just get dressed and not ruin our appetites.'

Jerry frowned. ‘I don't understand? Ruin our appetites?' Obviously, this was not a concept he'd ever had to deal with before.

‘Get dressed!' I said.

He humphed again, and took the suit into the bedroom.

SIXTY-FOUR

W
e met Frank, Sammy and Edward G. Robinson at the limo, in front of the Sands.

‘Hey, Eddie G.!' Sammy said gleefully, shaking my hand. It was always one of the oddest sights to see Sammy shaking hands with Jerry. The difference in size was staggering.

We all piled into the back which, even with Jerry in the group, was big and spacious enough to hold us. Frank had made sure of that.

Sammy chattered the whole way, his body vibrating with energy. I think he was just happy to be around Frank, again. I knew Frank liked Sammy a lot, which was why I expected him to forgive him, eventually. Not so with Peter Lawford. That was a rift I didn't think would ever mend.

At the Sahara we filed out of the limo and into the Moroccan themed Congo Room. Because Frank was Frank we got a table up front, where Dean would be sure to see us. Buddy Hackett came over to say hello. He played the Sahara so often he had the honorary title of vice-president of entertainment. I was sure it was he who got Dean to play there.

Seated around us at some of the other tables were the likes of Steve and Eydie, Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh, Red Skelton – I assumed he hadn't lost his shirt at the Sands after I increased his limit – George Burns, and other stars who had come out to support Dino. He was very popular because he was not only a fabulous entertainer, but a great guy. And if you didn't believe me, you could have asked Frank. He loved the guy.

We had dinner – Sammy and Edward G. Robinson doing most of the talking – and were all well lubricated by the time the house lights went down and a spot hit the stage. He did one quick song – ‘Ain't That a Kick in the Head', a song he did in
Ocean's Eleven
, which had been filmed right there in the Sahara – and then asked for the house lights to be brought up, ‘So I can see if any of my friends showed up.'

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