The Way You Die Tonight (5 page)

No key.

I looked around to see if she had set it down on a sink, or if it had fallen to the floor. There was no key, anywhere.

How had she gotten in?

I went back into the hall, locked the door and returned to Marcy's office. She was sitting with her head down on her desk. When I walked in she looked up at me with tear-stained eyes, magnified by her glasses.

‘What happened, Eddie?' she asked. ‘Why would she do that?'

‘You think she hung herself?'

‘Well … what else could have happened?'

‘Did you and she talk much, Marcy?' I asked.

‘N-no, not really,' Marcy said.

‘Jack said she hadn't been herself lately,' I said. ‘Did you notice anything wrong?'

‘No,' she said. ‘Even when we were in the bathroom at the same time we just sort of said hello. E-Eddie, do you think … can I go home now?'

‘I'm sorry, Marcy,' I said. ‘The cops are gonna want to talk to you.'

She hugged herself, as if she was cold. Jack came into the room.

‘Cops are on the way,' he said.

‘I locked the bathroom door.' I showed him the key, then put it in Marcy's top drawer. ‘Why don't you stay here with Marcy?'

‘Where are you goin'?'

‘I want to check on something.'

I left the office and walked down the hall to Entratter's. When I got to Helen's desk I opened her top drawer – the same one Marcia used for her key. There was no key there. I sat at the desk and opened the drawer to the right. Still nothing.

How had she gotten into the bathroom without the key?

I was still thinking about that when two uniformed police arrived.

T
he policemen took a look at the scene, asked a few questions and then called for the detectives. I knew when the call came in, and they saw the address, who would take the call.

Hargrove.

‘Well, well,' Detective Hargrove said, as he entered Jack's office. ‘Little trouble at the Sands?'

‘If you call the death of an innocent woman “a little trouble”, detective,' Entratter said.

Hargrove looked at me.

‘What's your involvement, Eddie?'

‘I just happened to be in the neighborhood.'

Behind Hargrove came his partner, Martin. He looked unhappy, probably because he was still partnered with Hargrove.

‘Well,' Hargrove said, ‘we better take a look at the scene.'

‘I'll take you—' Entratter said, starting to get up.

‘No,' Hargrove interrupted. ‘I want Eddie to show us.'

‘Why?' Jack asked.

Hargrove smiled and said, ‘Because I'm in charge, Mr Entratter.'

‘It's OK, Jack,' I said, standing up. ‘I'll show him.'

We left Jack's office and I stopped at Helen's desk.

‘What are you doing?' Hargrove asked.

‘We'll need this,' I said, opening the drawer and taking out the key. ‘I locked the bathroom so nobody else would go in.'

As we walked down the hall, he asked, ‘Who found the body?'

‘One of the girls who works here. She's down the hall at her desk with one of your cops.' The other uniform was standing in front of the bathroom door.

‘Detective,' he said. ‘We had him –' he nodded to me ‘– lock the door again after we took a look.'

‘That's fine,' Hargrove said. ‘Open it, Eddie.'

I unlocked it, went to open the door, but Hargrove grabbed my arm.

‘That's good enough. You can go back to your boss. We'll be along after we're done.'

‘There's something you should know—'

‘There's a lot we should know,' Hargrove said, ‘and we'll find it all out, don't you worry. Now run along.'

I handed him the key and said, ‘Suit yourself.'

As I re-entered Jack's office he asked. ‘What are they doin'?'

‘Taking a look.' I sat down again.

‘I knew somethin' was wrong with her,' he said, shaking his head, ‘but not this.'

‘Not what, Jack?'

‘Suicide?' He shook his head again. ‘Why didn't she talk to me first?'

‘Did you and she talk a lot about your private lives?' I asked

‘No,' he said, ‘not at all.'

‘Then why would she confide in you?' I said, ‘I don't think it matters much, anyway.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘I don't think she killed herself.'

‘What are you talkin' about?'

‘Her bathroom key was still in her desk,' I said. ‘I used it to lock the door after we found her.'

‘Then how did she get in?'

‘That's the question.'

‘Maybe Marcy—'

‘She still has her key, Jack,' I said. ‘Look, I better go and see how she is, and stay with her while the detectives question her. She's ready to fall apart.'

‘Eddie,' Entratter said, ‘are you sayin' somebody came into my hotel and killed my secretary?'

‘I don't know what else to say, Jack.'

‘She could've done it herself,' he said. ‘Maybe the door was left unlocked, maybe—'

‘What did she stand on?'

‘What?'

‘To tie the belt around the pipe and then hang herself,' I said, ‘what did she stand on? There's no chair, no ladder—'

‘The trash can?'

‘Not big enough.'

‘Maybe she stood on the edge of a sink—'

‘She could've done that, and jumped off,' I said, ‘but still … how did she reach the pipe to tie off the other end of the belt? And we don't even know if it was her belt?'

‘Jesus … did you tell Hargrove this?'

‘Oh no,' I said, ‘Detective Hargrove wants to find out the facts all by himself.'

‘But you are gonna tell him, aren't you? Sometime?'

‘Jack, if I figured it out, he should be able to figure it out, don't you think?'

‘He's kind of an idiot, Eddie.'

‘Yeah, well,' I said, ‘maybe his partner will dope it out. He's kinda smart.'

‘Jesus,' he said, ‘murder. Man, I hope you're wrong, Eddie.'

‘So do I, Jack.'

T
he floor was closed off. Nobody allowed up, nobody allowed down. I sat in Entratter's office with him, trying to talk about something other than a possible murder.

The subject of Edward G. Robinson came up.

‘Oh damn …' Jack said.

‘What?'

‘Eddie Robinson is comin' in tomorrow.'

‘Well, that's tomorrow,' I said. ‘The cops should be gone by then.'

‘Let's just hope you're not in jail tomorrow.'

I sat up straight in my chair.

‘Why would I be in jail?'

‘Because Hargrove hates your guts,' Entratter said. ‘If he can hang this on you, he will.'

‘My experience with Hargrove tells me he's gonna call this a suicide.'

‘Maybe it is.'

‘She have any reason to kill herself?' I asked.

‘Not that I know of.'

‘And Marcy doesn't know. Is-was she close to anyone else?'

‘Not that I know of,' Entratter said, ‘but then I don't know who she's friends with.'

‘She wasn't a very pleasant woman,' I said. ‘Maybe she had no friends.'

‘She wasn't pleasant to you,' he said. ‘She didn't like you. That didn't extend to everyone.'

‘Well,' I said, ‘it'll be up to the cops to find all that out – if they bother to ask.'

Entratter frowned.

‘Now, wait a minute,' he said. ‘I wouldn't want this to be called a suicide if it's not.'

‘That's gonna be up to Hargrove,' I said. ‘He's the man in charge.'

‘I was kiddin' you, Eddie,' he said. ‘I don't expect him to arrest you, but I do expect him to investigate.'

‘He will investigate,' I said, ‘unless he calls it a suicide.'

Entratter sat back in his chair, looking unhappy.

‘When does Robinson get in?'

‘Tomorrow at noon.'

‘And Frank?'

‘He'll be here tomorrow around three.' He was still frowning.

‘Am I supposed to take Mr Robinson to the tourist sights?'

‘No,' Jack said, ‘he wants to play poker.'

‘In the casino.'

‘No, the way they play it in the movie.'

‘And how's that?'

‘I don't know,' he said. ‘You'll have to ask him that yourself.'

‘I wish Frank was getting here before him,' I said. ‘I'd like to talk to him first.'

‘You could call him, but I don't know where he is. Just that he'll be here tomorrow. Look, about this … thing with Helen.'

‘This thing?'

‘Murder, suicide, whatever it is.'

‘What about it?'

‘Just what I said,' he answered. ‘Murder or suicide. I want to know which it is.'

‘And if it's murder?'

‘Then I want the sonofabitch caught!'

‘That's the police's job …'

‘Yeah, you told me that, already,' Entratter growled.

‘Look,' I said, ‘why don't we wait and hear what Dick Tracy comes up with? Then you can blow up all you want.'

He pointed at me. ‘If he says it's suicide, I'm gonna want you to look into it.'

‘Me? I'll be busy with Edward G. Robinson. Besides, I'm not a detective.'

‘You're as good as,' Entratter said. ‘That's what they tell me.'

‘They? Who are they?'

‘Frank, Dino. Even your buddy, Bardini, says so, doesn't he? Put his life in your hands a few months ago, didn't he? In fact, he's done it more than once.'

‘Jack—'

‘There's no point in arguin' about it now,' he said. ‘Let's wait and see what Hargrove says.'

‘That's what I said.'

‘And it's a good idea,' he said.

‘Good, then we can stop arguing about it,' I said. ‘How about a drink?'

‘Don't mind if I do.'

He had poured two scotches and handed me one when Hargrove and Martin came into the office.

‘We're movin' the body now,' he said. ‘Is there family to be notified?'

‘I don't know,' Jack said. ‘I'll have to check with personnel.'

‘Well, let me know as soon as you can.'

‘So what's the call?' Entratter asked.

‘The call?'

‘Was she … murdered?'

‘Oh, I doubt it,' Hargrove said. ‘Looks like she strung herself up.'

‘What did she stand on?' I asked.

‘What?'

‘What did she stand on to get the job done?' I asked again, without turning in my seat.

‘Probably the sink,' Hargrove said.

‘You said looks like she did it herself,' Entratter said. ‘You're not callin' it that yet?'

‘Not yet,' Hargrove said. ‘Not til the ME does his thing.'

‘We've talked to the other people on this floor, gotten all their names and addresses,' Martin said. ‘You can open the elevators up again.'

‘Thank you.'

‘Don't leave town,' Hargrove said. ‘Either of you. Just in case we need you.'

‘We're not goin' anywhere,' Entratter said.

‘So long, Eddie,' Hargrove said to my back. ‘See you in jail.'

As they left I looked at Entratter and said, ‘Funny man.'

I
left Entratter's office and walked toward the elevators. All of the offices on the floor along the way were empty. Jack had said he was allowing anyone who was upset by the incident to go home. That appeared to be everyone. No doubt somebody had used it as an excuse to simply go home, but I hoped most of them had left because they were unnerved.

I know I was.

But I wasn't going home.

I stopped at the elevator, turned and walked back. The personnel office was empty. I went to the file cabinets and looked for Helen's file. The problem was I didn't know her name, but since she was Jack Entratter's secretary, I thought the file would be prominent. Luckily, it was right there in front of the top drawer.

Her name was Helen Simms. According to her file she was single, just turned forty, had an apartment in a quiet neighborhood off the strip, which was only a few blocks away from being in Henderson.

There was more, but I decided to take the file with me. If the cops hadn't taken it by now, maybe they wouldn't be looking for it. Especially if they were going to call it a suicide.

I tucked the file underneath my arm and walked to the elevator.

When I got home I dropped the file on the kitchen table. I'd stopped at a chicken place for take-out. I got a beer out of the fridge, knife and fork from a drawer and pried the top off my meal. While I ate I went through the file thoroughly. She had no family – or none that was in the file. She'd had nothing but good work reviews from Jack. And she got a good raise every year for the past eight years.

That was all there was. If I wanted to ease my curiosity any further I'd have to go to her home. Did I want to do that? And take a chance of running into the cops?

And why should I do it when I knew a perfectly good detective?

I tossed my trash, washed my silverware, opened another beer, and called Danny.

‘Sounds like you want to hire me to investigate this woman's death,' Danny said.

‘Well, I was thinking of it as more of a favor,' I said, ‘but if it comes to that, I suppose I could worm a fee out of Entratter.'

‘And why would it come to that?'

‘I think if the police call it a suicide, Jack's not going to be happy.'

‘So why not wait?'

‘Because I'm curious,' I said. ‘I've read her file. I think the only other way to learn anything is to go to her home.'

‘Take a look around, talk to the neighbors,' he said.

‘Exactly.'