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Authors: Robert Randisi

The Way You Die Tonight (6 page)

BOOK: The Way You Die Tonight
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‘That idiot Hargrove is bound to call it a suicide,' Danny said. ‘To label it anything else would mean more work for him.'

‘Look, I'm not asking for a lot of time,' I said. ‘Just have a look around.'

‘Yeah, I can do that for a buddy,' Danny said.

‘And get back to me as soon as you can.'

‘You tellin' Entratter about this?'

‘I will, but not yet.'

‘And what about Edward G.?'

‘He'll be here tomorrow,' I said. ‘So will Frank.'

‘Your ol' buddy Frank.'

Danny liked Dean, but he wasn't crazy about Frank. There wasn't much I could do about that, so I didn't say anything.

‘OK,' Danny said, ‘what will you be doing tomorrow while I'm checkin' on Jack's girl?'

‘I'll be with Robinson, I guess,' I said. ‘Right now that's my primary job.'

‘Why are you messin' with this other thing, then?' Danny asked. ‘Just curiosity?'

‘Yeah,' I said. ‘But Entratter said if the cops called it suicide, he wanted to know for sure. He wants somebody lookin' into it.'

‘And he picked you.'

‘I think he did that because he knew I'd ask you for help,' I said.

‘What about the big guy?'

‘Jerry? There's no reason to bring him in. Don't even know if Jack would go for it.'

‘OK,' Danny said, ‘but as soon as somebody's arm needs to be twisted, or a leg has to be broken, I say bring in the big guy.'

‘I'll go along with that, Danny.'

‘OK. I'll call you tomorrow. Home or work?'

‘Try both,' I said. ‘I'm not sure where I'll be.'

‘Gotcha. Do me a favor?'

‘Sure.'

In the worse Edward G. Robinson impersonation ever, he said, ‘Ask Mr Robinson to say “where's your Messiah now?” for me.'

FOURTEEN

T
he next day I was in the Sands at noon, when Edward G. Robinson was supposed to arrive. I didn't greet him in the lobby, though. I wanted to give him time to get settled, and I didn't want to seem too eager to meet him. So I sat at the bar in the lounge and had a drink.

While I was there Julius LaRosa walked in. LaRosa had risen to fame as a singer on the Arthur Godfrey show, and had a short-run TV series a few years back. Frank was his idol. He was a handsome kid with a big smile, and he was turning the full wattage on me.

‘Hey, Eddie!'

‘Hello, Juley,' I said. ‘Drink?' I signaled to the bartender.

‘I'll have a martini,' Juley told him.

He accepted the drink and remained standing.

‘Eddie,' he said, ‘can you get me a couple of tickets for a show?'

‘Here at the Sands?'

‘No, the Golden Nugget. It's sold out and I need two tickets.'

I didn't ask who the second ticket would be for. At that time I didn't know if LaRosa was married or not.

‘I can make a phone call.'

‘Will you?' He sipped the drink and set it on the bar. ‘Thanks.'

‘Are you staying here?' I asked.

‘Yeah, I got a room.' But I knew he wasn't performing at the Sands. He was doing a stint in the lounge at the Riviera, up the strip.

‘I'll have the tickets held for you.'

‘I won't need to have 'em in my hand?'

‘They'll be at the box office for you,' I promised. ‘Guaranteed.'

He took my hand, pumped it enthusiastically and exclaimed, ‘Thanks, Eddie. Thanks a lot. Frank's right. He always says you're the man.'

As he went out the door, I thought, Oh yeah, that's me. I'm the man.

‘Can you bring me a phone?' I asked the bartender.

After I made the call I had two more people approach me to arrange something for them. One player wanted dinner at the Sahara, and another wanted an increase in his credit limit, even though he wasn't playing in my pit. I accomplished both with a phone call.

By the time I was finished I was thinking that maybe Jack was right. Maybe I needed to come out of the pit and be some kind of … casino host. When I first met Frank and Dean, I had some contacts in Vegas. But during the intervening years, with people realizing that I had their ear, I became even more well known. I could pretty much get people what they needed with a well-placed call.

Casino host. A new job. Maybe even with a raise, if I could play Jack right.

I was giving the phone back to the bartender when it rang. He answered it, then held it out to me.

‘Mr Entratter, for you.'

‘Somebody told me you were down there,' Jack growled. ‘What the hell are you doin', takin' it easy?'

‘No, I'm—'

‘Eddie Robinson is in his suite,' Jack said. ‘He's waitin' for you.'

‘I'm on my way.'

‘Good,' he said, and slammed down the receiver.

I got out of there before somebody else came to me with a problem or a request.

FIFTEEN

I
knocked on the door of Edward G. Robinson's suite. The last time I felt this nervous was when I met George Raft a few years back.

The door was opened by a young woman in a business suit that did nothing to hide her curves. Not showgirl curves, but enough. The color of the suit was green, which worked well with her red hair. It was long, but at the moment was gathered into a bun at the nape of her neck. I imagined her removing the pin and shaking it out when she got home at night.

‘Yes?' she said. ‘Can I help you?' I realized she'd been waiting for me to say something.

‘My name's Eddie Gianelli,' I said. ‘I'm here to see Mr Robinson.'

‘Oh,' she said, with just a slight widening of her green eyes, ‘Eddie G., right?'

‘That's right.'

‘Well, come in,' she said, backing up a bit. ‘Mr Robinson is waiting for you.'

‘Sorry if I'm late,' I said, entering. I closed the door behind me. Robinson had the same kind of suite the Sands supplied for their top performers.

She stuck her hand out for me to shake. I guessed her to be about twenty-eight.

‘My name is Gloria Benjamin,' she said. ‘I work for the studio.'

‘Hello. Are you a … chaperone?'

‘I hardly think Mr Robinson needs a chaperone,' she said. ‘He's a lovely old gentleman.' She suddenly turned and looked behind her, as if to be sure he hadn't heard her description of him.

‘Don't worry,' I said, ‘he's not there.'

‘He's in the bedroom, unpacking,' she said. ‘He insists on doing his own unpacking.'

She was a very serious young woman, probably charged with seeing that the movie star stayed happy.

At that moment the man himself came walking into the room, wiping his hands on a towel. He was in shirtsleeves and grey suit pants.

‘Well, hello,' he said. ‘Are you the famous Eddie G.?'

‘I'm Eddie G.,' I said, ‘but in your presence, Mr Robinson I'd hardly call myself famous.'

He finished drying his hands and then extended his right to me. I shook it. I knew he was over seventy, but he had a nice firm grip.

‘Honey, can you give me and Eddie G., here, some time together? Go check out your room.'

‘All right, sir, but you have that interview later today …'

‘I'll be ready,' he said. ‘You come and get me and I'll be ready.'

‘All right, Mr Robinson.' She turned to me. ‘Goodbye, Mr Gianelli.'

‘Goodbye, Miss Benjamin,' I said. ‘I hope I see you again.'

Robinson opened the door for her and then closed it behind her.

‘A lovely girl,' he said, ‘she's just a bit …'

‘Intense?'

‘Yes,' he said. ‘Intense. How about a drink?' he asked.

‘It's a little early for me.'

‘Me, too,' he said. ‘Can we get some coffee sent up?'

‘Sure, I'll take care of it.'

‘I'll just finish cleaning up,' he said. He started for the bedroom, then turned and said, ‘We're going to have to come up with something to call each other, since we're both Eddie.'

‘And we're both Eddie G.,' I added.

He laughed and went into the bedroom. I called for the coffee and told them to rush it. It was there by the time Robinson came out. He'd changed into a fresh shirt and pair of pants. He had chin whiskers, but I wasn't sure if he was growing some kind of beard or just hadn't had a shave.

‘Wow,' he said, ‘I've never gotten room service that fast before.'

‘You've never stayed at the Sands before.'

The tray with coffee and cups was on the table in front of the sofa. We both sat in front of it and I poured out two cups.

‘I wasn't sure if you were hungry,' I said.

‘I am,' he admitted, ‘but I'd rather go out and eat. Can we arrange that?'

‘We can.'

‘Without the intense Miss Benjamin?'

‘I'll bet we can sneak out.'

‘Frank told you why I'm here?'

‘I heard from Jack Entratter,' I said. ‘Frank will be here later today.'

‘I'm supposed to play this legendary poker player opposite Steve McQueen in the film
The Cincinnati Kid
. Those are the kind of roles I get now … old.' He touched his chin. ‘I'm trying to grow a goatee to see if it makes me look rakish.'

‘I'm sure it will, sir.'

‘Oh, no, don't call me sir, Eddie,' he said. ‘Say, why don't you just call me Eddie, and I'll call you Eddie G. How's that? Or you could call me … Manny.'

‘Manny?'

‘My real name is Emmanuel.'

‘I think I'll go with Eddie, si – I mean, Eddie.'

‘OK, Eddie G.,' he said. ‘How about some lunch?'

‘Where would you like to go?' I asked. ‘There are several really good places off the strip.'

His bushy eyebrows went up.

‘Why would I want to eat off the strip?' he asked. ‘Let's eat somewhere in the building, to start. I want to see the Sands.'

‘Well, I can certainly show it to you, Eddie.'

He smiled, and damned if he didn't look a bit rakish.

SIXTEEN

I
took Edward G. Robinson to the Garden Room. I asked the waitress for a particular booth. It was one I knew could not be seen from the door. I didn't want people bothering Robinson for his autograph while he was eating.

We ordered and Robinson told me about his role as Lancey ‘the man' Howard. Set during the Depression, the film featured Steve McQueen as the young poker player trying to beat the best, who was Lancey Howard.

‘So you're Minnesota Fats,' I said.

He pointed at me and smiled. When he did that his eyes twinkled.

‘That's what I equated it to,' he said. ‘It's the poker version of
The Hustler
. My role was supposed to be played by Spence Tracy, but he had to bow out because of his health. When they offered it to me I jumped at it.'

‘Where'd the story come from?'

‘A novel by a writer named Richard Jessup. The book came out in 1963.'

‘Did you read it?'

‘I did,' Robinson said. ‘I enjoyed it, and I really enjoyed the script. I'm going to have fun playing this character, but I need some practical experience playing the game.'

‘Have you ever played poker before?' I asked.

‘Oh yes, I have, but not the way the men in the book played it. I need to adapt that outlook of the game. You know, that the game is everything.'

‘Well,' I said, ‘you'll sure as hell get that feeling here.'

A waitress named Nell came over and her eyes widened when she saw Robinson. Working in Vegas you come across a lot of celebrities, but Edward G. Robinson was a bona fide movie star, and a legend, to boot.

‘Hi, Eddie,' she said, but she was looking at him.

‘Hey, Nell,' I said. ‘Meet Mr Edward G. Robinson. Eddie, this is Nell.'

‘Well,' Robinson said, ‘I've certainly heard about Las Vegas' beautiful women.'

‘Oh,' Nell – who was very pretty – said, ‘those are the showgirls, Mr Robinson, not the waitresses.'

‘You mean the showgirls are prettier than you?' he asked. ‘I find that hard to believe.'

The old charmer had her blushing. Because he didn't want a huge lunch – he was looking forward to going out to dinner later – we ordered, on my recommendation, turkey sandwiches and French fries. I had mine on white, and he had rye. We both had iced tea.

‘I'll get that right out,' she said, and flounced away. She had probably been on her feet since the early breakfast rush, but suddenly she had new spring in her step.

Robinson sat back and smiled at me. He looked pleased about something.

‘Eddie G.,' he said. ‘You now –' he pointed his finger at me and closed one eye – ‘you're the legend in this town.'

‘Oh, I don't think so.'

‘Hey,' he said, ‘they call me a legend, so I guess that qualifies me to make the judgment. I've heard all about you from Frank and Dino – especially Frank. They value your friendship.'

‘And I value theirs,' I said. ‘Now
they're
the Vegas legends, not me.'

‘Oh yes,' he said, waving a hand, ‘on the stage, of course it's them, but in town – in the casino and on the streets – it's you, my friend. I'm quite pleased to meet you.'

‘Well …' I said, surprised at how embarrassed I felt, ‘I appreciate it.' Was the old gent trying to charm me the way he had charmed Nell?

‘Frank said something about us all having dinner together tonight,' he went on.

‘I can arrange that. Frank should be in his suite in a couple of hours.'

‘Then we have time to eat our lunch at our leisure,' he said.

I started to say yes, but Nell suddenly appeared with a phone.

‘It's for you, Eddie,' she said. ‘Mr Entratter.'

She plugged it in beneath the table and I grabbed the receiver.

BOOK: The Way You Die Tonight
5.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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