Hey There (You with the Gun in Your Hand)

Sixteen

As we drove away he said, “We just fucked with evidence, ya know?”

“I know.”

“I just wanted to make sure you knew what you was doin’.”

“I know,” I said, again.

“I heard Mr. Davis is pretty good with a six-gun,” Jerry said, after a few more blocks. “I heard that, too.”

“That one of his?”

I turned and looked in the backseat, where I had tossed the gun.

“I don’t know,” I said, honestly.

“I guess we’re gonna find out, huh?”

“I guess we are.”

“So where we goin’?”

“Back to the Sands for now,” I said. “I’ve got to make some calls.”

When Jerry pulled the Caddy into the parking lot behind the Sands we sat there for a few minutes.

“We’ve got to put that gun somewhere,” I said, jerking my head toward the backseat where I had tossed it and the envelope of money.

“Your trunk, for now,” Jerry said.

“Isn’t that the first place somebody would look?”

He shrugged.

“Who’s lookin’ now? I think it’s pretty safe there for tonight. Nobody followed us back.”

“If somebody knew I was gonna be there tonight, then they know where I work and live.”

“So you think somebody left the gun there for you to find, just so they could take it back an hour later?” Jerry asked.

“No,” I said, “more than likely the gun was left there for the cops to find.”

“So you think you were sent there to find that body?”

“I was sent there to buy something,” I said. “Instead, we found a body.”

“You got stood up,” Jerry said. “If we’d just left, ya wouldn’t’ve found nothin’.”

“But we went inside and did find something.”

Jerry turned in the seat to face me.

“It’s more than likely whoever was there to sell you the thing you was gonna buy had a fallin’ out, and one of ’em got shot and left the other there, then took off.”

“So the blackmailers fell out and … what? That’s it?”

“If the one that’s left still wants the money he’ll make contact again.”

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

“Hey, it’ll be okay, Mr. G.,” he said. “Nobody knows nothin’.”

“I need a drink,” I said. “You want a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Let’s go.”

I got out of the Caddy and retrieved the gun and the envelope from the backseat. We opened the trunk and I put the gun-still holding it with the pen-underneath the spare. The envelope I put back in my pocket. Then we went inside to the Silver Queen Lounge and sat at the bar.

“Harry!” I called.

“Hey, Eddie. Hey, I know you, right?” Harry asked Jerry.

“Better if you didn’t,” Jerry said, and Harry nodded.

“Two bourbons, Harry,” I said.

“Make mine a beer,” Jerry said.

“Okay,” I said, “two beers, and a bourbon.”

“Comin’ up.”

“You okay, Mr. G.?” Jerry asked.

I held my hands out in front of me. They were shaking.

“Maybe not, Jerry.”

“I’m tellin’ ya,” Jerry said. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“Yeah.”

Harry came with the drinks and backed away quickly. I wondered what it would be like to be Jerry, able to scare people with my size, or a look.

I took a sip of bourbon and chased it down with a swallow of beer.

“Mr. G., you gonna call the cops?”

“I don’t know yet,” I said. “I’ll have to talk to Sammy. He didn’t want the cops involved.”

“What about Mr. S.?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “He won’t have any input. It’ll be up to Sammy.”

Jerry shrugged and swallowed half his beer in one gulp.

“Jerry, you can occupy yourself tonight and tomorrow morning until I talk to Sammy.”

“Where you goin’?”

“I’ll go home and call him from there.”

“I better come with you,” Jerry said.

“Jerry, you’ve got a great room here, and the whole casino to keep you entertained.”

“We found a dead body tonight, Mr. G.,” Jerry said. “Somebody killed him. And that somebody is still out there.”

“Well, like you said at the warehouse, we don’t know that the killing has to do with the reason I was there.”

“No, we don’t,” Jerry said, “but how much do you believe in coincidence?”

“Not much.”

“So I better come with ya,” he said. “You still got the same sofa? That sofa’s pretty comfortable.”

“Yeah,” I said, “yeah, I’ve got the same sofa.”

“Mr. G., I know I’m your second choice, here,” the big man said. “I know you’d like to have yer buddy Bardini here. I may not figure out what’s going on, but I won’t let nothin’ happen ta ya.”

“I know that, Jerry,” I said. “Believe me, I appreciate that you came when I called.”

“Why wouldn’t I, Mr. G.?”