Hey There (You with the Gun in Your Hand)

Seventeen

I was tempted to talk to Jack Entratter first, but two things stopped me. First, I would’ve had to wake him and second, I really did owe it to Sammy to call him. After all, I was sure he’d be waiting to hear what happened.

We collected Jerry’s suitcase from his room and then drove to my house. I didn’t bother checking him out of the hotel. I figured we might have use for his room later on.

When we got to the house he went to check out the kitchen while I called Sammy.

“Eddie, goddamn, man, I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

“I know, Sammy, I’m sorry.”

“How did things go?”

“Not the way anyone planned, I think.”

“What do you mean?”

I told him the whole story, how nobody showed up and how we found a body inside the warehouse, shot to death.

“You had somebody with you?” he asked.

“Yeah, somebody I trust to watch my back,” I answered, “but I didn’t tell him why we were there. I mean, what we were supposed to be buying.”

“What about this dead guy? Did you know him?”

“Never saw him before.”

“Did you … I mean, I don’t know what you do when you find a body. Did you … search him? Try to find out who he was?”

I lowered my voice and said, “I just did a quick search to see if he had the … object on him.”

“And did he?”

“No,” I said, “but he had something else.”

“What?”

“A six-gun.”

“A what?”

“A six-shooter, Sammy,” I said. “Like the ones you had in your holster the other day.”

“My guns are here, Eddie.”

“Do you have any others, Sammy? At your house, maybe?”

“Well, yeah …”

“Can you call May and see if they’re all there?”

“Aw, I don’t want to do that, man,” he said. “That’ll just worry her.”

“It would help us to know if this was one of your guns, Sammy,” I said. “If it is then somebody tried to frame you for murder.”

“Man,” he said, “I was just tryin’ to buy back a photo. Why would someone want to frame me?”

“I was gonna ask you that,” I replied. “Look, I’ll fly up there tomorrow and bring the gun.”

“You took it?”

“Yeah,” I said, “I couldn’t leave it there.”

“Eddie, man … you broke the law.”

“I know, Sammy, I know, but if it was yours …”

“I don’t know what to say, man,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” I said. “I’ll be there early tomorrow, or as soon as I can get ahold of Frank’s pilot.”

“I’ll call Frank first thing,” he said. “I’ll arrange it. A car will pick you up in the morning.”

“Good, Sammy, good.”

“Eddie … did you call the cops about the body?”

“No, Sam,” I said, “not yet. I was going to but … let’s wait until you look at the gun. If it’s not yours, I can call the cops and report the body.”

“And if it is mine?”

“I guess we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As I hung up, Jerry yelled from the kitchen, “You got some baloney. You want a sandwich?”

“No thanks.”

“I’m makin’ coffee,” he said.

“Good. I’ll have some of that.”

I left the phone and walked into the kitchen. Jerry had taken off his jacket, hung it over the back of a chair, and rolled up his sleeves. He was wearing his shoulder harness with his.45 under his left arm.

“You gotta stock your ice box with more stuff, Mr. G.,” he said.

“Yeah, now that you’re here, I’ll have to.”

“Geez, don’t you eat?”

“I eat out, Jerry … a lot.”

“Yeah, I know, but ya gotta have some food in the house, just in case.”

“Just in case what?”

“Ya get hungry!”

“That’s not a ‘just in case’ with you, Jerry,” I said, “that’s an ‘all the time.’ ”

“Hey, I’m a big guy. I gotta eat.” He bit into his baloney sandwich and licked a glob of mustard from the corner of his mouth. I didn’t even know I had mustard. I never use it.

“So did you talk to Mr. Davis?”

“I did.”

“What are we doin’ tomorrow?”

“We’re flyin’ to Lake Tahoe in Frank’s helicopter.”

“Early, I bet.”

“A car will pick us up and take us to the airport,” I said.

“I’ll get up and make some eggs,” Jerry said. “I noticed you have eggs.”

I didn’t bother to tell him not to make breakfast. I knew it would be no use. Hell, if he had to eat I figured I might as well, too.

“I’ll get you a pillow and some sheets for the sofa.”

“Just a pillow’s good, Mr. G.” He patted the.45. “I got my baby to keep me warm.”

I liked the idea of having Jerry on my sofa with his.45. Once last year a couple of goons had broken into my house and worked me over. Another time, two gunnies kicked in the door only to find Jerry there. And still another time somebody had blown up my Caddy, hoping to find me in it. After finding that body in the warehouse I probably wouldn’t have slept in the house alone with no gun.

“I’m gonna turn in,” I said. “I’ll get up at the first smell of coffee.”

“I’ll get it goin’ good an’ early, Mr. G.,” Jerry promised.