Everybody Kills Somebody Sometime

Forty-eight

I hadn’t expected to see May Britt in Sammy’s room with him, but I was doubly surprised to see May’s mother was there, as well.

“Come on in, man,” Sammy said. He’d answered the door himself, wearing a white shirt and black pants. “May and her mother were leaving to do some shopping.” He pronounced her name “My.” “Honey, this is Eddie-I don’t know your last name.”

“Gianelli,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Britt. Congratulations on your upcoming wedding.

May Britt was a breathtaking beauty, with the blondest hair and clearest, smoothest skin I’d ever seen. I knew half a dozen casinos who would have hired her to be a showgirl on the spot, but she already had a career of her own as an actress. I wondered how much heartache was in the couple’s future because of the differences in their race. As for her mother, it was easy to see where she got her looks from. Mrs. Wilkins was an older, slightly faded version of her daughter.

“Thank you very much,” May said. I found her Swedish accent charming, and understood immediately why Sammy fell in love with her. “I’m very happy to meet you.”

“Come, Mama,” she said. “We must allow the men to talk.”

“I’ll see you later, baby,” Sammy said, and they shared an affectionate kiss.

When the women were gone Sammy said, “Isn’t she something?”

“She sure is,” I said. “Beautiful. You’re a lucky man.”

“Wonder what she’s doin’ with a one-eyed black Jew?” he asked. I searched his face for any sign of belligerance, but there was none.

“No, Sammy, I don’t,” I said. “I imagine she sees in you what women are supposed to see in the men they love.”

Sammy Davis Jr. laughed, slapped my arm and said, “You’re all right, man. Drink?”

“No, thanks. You go ahead.”

“Naw,” he said. “I’ve got to get ready for the show. You wanted to ask me something?”

I found Sammy different when he wasn’t around the others. He was more relaxed and comfortable with himself. When he was around Frank he seemed too eager to want to please him. I wondered why a phenomenal talent like him had to kowtow to anybody, even a Frank Sinatra. But I was also sure that there were things about Sammy’s life, and his relationship with the other members of the group I didn’t know, and would never understand.

However, I wondered if Sammy was not a member of Frank’s “Clan,” if he would have been allowed to stay in a suite at the Sands. Negroes were not allowed to stay in the casino hotels, then, not even entertainers. Jack Entratter, by giving into Frank’s demand that Sammy be given a suite, was inadvertently leading the way to change things in Vegas, when it came to segregation.

I fed Sammy the same story I’d given Peter Lawford and he just shrugged.

“Hey, man, the only threats I been getting are the usual ones. Nothing new to me.”

“Then I won’t take up anymore of your time.”

Sammy walked me to the door.

“Any chance I can get you to tell me what’s really goin’ down?”

“What do you mean?” He’d caught me off guard, but I thought I handled it well. Sammy Davis Jr. was no dummy.

“I mean you’re a real cool cat, Eddie,” he said. “Why would Jack Entratter waste your talents on an errand like this?”

“Sammy, I-”

“Forget it,” he said, quickly, waving my response away. “Forget I even asked. When Frank or Dean want me to know what’s goin’ on, I guess they’ll tell me.”

He opened the door and I felt I had to say something to him while we were alone.

“Sammy, I just want to tell you that I think you’re an incredible talent, and you seem like a nice guy.” I heard myself gushing and tried to stop, but I was impressed with the man.

“I am a nice guy, Clyde,” he said, with a smile.

“Well, I just want to say I wish you and May all the best, and I hope you won’t let what some ignorant bastards say and think-ah, what the hell. I guess I don’t know what I’m talkin’ about, really.”

“Yeah, ya do,” he said. He took my hand in his powerful grip. “You know what you’re sayin’ just fine, Eddie. Thanks.”

He released my hand and I stepped out into the hall. He closed the door gently, still smiling. I felt we connected in that moment, really connected. I thought how lucky I’d be if I could call Sammy Davis Jr. my friend.