Everybody Kills Somebody Sometime

Forty-nine

Henry Silva and Richard Conte were not given suites in the Sands, but they were put up in good-sized guest rooms. I spoke to both of them briefly, giving the same story. Neither had received any threats. They also didn’t seem to know that Dean Martin had been threatened. They thought Frank wanted them to accompany Dean to the set for another reason-to keep him out of trouble.

“Frank says Dean’s havin’ trouble with Jeannie, and might do somethin’ foolish,” Henry Silva told me.

Nick Conte had been told the same story by Frank, but I could tell he didn’t believe it. Conte and Dean were close, coming from similar Italian backgrounds. But apparently Conte was like Sammy, willing to go along until he was told differently.

I wasn’t able to find Angie Dickinson to speak with her. I was starting to think she was avoiding me.

I decided not to ask any of the others the same questions. I had a consensus now, and it seemed that the only one receiving threats was Dean.

For want of something better to do I decided to stick around the casino and wait for the show in the Copa to be over. Dean Martin had said he wanted to deal some blackjack tonight. He usually did that when there was a good-looking woman at the table. She’d bust withtwenty-two and he’d change the rules and tell her she won. It also drew a crowd, which I wasn’t convinced was a good idea tonight. I wished Jerry was around.

If I was going to be around the pit I’d have to dress better, though, but I wasn’t about to go back home without Jerry watching my back. I decided to change into a suit I kept at the casino in case of an emergency.

I had showered and was standing in front of a locker, tying my tie, when Jack Entratter walked in. A couple of dealers I knew were also getting dressed in front of their lockers and looked nervous as Entratter entered. As far as I knew Jack had never been in that locker room.

“You boys finished?” he asked them. “Yer shift is about to start.”

“Yes, sir,” one of them said. They both got the message and hurriedly left.

“What brings you down here, Jack?”

“I’ve been lookin’ for you everywhere.”

“I was talkin’ with Sammy and Peter Lawford, and a few of the others.”

“You didn’t tell them what’s goin’ on, did ya?” he demanded.

“I’m not stupid, Jack.”

“No,” he said, “sorry.”

“But Sammy’s no dummy, and Nick Conte knows Dean well enough to figure out something’s up.”

“Well, just leave it to Frank to fill them in when he’s ready.”

“That was my plan.” I finished with my tie and slammed the locker door closed. I didn’t lock it because I kept nothing of value inside.

“Why were you lookin’ for me, Jack?”

“You goin’ to the show tonight?”

“I wasn’t plannin’ to.”

“What are you dressed for, then?”

I told him about Dean wanting to deal, and my promise to be around.

“I want you to go to the show. Here.”

He reached in his jacket pocket, came out with a ticket and handed it to me.

“You need another one? Wanna bring a broad?”

“No,” I said. “One’s enough.” I pocketed it. “Why do you want me to go?”

“Because I trust you, Eddie,” he said.

“To do what?”

“The right thing.”

Entratter had a lot of men at his disposal, most of them like Jerry-pros.

“What’s this about, Jack?”

“I need someone to watch things, somebody who won’t embarrass me and the casino.”

“Embarrass you how? Come on, what’s goin’ on?”

He hesitated, then said, “You know about Frank supporting JFK for president, right?”

“Sure, who doesn’t?”

“Well, he’s gonna be here.”

“Who’s gonna be here?”

“Come on, Eddie, keep up,” he said, irritably. “Jack Kennedy. He’s gonna be at the show tonight.”

“Wait … the man who might be the next president of the United States is here?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do about it?”

“Just be there,” he said, “and watch.”

“Is his wife with him?”

“No,” Entratter said. “So you can see the potential for trouble here? A handsome Senator, presidential candidate, in Vegas with the little woman at home?”

“I see your point.”

“Where they go tonight,” Jack said, “you go. Promise me, Eddie.”

“What about Dean? He wants to deal.”

“If Frank takes Kennedy out, Dean will either go along, or just go to his room. So let him deal, and then see what he wants to do. If he’s in his room he’ll be okay. If he goes along, you’ll have to go anyway, to watch him.”

“I’m no bodyguard, Jack,” I said. “What about Jerry? Is he gonna get out tonight?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “We’re still workin’ on that. You gotta help me out, Eddie.”

“This goes above and beyond work, Jack,” I said. “Or even our original, uh, favor.”

“I know, I know,” Entratter said. “I’ll owe you, owe you big-time.”

It wouldn’t hurt to have Jack Entratter indebted to me.

“Whataya say?” he asked, anxiously.

“Yeah,” I said, “okay, why not? A night out on the town with Sinatra and JFK? Where’s the harm in that, right?”

“No harm at all,” he said, and then added, “I hope.”