Everybody Kills Somebody Sometime

Fifty-eight

I finally got to drink my bourbon, only this time I made it a double. To Bev’s credit she insisted on continuing her shift.

“If I go home I’ll just sit in a corner and shake,” she said. “But as scary as it was, at least I get to know that my life was saved by Dean Martin!”

That was looking on the bright side, all right.

Dean had come back from the Riviera after filming before the other guys. He spotted me with Bev and Lou Terazzo, started across the parking lot towards us, but increased his speed when he saw Lou smack Bev. He waited around long enough to hand the gun to a cop, then went to his suite, where he said he’d be available to make a statement. He told me to come up and see him when I was done.

True to his name, “Unlucky Lou” had picked the wrong day to come at me head-on, and was on his way to jail. I was nursing my bourbon, waiting for Detective Hargrove to come and question me for what I hoped was the last time. While I was sitting there Jerry came walking in.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked. “I seen cops outside.”

“Have a seat and a drink,” I said, “I’ll tell you all about it.”

By the time I finished he was staring morosely into his beer.

“You coulda got killed,” he said, “and it woulda been my fault.”

“First of all,” I said, “I’m not dead, and second of all, don’t try to take all the credit. I let him walk right up to me.”

“This was my job,” he said. “I’m the pro, not you.”

“Jerry,” I argued, “you did your job, kept me alive in that fleabag and got hauled in for it.” I picked up my glass and raised it to him. “Here’s to pros.”

He raised his glass, but still wasn’t completely satisfied.

“I guess I better check out and head back to New York.”

“Stay an extra day,” I said. “I’ll show you some of Vegas you didn’t get to see.”

“I s’pose I could stay one more night. I’ll just have to tell Frank-”

“I’ll arrange it with the hotel,” I said. “And come to the show tonight.”

“Frank said I should come whenever I wanted,” he told me. “So, okay. I’ll see the show. I heard they’re hilarious together.”

“They are.”

He drained his beer and said he’d see me later. On the way out he passed Danny, and the two men sized each other up.

“What’s goin’ on?” Danny asked, sliding onto a stool next to me. “Cops outside, and big Jer looks like somebody took the bullets out of his gun.”

“Have a drink,” I said, and I told him about it just as I had Jerry.

“Jesus,” he said, “Dean Martin saved your ass?”

“That he did,” I said, “and I’m very happy about it.”

“So the killer’s off the streets.”

“He confessed to me,” I said. “I’ll make a statement to Hargrove and that should be that. Now if I could just wrap up my original job …”

“I’ve got something for you on that.”

“From the employee list?”

“No. I’ve had my ears to the ground and something came up today.”

I put my drink down.

“Okay, give. If we could wrap both of these things up in one day I could go back to my pit, where nobody tries to kill me.”

“Yeah, they just wish you dead.”

“Danny …”

“I got somebody who saw your two dead goons, Ravisi and Davis, meet with a big man in a bar off the strip. Money changed hands.”

“So they lied about bein’ hired on the phone.”

“Maybe,” he said, “and maybe they were payin’ off a gamblin’ debt.”

“You don’t have a better description of the man they met with?”

“Big guy, expensive suit, wide shoulders. Could be Big Jer, except for the suit. His is more off-the-rack Robert Hall.”

“No, not Jerry.”

“Well, whoever he is, he’s your insider.”

“Then find me somebody on that list you got from Marcia who matches the description.”

“Sure,” he said, sarcastically, “that’ll take no time at all.”

“I’m gonna go up and talk to Dean.”

“Take me with you.”

“You’ll meet him tonight. Besides, I gotta thank him for helpin’ me out when I’m supposed to be helpin’ him. It’ll be a little embarrassin’.”

“Hey, one more thing,” he said, as we headed out. “My man says this big guy in the bar was always holdin’ his head, you know? Like he was in pain all the time?”

We walked out of the lounge together then went our separate ways. I told him I’d see him at the show. His last comment to me had given me the answer I needed. Now I had to decide what to do with it.

Mack Gray opened the door to Dean’s suite. He was still wearing a dark suit and white shirt, like the first day I met him. In fact, it could have been the very same suit. He also still had that pained expression on his face I’d come to know.

“The Boss is gettin’ changed,” he said, letting me in. “You wanna drink?”

I stared at him for a few seconds and he had to ask me again.

“Huh? Oh yeah, sure. Bourbon, rocks.”

We walked to the bar together. He went around behind it and I sat on a stool. While he got my drink I went over it in my head and it fit. I was basing it on some pretty skimpy evidence, but there was only one way to find out for sure.

Ask.