Everybody Kills Somebody Sometime

Five

I left the steam room before Frank, feeling like a dried out prune. I don’t know how he could spend so much time in there, but it may have had something to do with his being so thin-or cool. I replaced Dean’s robe and took a quick shower before getting dressed.

When I got back to the casino floor I didn’t see Joey anywhere. Instead of looking for him, I went to the bar and ordered a cold beer, to replace some of the fluids I’d lost in the Rat Pack steam room.

A hand fell on my shoulder from behind and Joey Bishop said, “There you are.”

He took the stool next to me.

“Drink?” I asked.

“Not for me,” he said, smiling. “Where do we stand?”

“You’re supposed to give me a ticket to tonight’s show.”

“How about two?” he asked, plucking them from his pocket.

“That’ll be fine.” I grabbed them and put them in my breast pocket, then had some more beer. I checked my watch. I needed a change of clothes and a second, more thorough shower. Luckily, I’d be able to do that without leaving the hotel, one of the perks of being a pit boss, and somebody Jack Entratter-usually-liked.

“Well,” Joey said, “I’ll see you after the show and we’ll go to Dean’s suite.”

“Hey, hey,” I said, turning in my stool and grabbing his arm, “what’s the story between Frank and Dean?”

“Truthfully?”

“Yeah, truthfully.”

He settled back onto his stool.

“You tell anybody I told you this and I’ll deny it.”

“Agreed.”

Joey took a moment to form his thoughts.

“Frank and Dean are two very different people,” he said, finally. “Frank likes to surround himself with people who need him. Dean doesn’t need anybody. He’s very secure in who he is.”

“And Frank’s not?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Joey warned. “Just let me tell it.”

“Sorry.”

“The truth of the matter is Frank has wanted to be Dean’s friend since he first met him. He thinks Dean is the coolest cat he knows. Personally, I agree. As for Dean-well, he’s Dean. Talk to him about being part of this Rat Pack and he can take it or leave it.”

“And the rest of you?”

Joey hesitated, then said, “Let’s just say that Dean is the only one who doesn’t absolutely need Frank on some level.”

I figured that was fair. I couldn’t really expect Joey Bishop to say that Joey Bishop needed Frank Sinatra. But I thought pretty much anyone who paid attention to the news knew what Peter Lawford brought to the table. Personally, while Dean Martin was the one I wanted to meet, I thought Sammy Davis Jr. had the most talent. Unfortunately, there were things in Sammy’s life that held him back. He probably needed Frank in order to get around those things.

But I wasn’t really interested in the inner workings of the Pack. I was concerned with the Sinatra/Martin relationship.

“So Frank and Dean are friends?”

“Frank and Dean are good friends,” Joey said.

“That’s what I wanted to know.”

“Then I’m out of here,” Joey said, getting down from his stool. “I’ve got to get ready for the show. Meet me backstage when it’s over, okay?”

“Okay.”

Joey waved and left the bar. I was finishing the last of my beer when Beverly sidled up next to me.

“You gettin’ friends in high places, Eddie?” she asked.

I turned and looked at her. She was a redhead in her thirties, and fit her Sands uniform very nicely. She probably didn’t have the legs to be a showgirl, but she sure had everything else. Her red hair seemed natural, her green eyes sparkled, and she had full, kissable lips. I knew from other conversations that she was the sole support of a kid, although I didn’t know if it was a boy or girl, or how old the child was.

I slid the two tickets from my pocket and said, “How would you like to go to a Rat Pack show with me tonight, doll?”

“Really?” She sighed and her eyes got wide. “I love Frank Sinatra.”

“Have you been to see the show?”

“I haven’t had the time,” she said, “or the money-not for tickets, and not for a babysitter.”

“Well, I’ve got the tickets,” I said, waving them, “and I’ll pay for the babysitter. Whataya say?”

“Eddie,” she said, breathlessly. “I don’t know what to say.”

I looked down at the creamy white of her swelling cleavage and replied, “Please say yes.”

She took a deep breath-which inflated her cleavage even more-and said, “Yes!”