Hey There (You with the Gun in Your Hand)

Forty-two

We drove through the openwork metal arch that read RENO, THE BIGGEST LITTLE CITY IN THE WORLD. Originally, it had been erected in 1927 to commemorate a Highway Exposition that was celebrating the opening of the road over the Sierras, which, at the time, was a big deal. At first it had read RENO, NEVADA’S TRANSCONTINENTAL HIGHWAY EXPOSITION JUNE 25-AUGUST 11 1927. Three years later it was changed to the “biggest little city” sign, and had read so ever since. I’d heard word that they were going to update the sign and, by 1963, it would be neon.

“Is that true?” Jerry asked.

“What?”

“That Reno is the biggest little city in the world?”

“Not literally,” I said. “It’s just a slogan.”

He nodded.

I was driving a rented Chevrolet Sedan that had been left at the airport for us by my buddy, Jim Rooker, who was a pit boss at the Reno Harrah’s. It was easier than giving Jerry directions and, besides that, he was not thrilled about driving a Chevy.

Jim Rooker had also agreed to get us a room without either of our names on the register, but could only offer one with two beds. I said that was fine.

I drove down Virginia Street, Reno’s main drag, past some of the other casinos-Circus Circus, the Primadonna, the Eldorado, the Nugget, the Horseshoe, and Harold’s Club, the oldest casino in Reno.

People were walking up and down the streets, crossing from one side to another, going in and out of the casinos. People from all walks of life, all income brackets. There were men in suits, men in bell-bottoms and flowered shirts, women in dresses, jeans and short skirts.

Finally we came to Harrah’s, one of only two casino/hotels in town. We parked and went inside, each carrying a small overnight bag. Sammy’s fifty grand was in mine.

True to his word, Rooker had checked us in under his name and, by 11:30 A.M., we were in our room. The meeting was supposed to take place at 9 P.M.

“These people are pretty smart not to call on the phone,” Jerry said, looking out the window.

“How so?”

“They don’t give you a chance to argue over the money, or the place, or the time. They just send it in writing and you got no choice.”

“We have a choice,” I said. “We could not show up.”

He turned and looked at me.

“That’s a choice?”

“Not really,” I said. “Not if we still want to help Sammy.”

“What if Mr. Davis is still not tellin’ us everythin’?” he asked.

“Hopefully, we’ll find that out, in time.”

Now he turned to face me head-on.

“So how do we find the meeting place?”

“Same way we got the car and this room,” I said. “My buddy Jim Rooker.”

“Ain’t he gonna wanna know why?”

“He’s not going to ask any questions,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because I know some stuff his wife doesn’t know.”

“Ah …” He nodded with a knowing look.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go and find Jim.”

Jim was in his pit and he agreed to meet us outside in half an hour. He wanted a cigarette and some fresh air.

Outside, on the street in front of the casino, I said, “Jim, this is Jerry.”

They nodded at each other.

Jim was ten years younger than I was. I had trained him at the Sands and he ended up getting married, moving to Reno, and landing this job at Harrah’s. I knew two things about him that he didn’t like people to know. One, he was unfaithful to his wife, and two, he loved her. He could not reconcile the two things, except to tell me once that a “new piece of ass” was too much of a challenge to him.

“Walk with me, guys,” he said, and we started down the street, me next to him, Jerry behind us.

“Here are your directions,” he said, handing me a slip of paper. “That’s in the middle of nowhere, you know. That area gets used for lots of, whatayacallit, clandestine meetings? Sex? Drugs? The whole shebang. But I guess that’s why you’ve got Jerry with you.”

We got to the end of the block and he stopped. Across the street, on the corner, were three streetwalkers in skimpy tops, short skirts and high heels. He waved and they waved back, laughing and calling out his name.

“How’s Enid?” I asked.

“She’s fine,” he answered, still waving. “I told her I’d be seeing you and she sends her love.”

I had introduced him and his wife while they were both working at the Sands.

“She also wanted to know if we could have dinner together, the three of us,” he said. “I told her you would be in and out real quick and didn’t have time.”

“Is it me who doesn’t have the time,” I asked, “or you?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

He checked his watch.

“I only took a ten-minute break. How’s your room?”

“Fine.”

“And the car?”

“Crap,” Jerry said.

“It’s no Caddy, but it was the best I could do on short notice.”

“It’ll do,” I said.

He took a last drag on his cigarette and tossed it into the gutter.

“Is your friend gonna gamble while he’s here?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “We’re not here to gamble. I’m just gonna show him some of the casinos.”

“And drive out into the middle of nowhere,” he said.

“Jim-”

“I know, none of my business. Stop by the pit and say good-bye before you leave.”

“I don’t know if that’ll be tonight or tomorrow,” I said.

“Whenever.”

“Okay.”

As Jim walked away Jerry said, “We better not find no bodies this time. He’s gonna remember we went out there.”

“I know,” I said. “We’ll just have to hope that this time we just make the buy.”