Hey There (You with the Gun in Your Hand)

Fifty

I got to the location half an hour before the meet. It was dark already, so I left the headlights on.

“Jerry?” I called, getting out of the car.

No answer.

“Don’t fuck around, Jerry,” I called. “I’m here, I’m alone, and we have to get out of here!”

If Jerry wasn’t there I didn’t know what I’d do. If somebody had been good enough to sneak up on him and grab him, what chance did I-

“What’s up, Mr. G.?” Jerry asked, coming out of the remnants of the house. “I thought-”

“I changed my mind, Jerry,” I said. “I’m not as interested in helping Sammy as I was before.”

“Why not? What’s changed?”

“I’ll tell you in the car,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”

He started toward the car, then said, “I think it’s too late.” He pointed.

I turned and saw headlights in the distance.

“Damn it!”

I ran to the rental car and doused the lights. Jerry was still staring at the road.

“More than one car,” he said.

“I think those cars are filled with men with murder in mind, Jerry. We’ve got to get going.”

“Where?”

“This road keeps going,” I said, although it was barely a dirt road. “I don’t know where to, but it’s better than going back.”

“Maybe not,” Jerry said, with a smile, “if you let me drive.”

I tossed him the keys. It was a better alternative than driving out into the middle of the Nevada desert at night.

We got in the car and Jerry started driving, his foot pressed to the floor. The car began gathering speed, and the headlights of the other cars were getting closer.

“We playin’ chicken?” I asked.

“That’s what we’re doin’.”

The road was narrow, only room for one car at a time. We needed the drivers of both cars to play chicken with us … and lose. If even one of them had the guts for it we’d end up in a head-on collision, because I knew Jerry wouldn’t give in.

We were leaving a thick cloud of dust behind us, which didn’t matter. It couldn’t be seen in the dark. Besides, it was all about headlights, now. We could see theirs, and they could see ours.

Jerry and I didn’t talk. He gripped the wheel fiercely and I held on for dear life. He was right to drive. With me behind the wheel we eventually would have ended up in a ditch somewhere.

“Hang on,” he finally said, as the approaching headlights loomed.

Somehow, he managed to get more speed out of our car, and suddenly the headlights ahead of us veered off, one pair to the left, the other to the right. One of them simply kept going out into the dark of the desert, but the other one hit something and flipped over. It tumbled end over end, but we didn’t stay to see where it came to rest.

I did turn to look behind us as we sped away. The car that was upright sat still, headlights on, but I could hear a wheel spinning. They were stuck.

“Are they followin’ us?” Jerry asked.

“No,” I said, turning back around. “You can slow down before you kill us.”

He slowed, but not by much.

“Wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

“I think that first guy we found in the warehouse was met and killed by somebody who was sent by the Kennedy family.”

“And the men we killed in your house?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Secret Service, CIA, or just hired muscle. Whichever, they were being directed by someone inside the administration.”

“Jesus,” Jerry said, “the President?”

“That’s the funny part,” I said. “I don’t think the President knows what’s goin’ on.”

We were back on the paved road to Reno when I told Jerry what Peter Lawford had told me.

“Somebody’s freelancin’,” he said when I was done.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean whoever was after Mr. Davis’s fifty G’s is not playin’ the game accordin’ to plan.”

“So while they’re trying to get big money from the Kennedy family,” I said, “somebody else decided to make a quick fifty grand on the side?”

“And got killed for it.”

“The guy in the warehouse,” I said.

“I still think his own people killed him,” Jerry said, “for pullin’ this stunt.”

“But I got another note after he was killed.”

“So he’s got friends,” Jerry said. “That dame who came to your room, and her boyfriend.”

“They might be dead, too.”

“If I was makin’ the big play,” he said, “I’d kill anybody who was pissin’ in my pot.”

“So we’ve got blackmailers killin’ blackmailers, and government hit men killin’ people,” I said. “All the more reason for us to just get out. I mean, look what just happened back there. If we’d gone there for a meet, we’d be dead.”

“Mr. G.,” he said, “if there are hitters in town-private or government-I might be able to find out.”

“I’m lookin’ to back out of this whole business, Jerry,” I said. “I don’t think I want you to make any calls. Let’s wait and see what happens after I talk to Sammy.”

We drove in silence until we saw the lights of Reno.

“You saved my ass again, Mr. G.,” Jerry said. “Comin’ out there for me. I ain’t gonna forget it.”

“That’s okay, Jerry,” I said. “I think we’re about even.”