Hey There (You with the Gun in Your Hand)

Fifty-six

I didn’t want to seem money hungry, but I also didn’t want Joe Kennedy to think I was a fool, or that I came cheap. If you undervalued yourself people would have no choice but to do the same.

So we hashed out prices-for me and for Jerry-before Numbers One and Two drove me back to Harrah’s. They pulled up in front and stopped the car just barely long enough to give me back the.38 and let me out.

When I got to my room I immediately called Jerry. He said things were fine with Sammy, and he’d be going on stage in a little while. I told him what had happened and he said he’d be right over. I let him in as soon as he knocked.

“They were waiting for me and took me for a little ride.”

Jerry’s eyebrows went up. “And they brought you back?”

“Yes, after I had a very interesting conversation.”

“With who?”

“Joseph Kennedy.”

“Yer shittin’ me! The President’s father?”

“In the flesh.”

“What did he want?”

“He wanted to make a deal,” I said, and relayed both the conversation and the agreement we had come to.

“So it’s up to you and me?” he asked.

“It’s supposed to be up to you and me,” I said. “We’ll have to see about that.”

“But you’re gonna stay with it?”

I took out two cream-colored envelopes and passed one over to him.

“We’re both stayin’ with it.”

Jerry opened the envelope, rifled through the bills, saw that they were all hundreds.

“How much is here?” he asked.

“Ten grand.”

“For me?”

“And that one?” He indicated the envelope in my hand.

“Mine.”

“The same amount?”

“Yes,” I lied. No point telling him I’d only taken five thousand up front. “There’ll be a bonus if we can deliver the goods.”

“The goods being a picture of President Kennedy doin’ somethin’ illegal?”

“Doin’ somethin’ he shouldn’t be doin’,” I said, “but I can’t say it’s illegal. I can’t even say what it is because I wasn’t told.”

“We’ll know it when we see it.”

“If we see it,” I said, “and I’m still not sure I want to.”

“I don’t care what he’s doin’ in the picture,” Jerry said. “I didn’t even vote for ’im. So whatta we do? Buy it and not look at it?”

“If we can buy the entire roll of film, we’ll be able to do just that.”

“You’re figurin’ if we see the picture they’ll kill us, too?”

“Somebody might try,” I said, “but according to Joe Kennedy nobody workin’ for him will try it. He gave his word.”

Jerry laughed. “The word of a politician?”

“Yeah, I know. We can trust him about as far as we can throw him.”

“Why are ya doin’ it then, Mr. G.?”

I thought about the question. The money? The flag? To finish up a favor for Sammy?

“I kinda liked JFK when I met him last year,” I said, finally. “I got the feeling running for President wasn’t somethin’ he wanted to do. I think he’s lettin’ his father run his life-or ruin it.”

“Ruin it? How can bein’ President of the United States ruin your life?”

“I got the feelin’ when Kennedy was here last year he had interests other than … politics.”

“Like broads?”

“Like havin’ a good time,” I said. “That can mean women, it can mean a lot of things. But when Joe Kennedy lost his oldest son, Jack’s wants and needs suddenly came second. Now Jack is President and he’s got all the headaches that come with it. I figure the last thing he needs is some photo showin’ up in the papers givin’ him more.”

Jerry studied me for a few moments, then tucked the envelope full of money into his inside jacket pocket.

“I like the way you put all that, Mr. G.,” he told me, “so I’m in, too.”