It Was a Very Bad Year

THIRTY-FIVE

‘Frank,’ I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.

‘I went back to Palm Springs for the weekend and got the call there. They took him from Harrah’s in Tahoe last night. He was performing with Tommy Dorsey.’

‘What do they want?’

‘They haven’t said, yet. They did say they’d call me here.’

‘Did they tell you not to call the police? Or the FBI?’

‘No, they never said a word about that. I called Mickey, and he insisted we call the FBI.’

‘So they’re gonna call here and tell you how much they want,’ I said. ‘Frank. . how much can you cover?’

‘I’d give them a million if they give me Frankie back.’

‘Can you get that much?’

‘I already talked to my banker, Al Hart. He’s President of City National Bank of Beverly Hills. He’ll let me have whatever I need.’

‘Well, you’ve got the FBI, your manager, and your lawyer-’

‘Jilly and Jack will be here soon.’

Jilly Rizzo was one of Frank’s best friends, as was Jack Entratter. It made sense they’d be there.

‘OK, so with all those guys here,’ I asked, ‘why am I here?’

Frank stood up. He switched the roll of dimes to his left hand, and put his right on my arm.

‘When they make their demand I want you to make the drop, Eddie.’

‘Me? Make the pay off? But. . why?’

‘Because I trust you,’ Frank said. ‘You’ve proven to me time and again that I can trust you. You get things done.’

‘Frank. . don’t you think this is somethin’ the cops or FBI should handle?’

‘No.’ He slapped me on the arm, then flipped the dimes back to his right hand. ‘It’s your kind of job, Eddie.’

He sat back down by the phone.

The door opened and Mickey Rudin stuck his head in.

‘They’re here, Frank.’

‘Bring ’em in,’ Frank said.

‘And the FBI?’

‘No,’ Frank said, ‘all you guys stay out in the hall a little longer.’

Rudin nodded, backed out. The room was significantly larger with the other men out in the hall, but this was hardly the caliber of place Frank Sinatra usually stayed in. This was a weekend warrior’s room, the folks who came to Reno to make a killing at the casinos during their vacation. Double bed, end table with phone, dresser, ice bucket and glasses, one cheap armchair and a TV. Not much more.

The door opened and Jack Entratter entered, followed by Jilly Rizzo. Jack filled the room with his bulk, but Jilly hardly took up any. They both rushed to Frank, who barely had time to stand before they were hugging him.

‘Anythin’ you want done, Frank, just say the word,’ Jack told him.

‘Same here, buddy,’ Jilly said.

‘I know I can count on you guys,’ Frank said. ‘It’s those clowns in the hall I ain’t so sure about.’

‘Are we keepin’ this quiet, Frank?’

‘We’re not lettin’ it out,’ Frank said, ‘but it’ll get out. It’s too damn big not to.’

‘Biggest kidnapping since the Lindbergh baby,’ Jack said.

I thought about that for a minute, then figured he just might be right.

Jack looked at me, ‘Thanks for comin’, Eddie.’

‘I figured you knew.’

‘Frank asked for you, but he didn’t tell me why.’

He and Jilly both looked at Frank.

‘He wants me to make the pay-off,’ I said.

Jack thought a moment, then said, ‘Well, why not? He knows he can trust you.’

I had expected Jack to maybe get upset that Frank hadn’t asked him to deliver the money, so his reaction surprised — and pleased — me.

‘Do we know how much they want?’ Jilly asked.

‘No,’ Frank said. ‘They haven’t made that call yet.’

‘How did this happen?’ Jack asked.

‘We heard from Joe Foss, one of Dorsey’s musicians. He was in the room with Frankie when the kidnappers knocked on the door, pretending to be from room service. They tied Foss up at gunpoint and took Frankie out. Foss got loose and called the cops. They put up road blocks right away, but they came up empty. I heard from Tino — ’ That was Tino Barzie, Frank’s manager who was also handling Frankie — ‘in Palm Springs. Then I got a call and a guy told me they had Frankie, and I was to come here and wait for their call.’

‘That’s it?’ Jack asked.

‘That’s it.’

The door opened again and this time it was Bill Raggio who came in.

‘Mr Sinatra, we need to talk.’

‘Yeah, yeah, OK, come on in,’ Frank said. He looked at all three of us and said, ‘I got you rooms on this floor. These bozos will show you where.’

The bozos in question were the FBI agents. One of them told the other three to show us to our rooms, as Raggio, Rudin and Mahoney once again surrounded Frank.

Jack, Jilly and I walked down the hall with the three FBI men. We each had a room, identical to Frank’s.

‘Can we get room service?’ Jack asked.

‘Tell me what you want,’ one FBI man said, ‘and I’ll have it brought up.’

‘A bottle of bourbon, and some ice.’

‘Comin’ up.’

‘You guys join me in my room in a few minutes,’ Jack said.

Jilly and I both nodded, and went into our rooms. I had only brought one change of clothes, so I didn’t bother unpacking. I went to the bathroom, ran some cold water, washed my face, then left and went to Jack’s room.