It Was a Very Bad Year

SEVENTY-THREE

We stepped inside, closing the door behind us. Irwin may not have spent much money on the worn outer shell of the place, but the inside was air-conditioned. My soaked shirt immediately felt like a coat of ice on me.

We moved down a short hall, which led to a longer one that ran the center of the extension. Jerry peered out to be sure we were clear, then waved me on with his left hand as he stepped out. At any minute a girl and her john could come walking up or down the hall. We quickly moved to the door of the office. Jerry grabbed the knob, turned it and the door opened. We sprang into the room; I pulled the door closed behind, quickly, without slamming it.

‘What the hell is it now?’ Irwin demanded from the sofa. ‘Can’t a guy catch a nap-’

He stopped when Jerry put the barrel of his.45 to Irwin’s cheek.

‘What the fuck?’ Irwin said.

I moved around so he could see me. When he did, he craned his head against the pressure of the.45 and saw Jerry.

‘Fuck me,’ he said.

‘That’s exactly what we’re here to do, Barney,’ I said.

‘Hey, guys, look,’ Irwin said, ‘there’s no hard feelins-’

‘Cut the crap, Barney,’ I said. ‘You tried to have us killed, and we saw what’s in your storage unit. So cut the crap.’

Irwin looked at me and asked, ‘Can I sit up?’

‘Let him up, Jerry.’

Jerry moved the barrel of the gun far enough to let Irwin upright.

‘You guys are in trouble,’ Irwin said, his entire attitude doing a one-eighty. ‘You don’t think I’m here without back-up, do you?’

‘We don’t care,’ Jerry said, ‘We seen the kinda help you hire.’

Irwin looked at Jerry, then surprised me by smiling.

‘You’re right, of course,’ he said. ‘Maybe you’d consider coming to work for me?’

‘Sorry,’ Jerry said, ‘I don’t work for guys who wear white shoes.’

Irwin looked down at his feet, still smiling.

‘Barney,’ I said, ‘you know who Jerry is and what he does, right?’

‘Oh yeah,’ Irwin said, ‘I checked him out after that day in the warehouse.’

‘Then you know he’d kill you.’

‘Yes.’

‘Then get up,’ I said. ‘We’re walkin’ out of here. And if you make a ruckus, Jerry’s gonna pull the trigger of that forty-five. It might even blow your head completely off your shoulders.’

‘I doubt that, Eddie,’ Irwin said, ‘but I’m sure it would blow the top of my head off, so I get your point.’

He stood up. Now that he wasn’t playing the lecherous photographer he even stood differently.

‘Where we goin’?’ he asked.

‘I’m gonna deliver you to a detective named Hargrove,’ I said. ‘With the Las Vegas PD.’

‘You can’t prove anything.’

‘That’s his job,’ I said. ‘He’s gonna prove that you either killed Wayne or had him killed. I’m sure he’ll get one or both of the Rienza brothers to admit you hired them to kill me. He won’t be able to prove you sent three hoods to Brooklyn to kill Jerry. But he will be able to prove that you were involved in the kidnapping of Frank Sinatra Jr. In fact, he might even prove you planned the whole thing.’

‘What?’ He’d still been grinning until I mentioned the kidnapping. ‘What the hell? That was my brother’s thing, not mine.’

‘We found the floor plan of Harrah’s in your storage unit, Barney,’ I said. ‘And a note in your desk drawer. Silly of you to keep those things.’

‘None of it,’ Irwin said. ‘You can’t prove any of it.’

‘I only told him I’d deliver you,’ I said. ‘Proving anythin’ is his job. Let’s go.’

‘You heard him,’ Jerry said.

‘The Rienzas are here, you know,’ Irwin said. ‘With a couple of the girls.’

‘Let’s hope they stay busy,’ I said. ‘For their benefit as much as yours.’

Irwin patted his pockets, as if he’d forgotten something, then looked around.

‘You won’t need a jacket,’ I said. ‘Let’s go, out the side door.’

He nodded, and headed for the door. Jerry put his hand out to stop him, went to the door first. He looked out, then waved us to follow. He kept his gun in his hand.

We could hear girls laughing and men moaning, but we made it out the side door without running into anyone. We headed to the front of the building, intending to walk him to my car. But as we passed the front door it opened and a Rienza brother stepped out.

‘Hey, boss, where you goin’-’ he started to shout, but then he saw Jerry.

‘Get ’em!’ Irwin shouted, and dropped to the ground.

The other Rienza came through the door and they both pulled their guns.

‘Jerry, get down!’ I yelled, but he had a gun and I didn’t. Jerry knocked me down, then turned to face the Rienzas in what seemed like an Old West gunfight.