You're nobody 'til somebody kills you

Twenty-one

"Hello, Jerry,” Marilyn SAID pleasantly. She walked up to him and put out her hand. Jerry still didn’t say a word, but he shook her hand, engulfing it in his.

“Eddie told me you’re a big fan.”

“Uhh, yes, ma’am.”

“I’m always so happy to meet a real fan.”

“Oh, I’m a real fan, ma’am,” Jerry assured her. “I loved you as Kay in River of No Return and as Cherie in Bus Stop.”

“Bus Stop,” she said. “That was hard. I got bronchitis during the filming, but I did perfect that Texas-Oklahoma twang.”

“You sure did,” Jerry said. “That was a great performance.”

“River of No Return was a bad movie,” she said, “but I loved working with Robert Mitchum.”

“It may not have been a good movie,” Jerry said, “but it’s one of my favorites.”

“You’re sweet,” she said, and then looked at me. “I like him.”

“That’s good,” I said, “because he’s gonna be around for a while.”

“He is?”

“I am?” Jerry asked.

“Before we get to that, Marilyn, do you know a man named Danny Bardini?”

She frowned, putting a pretty little wrinkle in the smooth skin of her forehead.

“No, I don’t. Should I?”

“He’s a friend of mine, a private eye,” I said. “He was keepin’ an eye on you for me.”

“Following me?”

“Only from Tahoe to here,” I said.

“I thought you were going to help me,” she said, “not some friend of yours.”

“Mr. G. had to go to a funeral,” Jerry said, before I could say a word. “His mother died.”

“Oh, Eddie.” She put her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” I said. “I only had Danny watching you until I got back.”

“Well, he never came up to me,” she said.

“Did you feel someone was watching you these past few days?” I asked.

“Well, I did … maybe it was him?”

“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe he saw who was watching you.”

“Can you ask him?”

“That’s just it,” I said. “He’s missing.”

“Missing?” she asked. “W-what does it mean?”

“It means I think Jerry should stay in your guesthouse until I find out what’s going on.”

“What about you?” Jerry asked. “You need me to watch your back.”

“Jerry, right now I think I need you to watch out for Marilyn,” I said. “If somethin’ happened to Danny-”

“Can’t you stay, Eddie?” Marilyn asked, grabbing my arm.

“I’ll come back,” I promised. “It may take me a few days to find Danny, but I’ll come back each night. Meanwhile, Jerry will stay with you. Are you working right now?”

“No, we’re still having some problems with that script, so I’m just … staying around here.”

And drinking, I thought, maybe worse. I’d have to have Jerry keep an extra-careful eye on her.

“Can’t Jerry look for your friend?”

“No,” I said, “he’s my friend, my responsibility. I sent him here. If anything’s happened to him it’s my fault.”

Marilyn looked from me to Jerry and dropped her hand from my arm.

“All right, Eddie,” she said, in a little girl’s voice. “Whatever you say.”

“Jerry, let’s get your suitcase from the car.”

“Okay, Mr. G.”

It wasn’t a two-man job, but he knew I wanted to talk to him outside.

At the car I said, “I’m gonna go and talk to the local cops.”

“And you don’t want me along?”

“I know you don’t think the cops do any good, Jerry, but I’ve got to find out if anything happened to Danny. He could be in jail, or …”

“Or the morgue.”

“Right.”

“Okay, Mr. G.,” he said, “but you call if you need me.”

“Let’s go back inside. I’ll take down Marilyn’s number, and we’ll see if the guesthouse has a phone. Also, you can take a look around the grounds, see if it looks like anyone’s been here.”

“Okay, Mr. G.”

“Jerry,” I asked, “didn’t we talk about you callin’ me Eddie?”

“Yeah, Mr. G.,” he said, “we talked about it.”