You're nobody 'til somebody kills you

Two

I was back in my pit ten minutes when Jack Entratter approached.

“Jack,” I said, as he reached me, “what are you doing around so late?”

“What’s late?” he said, shrugging his shoulders, adjusting his jacket. “I’m here all the time, Eddie, you know that.”

He was, and he wasn’t. Jack was around whenever he wanted to be. He had a house, but he also had a room in the hotel. In fact, his mother had a room, too.

But he was on the floor, and at my pit, and it was almost midnight. This was not normal.

“Listen,” he said, “Frank, Dean and Sammy will be here tomorrow. They want you to have dinner with them tomorrow night. That ain’t a problem, is it?”

“No, Jack,” I said, “that’s not a problem.”

“Good,” he said, “good, Eddie.” He patted me on the shoulder. Now, that was unusual.

“Anything else, Jack?”

Jack hesitated. Something was on his mind, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to bring it up.

“Well … my nephew’s comin’ to town,” he said. “Richard. You’ve never met him.”

“No, I haven’t.” I hadn’t even known Jack had a nephew.

“Yeah, well … you’ll get your chance. I want to show the kid a good time.”

“What’s the kid’s game? Or do you want a girl-”

“No, no,” Jack said, “nothin’ like that, Eddie. He’s a good kid. Not old enough to gamble, and my sister would kill me if I fixed him up … you know.”

“Oh, I get it, Jack.”

“Yeah.” He looked around, shrugged his shoulders again. “I ain’t really that sure how to entertain him, ya know?”

“There’s a lot to do in Vegas, Jack,” I said. “I’ll get him a ticket for the show.”

“That’ll be good,” he said. “My sister, she loves Frank.”

I didn’t want to say that his nephew might like somebody like Paul Anka, or Fabian, better.

“Uh, Jack, I’m going to need the chopper tomorrow morning, and some time off.”

“Time off? For what?”

“Dean wants to go to Tahoe.”

“You saw Dino?”

“Tonight,” I said. “He dealt some blackjack, and then we had a drink.”

“He’s here early,” Jack said.

“Yeah.”

“Well … his suite’s always waitin’ for him.”

“I know that.”

“What’s he want to go to Tahoe for?”

“I’m not really sure.”

“Okay,” he said, scratching his cheek, “okay, yeah, sure, take ‘im to Tahoe. Let him do what he wants to do.”

“Sure, Jack.”

Jack looked around, didn’t seem like he wanted to walk away.

“Hey, boss, what’s goin’ on?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re … distracted.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, “I’ve been talkin’ to my sister, and my mother … Richard gets in tomorrow morning. I gotta pick him up at the airport …”

“Did you want me to pick him up?” I asked. “Was that what you were gonna ask me?”

“Naw, naw, Eddie,” he said, “I wouldn’t ask ya to do that. You ain’t a chauffeur. Besides, my sister and my mother would both have my ass if I didn’t pick him up myself.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to get them mad at me.”

“No, believe me,” he said, “you wouldn’t. I’m gonna take a walk around the place, Eddie. When do you get off?”

“Three.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then-stop in whenever you get back from Tahoe. I’d like to know what’s goin’ on.”

“Sure, Jack.”

“See ya, Eddie.”

“Later, boss.”

I watched him as he wandered around the room. He stopped and spoke to some of the players, didn’t talk to any of the other employees he came across, except for a pretty waitress. Jack liked to keep the Sands stocked with waitresses, hatcheck girls and cigarette girls who looked like they belonged on stage.

Once Jack left the casino floor I relaxed a bit and was able to go back to work. Kind of. I guess I was also wondering what Dean wanted to show me in Tahoe.

Or who.