You're nobody 'til somebody kills you

Forty-eight

George came down to meet us when we pulled into Frank’s place. He must have gotten the construction guys to take the day off, or go to an early lunch. It was quiet as we got out of the cars.

“George Jacobs,” I said, “these are Detectives Stanze and Bailey.”

“How do you do,” George said. “Mr. Sinatra is waiting by the pool. Follow me, please.”

“Don’t shit your pants when you meet him,” Bailey said to Stanze in a stage whisper.

“Shut up, Dave.”

We all followed George up the stairs to the pool. When Frank saw us coming he stood up. He was wearing an expensive-looking short-sleeved shirt, gray slacks and white boat shoes.

“Hey, Eddie,” Frank said. “Jerry. How ya doin’?”

“We’re doin’ good, Frank,” I said. “This is Detective Stanze, and his partner Detective Bailey.”

“The gents who want my statement,” Frank said. He extended his hand. “Welcome.”

“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Sinatra,” Stanze said, almost stammering. “I–I have all your albums.”

“All of ‘em? That’s a lot of vinyl, kid.”

“Mr. Sinatra,” Bailey said respectfully.

“Pull up a lounge chair. Anybody want a drink? Some coffee, maybe?”

“Coffee’d be good,” Bailey said.

“Yes, fine,” Stanze agreed.

“George, bring coffee all around,” Frank said.

“Yes, sir.”

Frank’s valet went to get the coffee and we all grabbed lounge chairs. Everybody sat down but me.

“Frank, where’s Marilyn?”

“She’s inside, Eddie. Waitin’ in the living room. I had George give her some tea when she got here.”

“I’ll go and sit with her,” I said. “I don’t want her gettin’ nervous.”

“Sure,” Frank said. “I’ll talk to the detective out here and then bring them inside.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Stanze said. “Why don’t I go with you, Eddie, and my partner can talk to Mr. Sinatra. If we work it this way we’ll be out of here sooner.”

“I don’t want you scarin’ her,” I said.

And he didn’t want me cooking up a story with her.

“I’ll be real nice,” Stanze said.

“Okay,” I said, “okay, come on.”

I looked at Jerry, who just nodded that he’d stay right where he was.

Marilyn saw us coming into the living room. On the coffee table in front of her was a tray with a china cup and teapot. She almost ran to me but when she saw Stanze she stopped herself.

“Marilyn,” I said, “how’re you doin’?”

“Okay, Eddie,” she said.

“You remember Detective Stanze,” I said.

“Miss Monroe,” Stanze said. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Detective.”

She was wearing what I had come to realize she always relaxed in-jeans and a sweatshirt.

“Can we sit down, Miss Monroe?” he asked. “I won’t take long. I just need to ask a few questions.”

“Of course, Detective,” she said. “I want to be as helpful as I can.”

They sat down. I was about to join them when Stanze looked up at me.

“Miss Monroe, do you suppose we could talk without Eddie in the room? Would that be okay?”

“Well …” She looked up at me and I nodded. “All right.”

“We’ll come out by the pool, Eddie, when we’re done,” Stanze said.

“Sure, Detective, sure.”

I left the living room, but instead of going out by the pool I turned and went into the kitchen. George was putting the coffeepot and some cups on a tray.

“You need any help, George?”

“No, sir,” George said, “but thank you.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t you worry, Mr. Gianelli,” George said, picking up the tray. “Mr. S. will only tell them what they need to know.”

“That’s all I want him to do, George,” I said. “There isn’t anythin’ else to tell.”

“Yes, sir,” George said. “Whatever you say. You comin’ out for coffee?”

“Yeah, George,” I said, “I’ll be there in a minute. Mind if I use the phone?”

“Go right ahead.”

He left with the tray and I dialed Fred Otash’s number. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him the day before when we got back from the police station.

“Mr. Otash is not in at the moment, Mr. Gianelli,” Leona said.

“Can I leave him a message?” I asked.

I heard her sigh heavily. What did she have against me anyway? “Oh, all right. What’s the message?”

“Tell him we’re out of town but will be back later today,” I told her. “I’ll call him as soon as we get back.”

“You’re out of town,” she said, “and what?”

I repeated the message to her and she repeated it back as she wrote it down. Apparently, Fred Otash had not hired her for her secretarial skills.

“Okay,” she said, “I got it, Mr. Gianelli.”

“Thank you, Leona.”

“My name’s Miss Deeds, Mr. Gianelli,” she said. “Please remember that.”

“I will, Miss Deeds,” I said, “I will.”