Fly Me to the Morgue (17 page)
âFor what?'
âThere's one road in here and one road out, Jerry,' I reminded him.
âRight,' he said. âWe could catch him.'
âYou go get the car.'
âWhat are you gonna do?'
âGo up in the hay loft and see if I can spot his dust.'
âOK. I'll pull the car over there.'
I ran into the barn and up the ladder to the loft. When I looked out I spotted a cloud of dust in the distance. Jerry pulled the Caddy up right in front.
âAnything?' he shouted.
âI'm comin' down.'
I considered jumping down into the seat from the loft, like in the movies, but in the end I chickened out. I hurried down from the loft by the ladder and got in the car.
âGo!' I said. âMaybe we can catch up to him.'
He turned the Caddy in our own cloud of dust and took off down the road.
FORTY-FOUR
Jerry had the pedal to the metal and, from the look on his face, he was loving it.
We were kicking up so much of our own dust it was hard to see any clouds ahead of us, even though we were leaving most of ours behind.
âI think we're gainin' on him!' Jerry shouted.
He took his .45 out and put it in his lap.
âWe get close to him you might have to take the wheel, Mr G.'
âIf we kill him,' I said, âwe won't be able to ask who sent him.'
âSo we'll try not to kill 'im.'
I stared ahead through the windshield, trying to see if we were catching up to him or not. Jerry had to run the windshield wipers from time to time to get the dirt off but it only seemed to be making it worse. I tried leaning my head out so I could look around the windshield, but I only ended up with sand in my eyes.
âJerry.'
âWhat?'
âI don't think we're gaining.'
âWe'll be at the highway soon,' he said. âLet's see what happens then.'
What happened when we got to Highway 159 was that we didn't know which way he had gone. Jerry came to a stop and we looked both ways.
âPick one,' he said. âWhere do they each go?'
âEither direction,' I said, âtakes you back to Vegas, eventually.'
âOK,' he said, âthen pick one.'
âThat way,' I said, pointing to the direction we had come from town.
He turned right and stepped on the gas.
âTake it easy,' I said. âWe've got Highway patrol along here. The last thing we need is to get picked up by the cops.'
âYeah, OK.'
By the time we came within sight of the city we had both long since given up the ghost.
âTell me why somebody would try to kill you,' I said to Jerry.
âMe? Why do you think they were tryin' to kill me?'
âHe shot at you, right?'
âWell . . . yeah, but maybe he thought I was you.'
âExcuse me, Jerry, but you and me, we don't look alike.'
âMaybe through a kitchen window, we do.'
âYeah, maybe,' I said. âOK, so why would anyone want to kill either of us?'
He shrugged. âI dunno.'
âThe only reason we'd be out there is if we were looking into Chris's death,' I said.
âThe shooter would hafta know we were comin', Mr G.,' he said. âHe'd hafta be waitin' there for us.'
âOK,' I said. âSo who knew we were goin' out there?'
âWell, the Vegas Dick and his girl.'
âDanny and Penny, yeah,' I said.
âAnd who else?' he asked.
âAdrienne,' I said. âShe left us the key.'
âSo she set us up?' Jerry asked.
âThat's hard to believe,' I said, âbut what else can I believe?'
âMaybe,' he said, âshe told somebody.'
I looked at him.
âLike her brother?'
âMaybe.'
âWell,' I said, âthere's only one way to find out.'
âYeah,' he said, âask her.'
âRight,' I said. âAsk her.'
FORTY-FIVE
Back at the Sands I called Adrienne's number from Jerry's suite, but got no answer.
âI'll try her again, later,' I said.
âDo we know where she lives?'
âNo,' I said. âShe only told me she'd be staying at that house.'
âSo maybe she ain't gone back, yet, and found the mess.'
âShe might think we're dead.'
âShe ain't gonna see no blood.'
âMaybe,' I said, âwhether she set us up or not, she'll call when she gets back. Maybe to see if we're dead, or to see if we're all right.'
I called the front desk, and told them where I was, told them to put through any calls for me to Jerry's suite.
âI gotta take a shower, Mr G.,' Jerry said, when I hung up. âI got sand in the crack of my ass.'
âYeah, me too.'
âYou can take a shower after me,' he said.
I started to say I'd go downstairs and do that, and change, but remembered that I hadn't replaced the clothes in my locker.
âYeah, OK.'
âSorry I ain't got anything that would fit you, Mr G.'
âThat's OK. I'll just . . . shake the sand out of my clothes.'
âI'll be quick,' he said, and went down the hall. The next moment I heard the shower.
I went to the bar and poured myself a small bourbon. I was sipping it when the phone rang.
âYeah, hello?'
âMr Gianelli? Eddie?'
âOh, hello, Adrienne.'
âWhat the hell happened out here?' she asked. âThere's broken glass all over the kitchen, and what I think are . . . bullet holes? In the wall?'
âThat's right,' I said. âJerry and I drove out, used your key to get in, and somebody took some shots at us.'
âOh my God!' she said. âAre you all right?'
âYes, we're fine.'
âDid you . . . do you know who . . . why would anyone shoot at you?' she stammered.
âI don't know, Adrienne,' I said. âJerry and I were talking about that on the way back. Only a few people knew we were gonna be out there.'
âIncluding me, right?'
âAdrienne,' I said, âdid you try to have me killed today?'
âI did not,' she said.
âDid you tell anyone I'd be out there?'
âYou said you told somebody.'
âI told my private detective friend,' I said. âI don't think he'd try to have me killed.'
âWhat about his girl?'
âShe wouldn't, either.'
âWho else did you tell?'
âNobody,' I said. âWho did you tell, Adrienne?'
She hesitated then said, âI talked to my brother, Eric.'
âIs he the accountant?'
âYes.'
âWhere?'
âIn Las Vegas.'
âHis office is here in Vegas?'
âThat's right.'
âWhere does he live?'
âHenderson.'
âWhere do you live, Adrienne?'
âHenderson.'
âIs that where you are now?'
âYes.'
âI want to talk to Eric.'
âI can arrange that.'
âToday.'
âAll right.'
âI want you to be there.'
âWhy?'
âIf somebody tries to shoot me again I want to be able to hide behind you.'
âWhy would anyoneâ'
âLet's not go there again,' I said, as Jerry came walking in, dressed in clean clothes. He made a sign to me that I took to mean âIs that her?' and I nodded.
âOK.'
âGive me your brother's address.'
âIf we go there in the next three hours he'll be in his office.'
âThat's where I'd like to talk to him.'
âAll right. One hour?'
âWhere is it?'
She gave me the address.
âMake it an hour and a half,' I said. âI need to shower and change after driving out to Red Rock to get shot at.'
âEddie, I'm so sorry . . .'
âIf you didn't shoot at us,' I said, âor hire it done, you don't need to be sorry.'
âNevertheless . . .'
âIs there a place to have coffee near your brother's office?'
âYes, right downstairs.'
âLet's meet there first,' I said. âI want to talk to you before we go up.'
âAll right.'
âI'll see you soon, Adrienne.'
âSee you, Eddie.'
I hung up.
âIf we get set up again we'll know it's her.'
âI'm gonna take a quick shower,' I said, âand then we're gonna drive over there early.'
FORTY-SIX
Eric Arnold's office building was on 7
th
Street and Bridger, a few blocks from the El Cortez Casino. I wondered if he was a gambler.
th
Street and Bridger, a few blocks from the El Cortez Casino. I wondered if he was a gambler.
I was sitting in the coffee shop downstairs when Adrienne came walking in.
âWhat'll you have?' I asked.
âCoffee and a Danish,' she said, leaning over to put her purse on the floor by her feet.
I waved the waitress over and ordered what she wanted, and asked for a warm up on mine.
âWhere's your friend?' she asked. âJerry?'
âHe's making sure nobody shoots at me.'
âEddie,' she said, âI didn't have anything to do with that.'
I stared at her for a few moments, then said, âI believe you. Can you say for sure that Eric didn't?'
âI . . . want to say no.'
âBut you can't.'
âNot for sure, no,' she said. âI mean . . . there's always a possibility, I guess.'
âYour sister didn't know anything about this, did she?'
âAbout you going out to Red Rock? Why would I tell her?'
âI don't know. Why would you tell Eric?'
âI was talking to him about Christopher, and about Philip,' she said, with a shrug. âI guess I just told him that you were going out there.'
âIf Eric had a reason to send someone to shoot me,' I said, âhe'd have a reason not to want Chris's killer caught.'
âI don't know what that reason would be.'
âHow do Philip and Eric get along?'
âLike brothers. They loved each other, they fought.'
âDoes Philip bully Eric?'
âHe did, when we were kids,' she said. âNot so much as adults . . . I guess.'
Her breakfast and my warm up came. I looked out the window. Jerry actually was somewhere out there, making sure I didn't get shot. Also checking to see if Adrienne had brought anyone with her.
She ate her pastry like a man, no delicate little bites, no breaking off little pieces. She made it look good.
We finished our coffee.
âI'm gonna go up and see Eric now.'
âOK,' she said, reaching down for her purse, âlet's go.'
âNo,' I said, âyou don't have to come.'
âYou saidâ'
âI changed my mind,' I said. âJerry's gonna come up with me.'
We went outside.
âYou sure you don't want me to come up with you?' she asked.
âNo, that's OK.'
âIs Jerry going to . . . knock him around?' she asked.
âWhat makes you think Jerry knocks people around?'
She shrugged.
âHe's big,' she said, âand he handled my brother Philip rather easily.'
âAdrienne,' I said, âbefore you go, give me your home address and phone. I want to be able to reach you.'
âOh, of course.' She fished around in her purse and handed me a business card.
âThis building is pretty close to Fremont Street and all the casinos,' I said. âIs Eric a gambler?'
âYes, he is. Blackjack, mostly.'
âWhat about Chris and Philip?'
âChris, no, Philip, yes.'
âOK,' I said. âI'll call you.'
âUm, Eddie? Don't hurt Eric . . . any more than you have to?'
âI'm hopin' not to have to hurt him at all.'
She nodded, then walked to her car, which was several store-fronts away. I watched her get in and drive away. When I looked around Jerry was crossing the street towards me.
âShe came alone,' he said, joining me on the sidewalk. âGuess you let her go because you believed her?'
âThat's right.'
âYou thinkin' with your dick, Mr G?'
âJerry, the one thing I know about my dick,' I said, âis that it never thinks.'
âYeah,' he said. âI getcha. Mine, neither. We goin' up?'
I nodded.
âWe're goin' up.'
FORTY-SEVEN
According to the building directory, Eric Arnold, certified public accountant, had offices on the 7th floor. Also on his floor were two bail-bondsmen, an importer/exporter, and a private detective agency called All Night Eyes.
âHigh class,' Jerry said.
When we entered his office, a pretty secretary or receptionist looked up at us. I'd forgotten to ask Adrienne if her brother had partners, or employees. Damn. Now this girl was going to be able to identify us.
âCan I help you gentlemen?' She had a high-pitched voice that was kind of cute.
âYes,' I said, âwe have an appointment with Mr Arnold.'
âWho shall I say is here?'
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