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Authors: Robert J. Randisi

Tags: #Suspense

Fly Me to the Morgue (28 page)

BOOK: Fly Me to the Morgue
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She opened the door and gave me that phony look of relief, again. I realized she was probably sorry she'd ever laid eyes on me and Jerry the day we went out to Red Rock with Bing Crosby. She'd been forced to deal with us, so now she probably thought she was doing so for the last time.
‘Where's Jerry?'
‘I told you yesterday. He has his own job to do. Come on, let's go.'
On the way down in the elevator I asked, ‘Have you heard from Vince today?'
‘No, nothing.'
I didn't believe her; but then we were at the point in our ‘relationship' where I didn't believe anything she said.
We left the building, got into my Caddy and drove to the northern end of the Strip, to the deserted site of the soon-to-be Westward Ho Motel and Casino.
We got out of the car and looked around.
‘Why are we so early?' she asked. ‘Vince won't be here till nine.'
‘Don't kid yourself,' I said. ‘He's here now.'
As if to make a liar out of me a black limo pulled into the parking lot from the other end. It stopped about fifty feet away. I looked around. The only place a man with a rifle could have been was on the roof of the Motel building, unless he was so confident that he was positioned across the street on a higher building. An expert shot could probably have taken my head off from somewhere in the Riviera or the Stardust.
The limo stopped. The driver's side door opened and a man got out. He walked to the back and opened the door. Two more men got out. They all had normal sized noses.
‘So much for meeting us alone,' I said.
‘What do you want to do?' she asked. ‘Run?'
It was almost as if she was baiting me.
‘No,' I said, ‘we'll see it through.'
The last person out of the car was Vince DeStefano. He was easily the shortest person in the parking lot. He and Adrienne together would have attracted a lot of curious eyes.
One of the men waved at us to walk over.
‘Wow,' I said, ‘he's really trying to call the shots after agreeing to meet when and where we said.'
‘Should we walk?'
‘Oh yeah, no point in playing hard to get now. But stay on my right.' That put the Westward Ho on my left.
‘Why?'
‘If there's a guy with a rifle, I'm thinking he's on the roof of the motel. I don't want you between him and me.'
‘How gallant.'
First she tried to bait me, then a little hint of sarcasm, and all a little too soon, I thought. I still could have jumped in my Caddy and gotten out of there. Then Vince would've given her hell.
I was tempted, just to screw with her.
As we got close I could see the smile on Vince's face. A man only smiles like that at a woman.
‘Adrienne,' he said.
‘Hello, Vince.'
‘Come stand beside me.'
She gave me a look then that was unmistakable. It said ‘sucker' as she walked over to stand beside her man. He put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. She had to duck her head to make it easier for him.
‘Wow, you two make an odd couple.'
DeStefano laughed.
‘I know you had her, Eddie, but she's mine. Make no mistake about that.'
‘Should we frisk him, boss?' one of the men asked. It was the same guy who had searched me at the house.
‘Eddie doesn't carry, but go ahead.'
The guy gave me the same kind of careless frisk he'd given me at the house. Armpits, waist, legs and ankles. Jerry had been right. They missed Frank's gun, which I had tucked into my belt at the small of my back.
‘OK, Eddie,' DeStefano said, ‘where's Epstein?'
‘He's around.'
‘I've got four other men spread around this place,' he said. ‘You'll never see him alive again.'
‘We'll see.'
He looked at Adrienne.
‘What about the key?'
‘Eddie was right,' she said. ‘Phil mailed it to Elizabeth. She's sending it back to me.'
‘Good. Then we don't need Eddie anymore, do we?'
SEVENTY-SIX
I almost went for the gun in my belt, but it was too soon. He hadn't said anything incriminating, yet.
‘So, it's been you and Adrienne all along, huh, Vince?' I asked. ‘She needed her brother out of the way, so she came to you.'
He tightened his arm around her waist.
‘You're a Vegas guy, ain't you, Eddie?' he asked.
‘Depends on what you mean by that?'
‘Women,' he said. ‘You go through lots of women, don't ya? You ain't got just one.'
‘No, I don't.'
‘Well, I do,' he said, squeezing her again, possessively. ‘And that means somethin' to me.'
Man, I thought, she really had him wrapped around her little finger.
‘It means you kill when she wants you to?'
‘It means,' he said, with feeling, ‘you do whatever she wants you to do, no matter what.'
‘Like killin' her brothers?'
‘Eddie,' he said, ‘I'd kill her mother if she wanted me to.'
‘Aw, honey,' Adrienne said, ‘my mother's dead, but thank you.'
Wow, I thought, he's henpecked and she's crazy.
‘What about the trainer?' I asked. ‘Why was he killed?'
‘That was kind of an accident,' he said. ‘My men were just supposed to hold him until after the deal for the horse was made with Crosby. We just didn't want him havin' an expert with him.'
‘And then you and your goon showed up,' Adrienne said.
‘So Chris and Red Stanley were killed because of the horse,' I said. ‘Why'd you have Phil killed?'
‘Like you said,' DeStefano said, ‘my lady asked.'
‘What about it, Adrienne?' I asked. ‘Why Phil?'
‘The key,' she said. ‘The idiot wouldn't give it up.'
‘And what's in the box?'
‘That's none of your business,' she said, then leaned over and kissed DeStefano on the cheek. ‘I'm bored, hon.'
‘Eddie,' he said, ‘all I have to do is raise my arm and you're dead.'
‘The man with the big nose?' I asked.
‘So you saw him that day,' he said. ‘Yeah, he's pretty good with a rifle. You won't feel a thing. I promise.'
Grinning, he lifted his arm. Then he frowned.
‘Bang,' I said, and pulled Frank's gun from behind my back.
It all happened so fast. The other three men went for their guns. In all the situations I'd found myself in with Jerry over the past three years, I hadn't shot anybody. In this instance, I had no time to think. I pulled the trigger.
One man went down. He had pulled his gun first, but when the bullet hit him it flung his hands over his head and his gun went flying. Before I could do anything there were shots and the other two men fell dead on the parking lot surface.
‘Hold it, Vince!' someone shouted.
DeStefano had been going for his belt. He stopped short as uniformed cops suddenly appeared from nowhere, led by Detective Hargrove and his partner. I saw another man following them, carrying a shotgun microphone. Hopefully, they'd gotten every word.
‘Gimme the gun, Eddie,' Hargrove said.
I handed it to him, wondering how mad Frank would be if I didn't get it back?
‘You missed, Mr G.' Jerry told me later.
‘What?'
We were at the Sands, taking the elevator to go up and see Bing and Kathryn Crosby, just hours after the business in the Westward Ho parking lot. I was trying to stop shaking. I'd never shot anyone before. This was the first time . . . or so I'd thought.
‘I pulled the trigger,' I said. ‘Point blank range.'
‘You took out one of the limo's headlights.'
‘Then how—'
‘I got the first guy with the rifle I took off the shooter.'
Jerry had not only snuck up on the shooter, knocked him out and disarmed him, but he'd done the same to two other DeStefano men who were in hiding. Vince had lied when he said he had four more men. Now I was finding out that Jerry was also a dead shot with a rifle.
‘Good thing you're an expert with a rifle,' I said.
‘Actually, I'm not real good with rifles. Just handguns.'
‘But—'
‘He would've outdrew you,' Jerry said. ‘I had to take the shot.'
‘So, you were . . . lucky?'
‘No,' he said, ‘you were.'
The cops had taken out the other DeStefano men when they continued to go for their guns even after the cops had identified themselves. I didn't remember it that way, but there was yelling and shooting going on, so maybe I did get lucky.
When we knocked on Bing's door Kathryn opened it and invited us in with a smile.
‘What ho, men?' Bing asked from behind the bar. ‘News?' He was wearing one of his golf shirts. Kathryn was wearing a peach-colored silk blouse, white pants and heels. She had her hair up in a bun and smelled like she was right out of a bath.
‘Good news,' I said. ‘You can leave whenever you want.'
‘You found the killer?' Kathryn asked.
‘We got him this mornin', with the help of the police,' I said.
‘I'll make drinks and you tell us the whole story.'
‘OK, but make mine a club soda.'
The three of them had martinis while I explained what had happened, and why.
‘So you solved it,' Kathryn said, ‘and handed it to the police. They must have been very grateful.'
I thought about seeing Hargrove the night before and the hours it took us to explain everything and convince him we were right. He hated to pass up a chance to jail us, but it was worth it to him to nail Vince DeStefano.
‘We want to show those Chicago gangsters they can't come to Vegas and run wild,' he'd said.
Not outside the casino business anyway, I thought.
‘So what's in the deposit box?' Kathryn asked.
‘We don't know,' I said. ‘The cops are gonna find out, but there's no guarantee Hargrove will ever let us know.'
‘What do you think?' Bing asked.
‘Papers,' I said. ‘Records of shady deals that will hurt DeStefano, or maybe prove real estate fraud. That was another business Philip Arnold was dabbling in.'
‘And what happens to the horse?' Bing asked.
‘I don't know,' I said. ‘I guess along with all the other property the Arnolds own it'll be tied up in legalities for a while.'
‘Too bad.'
‘Maybe you could buy it later, from the estate,' I suggested.
‘It would be too old by then to start it racing,' Bing said. ‘I guess we have to write this trip off as a loss.'
‘Well, you had some excitement,' Jerry said.
‘Son, at my age that's the kind of excitement I can do without.'
We shook hands with Bing, and got kissed on the cheek by Kathryn, and said our goodbyes. They'd be leaving the next day.
On the way down in the elevator Jerry said, ‘So we're never gonna know what the big deal about the key was? What's inside the box?'
‘Probably not,' I said. ‘Hargrove is not the sharing kind.'
Maybe, I thought, some day I'd get the answer from him . . .
EPILOGUE
Las Vegas, December 2004
. . .
but it never happened.
Hargrove stayed a bastard till the day he dropped dead of a heart attack at sixty. And I always had an open invitation to a cell. Luckily, that never happened either.
Danny and I watched a DVD, Frank smiling while he sang with Mitzi Gaynor, then Frank, Dino and Crosby with Mitzi. Then he said he had to get back to Penny before she sent out a search party.
I walked him to the door.
‘Thanks, Danny,' I said. ‘That sure brings back a lot of memories.'
‘Like when Bing tried to buy that horse?'
‘Yeah,' I said, ‘still burns my ass that Hargrove never told us what was in that box.'
‘What?' He was looking at me funny.
‘The safe deposit box,' I said. ‘We never found out what was in it.'
‘Jeez, Eddie,' he said. ‘Hargrove told me that the next time I saw him. I-I thought you knew.'
Now I looked at him funny.
‘What the hell's wrong with you? I've only been bellyachin' about that for years.'
Danny shrugged.
‘I guess I just thought—'
‘Well, what was it?' I asked. ‘What was in it?'
‘Papers,' he said, with a shrug. ‘Deeds to prime real estate that got turned into casinos later. They woulda made a killin' if they hadn't gone to jail – or in Phil's case, died.'
‘Jesus,' I said, disappointed. ‘That's just about what I figured.'
‘So what's the big deal, then?'
‘I just thought . . . maybe it'd be somethin' . . . ya know, big.'
He punched me in the arm and said, ‘I gotta go, Eddie. Merry Christmas.'
‘Merry Christmas. Give Penny my love.'
He nodded, and left. I walked back to the sofa, sat down and picked up the remote. I was going to watch the DVD again when the phone rang.
‘Hello.'
‘Hey, Boss,' Jerry said. ‘Merry Christmas.'
‘Well, well, another early Christmas visit from a friend. Happy Hanukkah, buddy.'
‘Who beat me to it?'
‘Danny was just here. Brought me a DVD of the Frank Sinatra Show for Christmas. He and Penny are gonna be out of town when the big day comes.'
BOOK: Fly Me to the Morgue
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