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Authors: Robert J. Randisi

Tags: #Suspense

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BOOK: Fly Me to the Morgue
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‘Your trainer got off a plane here yesterday, but he never got into a cab.'
‘And he never got to the hotel,' I said. ‘Then what happened to him?'
‘I asked around,' he said. ‘You know, porters, valets, drivers. If your guy was a redhead like his name implies it might've helped. You got a description of him?'
‘No,' I said, ‘I don't. Sorry. I should've asked Bing.'
‘Well, do it tomorrow, will you?' he said. ‘Then I can circulate it and see what I can come up with.'
I had the feeling somebody was speaking behind him.
‘What was that?'
‘Nothin'.'
‘You sure you're alone?'
‘Why would I lie to you?'
‘You might lie to me,' I said, ‘if Penny was there with you.'
‘It's the TV, butthead,' he said. ‘It's a beer commercial.'
‘Yeah, OK,' I said. ‘I'll talk to you tomorrow after I get that description from Bing. I'm meetin' him and Jerry in the lobby at nine.'
‘Where you off to?'
‘Red Rock Valley to look at a horse.'
‘Well, OK, but call me before you leave so I can get started. Hey, here's Cagney.'
‘Yeah, you and Penny enjoy the movie.'
‘What are you—'
I hung up with a smile on my face.
I checked in at my pit to see how my hand-picked replacement was doing. His name was Vince Elliott and he'd been a dealer at the Sands for several years. There were others who had been there longer, but Vince had shown signs right from the beginning of being smart and capable. This would be a good test for him.
‘Hey, Eddie,' Vince said, as I approached, ‘come to check on me?'
He was a tall, fit man in his thirties. Jack Entratter might say he was too young, but I was willing to give him a chance. After all, Entratter had given me one.
‘I just had some spare time,' I said. ‘Thought I'd walk the floor before headin' home.'
‘Well, things are goin' OK,' he said.
‘How are the dealers takin' it?'
‘I think some of them think they should've gotten the nod over me,' he said, ‘but for the most part everybody's cooperatin'.'
‘That's good,' I said. ‘That's what comes from havin' professionals work for you.'
At the Sands we tried to weed out the troublemakers and malcontents. The last dealer who had been found to be cheating had paid a heavy price at the hands of Entratter and his security boys. He had let me watch, since I was the one who had spotted the cheat. They didn't kill the guy. They left him alive to spread the word about what happened to cheaters at the Sands. Especially those who tried to cheat from the inside. Jack Entratter took that very personally.
‘Hey, Eddie,' one of the dealers called out. ‘We got one of your regulars here, looking to increase the limit.'
‘Talk to Elliott,' I called back. I looked at Vince. ‘Your call, brother.'
‘Thanks, Eddie,' he said, and walked over to the table to make the decision.
I decided to head for the parking lot, point the Caddy home, and maybe catch a Cagney movie.
FIFTEEN
I called Jerry the next morning and arranged to meet him for breakfast in the Garden Room. He was already there, working on a pot of coffee when I arrived.
‘You order?' I asked.
‘No,' he said. ‘I waited for you.'
I waved over a waitress and we ordered. I ordered bacon and eggs, Jerry surprised me and ordered a Spanish omelet with a side of bacon, and potatoes.
‘No pancakes?'
‘Maybe after,' he said. ‘I'm tryin' to mix it up. I had one of these last week in Brooklyn, and it was really good.'
He asked me what I ended up doing last night and I told him I went home and caught one-and-a-half Cagney movies. Half of
White Heat
and all of
Blood On The Sun
.
‘
White Heat
was great,' Jerry said. ‘I made it, Ma. Top of the World.' Hey, has Mr C. ever been in a movie with Cagney?'
‘I don't know,' I said. ‘I guess we can ask him later. I also have to ask him to describe this guy Fred Stanley. Danny needs it to pass around. I should've asked him earlier.'
‘Don't worry, Mr G.,' Jerry said, as the waitress came with our orders. ‘We'll just get it after breakfast.'
He picked up his fork and dug in.
‘Fred?' Bing Crosby said, in the lobby. ‘Well, sure, he's kind of . . . how do I put this.' He waved a hand in front of his face. ‘He's not tall, kind of . . . short-legged, ya know? Thick in the body. Big ears.'
‘That should do it,' I said. ‘Just wait here while I give Danny a call and tell him.'
I left Jerry and Bing in the center of the lobby and called. Danny was in his office, even before Penny arrived.
‘How was that movie last night?' I asked him.
‘It was good.'
‘You watched the Cagneys?'
‘Sure.'
‘Which ones?'
‘You know . . . two of the famous ones.'
If he had been with Penny – or someone else – doing something other than watching TV he wouldn't be able to tell me the names of the movies.
‘Um, yeah,
White Heat
and . . . the one about the Japanese.'
Good guess?
I gave him Stanley's description and he promised to get in touch as soon as he knew something.
‘Say hi to Penny.'
‘Enjoy your horse hunting.'
I hung up and walked over to Jerry and Bing, who were sharing a laugh.
‘What'd I miss?' I asked.
‘We can't tell you,' Jerry said.
‘Why not?'
‘Because we were talking about you,' Bing said. ‘Come on, boys. Let's go look at a horse.'
Jerry drove and we followed some directions Bing had gotten from the owner. Red Rock Canyon was to the West of Las Vegas. Eventually we were on highway 159 out in the middle of nowhere.
‘Is this right?' Jerry asked, looking around warily. ‘Looks to me like we're in the middle of the desert.'
‘We are,' I said.
‘Mr G., I hope you been takin' good care of this engine,' Jerry said. ‘I don't wanna get stuck in the desert.'
‘Come on, you big cry baby,' I said. ‘You've been spendin' too much time in Brooklyn and Manhattan. You need some wide open spaces.'
‘I'm happy with the wide open spaces I can see from my hotel window.'
‘Relax, Jerry,' Bing said. ‘This ain't so different from Palm Springs.'
‘Beggin' your pardon, Mr C.,' Jerry said, ‘I been to Palm Springs to Mr S.'s house, and it's a lot different. At least there's buildings there.'
‘Have you bought any horses from this guy before, Bing?' I asked.
‘I never heard of him until last week.'
‘What's his name?'
‘Chris Arnold.'
‘He called you out of the blue?'
‘He called my trainer, Red Stanley,' Bing said. ‘Said he had a horse he thought we'd like to look at.'
‘And is anybody else gonna be lookin' at it?' I asked.
‘I don't know that,' Bing said.
‘I mean, if the horse is for sale there's got to be other buyers, no?' I asked.
‘You'd think so,' Bing said, ‘but like I said, all I know is I've got an appointment to look at the horse today. I don't know if anyone else will be there.'
‘What's that up ahead?' Jerry asked.
Bing and I both looked. Coming at us seemed to be a dust cloud. As it got closer, we saw there was a vehicle in the center of it. It was moving fast, kicking up a lot more dust than we were.
‘This guy's a nut,' Bing said. ‘He's comin' right at us.'
‘Who thought we'd hit traffic out in the middle of nowhere?' I asked.
‘If he wants ta play chicken he came to the right guy,' Jerry said, gripping the wheel.
‘Not with my car, Jerry.'
‘Aw, Mr G. . . .' he whined.
‘Give him some room.'
‘Spoilsport.'
As the car came closer Jerry slowed, moved over and reluctantly stopped. When the car went by us it must have been doing seventy. It pelted us with sand and rocks, which meant I was going to have to have my interior cleaned. We covered our heads and faces, but our clothes still got covered with sand. Bing was wearing his ever-present hat, so he didn't have to worry about sand in his hair like Jerry and I did.
‘Anybody see the driver?' I asked.
‘No,' Jerry said. ‘I thought I saw something . . . but no . . .'
‘Too busy covering up,' Bing said.
‘He's gotta be goin' to Las Vegas,' I said. ‘I'd like to find him again, if only to give him my cleaning bill.'
‘I'd like to clean his clock,' Jerry said.
‘Let's mush on, boys,' Bing said. ‘We've still got a horse to see.'
Jerry put the car in drive and we started off again.
SIXTEEN
Before long we spotted some low, flat buildings in the distance. As we got closer it became clear there was a house and a barn.
‘Finally,' Jerry said. ‘Civilization.'
‘Hey, we did this in Reno one time, remember? Had to ride out to the middle of nowhere?' I said.
‘Yeah,' Jerry said, ‘and it didn't end well, did it?'
‘Don't be such a cynic.'
We drove beneath a sign that said ‘Red Rock Farm'. It was like no farm I'd ever seen, and I said so.
‘Lots of thoroughbred outfits use the word farm,' Bing said. ‘Doesn't mean the same thing. This is more of a ranch than anything else.'
Jerry drove up to the front of the house and stopped. Next to the barn was a corral with three horses in it. I wondered if one of them was the one Bing had come to look at. I hoped not. Who'd leave a valuable – or potentially valuable – thoroughbred in a corral with other horses?
‘OK,' I said, as we got out, ‘so where's your guy?'
Bing checked his watch.
‘We're on time,' he said. ‘He should be around here, somewhere.'
‘Should we look around?' Jerry asked. ‘Or wait?'
‘Let's knock on the door, for starters,' I suggested.
We mounted the front steps and Jerry knocked a little heavier than I would have. Not that he could help it.
‘Try again,' Bing said.
Jerry did. No answer.
‘Try the doorknob,' I said.
‘That's not a good idea, Mr G.'
‘Why not?' Bing asked.
‘Because if it's unlocked, we'll go in,' Jerry said. ‘That ain't legal.'
Bing looked at me.
‘Jerry's had a run in or two with the law in the past.'
‘Well, I haven't,' Bing said. He reached for the knob and turned it. ‘Huh, it's unlocked. Whataya think about that?'
‘We should keep knockin',' Jerry said. ‘Or check the barn.'
‘Jerry, you check the barn,' I suggested. ‘I'll go into the house with Bing.'
‘Suits me,' Jerry said.
He went down the stairs and walked toward the barn. I pushed the door open and Bing and I stepped inside.
It was a ranch-style house, all on one level, pretty big by my standards, but not by Bing Crosby standards.
‘Jerry's been in trouble with the law?' Bing asked.
‘Let's say he's had . . . experience with them,' I said.
‘That how you met him?'
‘How do you mean?'
He looked at me thoughtfully, then said, ‘Never mind.' He raised his chin and called out, ‘Hello? Chris?'
We stood there a moment and got nothing.
‘Maybe he's in the shower?' I suggested. ‘Or out back, barbecuing something.'
‘Damn it,' Bing said. ‘We drove all the way out here and the guy isn't even around.'
‘Well, let's look around.'
‘I see a kitchen,' Bing said, pointing.
‘I'll look for a bedroom.'
We split up. I walked through the dining room and found the bedroom. The bed was unmade. I went into the master bath and found wet towels. He'd been around earlier in the day.
I went back to the front door, found Bing standing there.
‘Dishes in the sink,' he said.
‘How many?'
‘Just breakfast for one,' he said. ‘A small plate, one cup.'
‘I got an unmade bed and wet towels. He was here. So where is he?'
‘In the barn.'
We turned and looked at Jerry, who had slipped in through the open door. I knew something was up because he had his .45 in his hand.
‘What?' I asked.
‘He's in the barn.'
‘What the hell is he doin'?' Bing asked. ‘Why didn't he hear us yelling for him.'
‘Because,' Jerry said, ‘he's dead.'
SEVENTEEN
Jerry led us over to the barn. But first I blocked Bing's view and said to Jerry, ‘Stow the piece, will ya?'
‘Sorry, Mr G.' He put it away.
‘Where'd you find him?' Bing asked, as we walked.
‘I had to poke around a bit, but I found him in one of the stalls. They covered him with hay, but they didn't do a good job.'
‘They wanted him to be found?' I asked.
‘Maybe.'
We entered. There was a horse standing in a stall, staring balefully at us. No other horses were around. This one was bigger than the ones in the corral.
BOOK: Fly Me to the Morgue
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