Hey There (You with the Gun in Your Hand) (17 page)

“What are
you
doing here, out in the middle of nowhere?” I asked.

“We heard there was a buy going down,” he said, candidly. “So what are you doing, sir, buying or selling?”

“Damn, you guys are polite,” Jerry said.

Sloane looked at Jerry.

“I’m sure you’re used to dealing with New York and New Jersey cops, Mr. Epstein. We could’ve shot you in the kneecaps and we’d still be more polite than they are.”

“You got that right.”

“But don’t think for a moment that means you can fuck with us.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Nobody’s tryin’ to fuck with you, but isn’t your job safeguarding the President of the United States?”

“That’s right.”

I looked around and said, “I don’t see JFK anywhere around here.”

“The man doesn’t have to be here himself for us to be investigating a danger to him.”

“You think we are a danger to Jack Kennedy?”

Sloane’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m sure the President wouldn’t like you calling him Jack, Mr. Gianelli.”

“Well, you might ask him that when you see him, Agent Sloane. It happens I know Jack Kennedy personally.”

Jesus, but I was stretching the truth. I’d met Kennedy through Frank, and that was a year ago in Vegas. I wasn’t even sure Kennedy would remember.

“Be that as it may,” Sloane said, “I still need to know why you’re out here.”

We still had some hours before we were due to make our buy, but I didn’t want to stay out there any longer than we had to.

“Do we have to do this here?” I asked. “I don’t know what you came out here lookin’ for, but you found us, and I’ll bet we’re not it.”

None of the agents replied.

“It’s hot out here,” I said, “you guys are wearin’ suits and we’re wearin’ sports jackets. Why don’t we go back to town and do this where it’s cool, and we can get something wet?”

“Suits me,” Jerry said.

After a few seconds Agent Byers said, “Me, too,” and then seemed to realize he’d said it out loud.

“Okay,” Sloane said, “let’s go get something wet.”

I
DID SOME CONVINCING
that I was very proud of.

First, I convinced them that we had to bring our car. Sloane put us in the backseat of their sedan and Byers drove our rental.

Second, I convinced them that we had driven there directly from the airport, and had not checked into any hotel. It was the same with them.

Third, I convinced them that the bar in Harrah’s would be the best place to talk and get a drink. They didn’t know anything about Reno, so they went along with it.

“But don’t try anything until we’re finished talking,” Sloane said. I smiled from the backseat and said, “We’ve got no reason to try anything, Agent Sloane.”

“Yes, well,” Sloane said. “I guess you’ll have to convince us of that.”

We got a table in the back of the lounge and pulled some extra chairs over. We weren’t exactly blending into the background, but that didn’t seem to bother our Secret Service friends.

A pretty waitress showing lots of leg and cleavage came over.

“What can I get for you gentlemen?” she asked.

“Five cold beers,” Sloane said.

“Any particular kind?”

“Just whatever you have on draft will do,” he said.

“Comin’ up.”

“You mind if I ask the first question?” I said to Sloane.

“Yes.”

“How did you know my name?”

“I said I minded.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “I thought you meant yes, I could ask the question.”

“I understand you’re a bit of a wise guy, Gianelli,” he said. “That doesn’t impress me.”

I wasn’t exactly sure which definition of “wise guy” he was referring to.

The waitress returned with five draft beers and leaned over, showing lots of skin while she set them down, attracting the eyes of the other two agents. But not Sloane.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“No,” Sloane said, “can you just run a tab for us, honey?”

“Sure.”

As she left the other two agents and Jerry lifted their glasses.

“I need to know what you and Mr. Epstein were doing out at that barn, Gianelli,” Sloane said.

I picked up my beer meaning to sip it, but it was so good I ended up taking several long gulps before setting it down.

“You said you heard somebody was making a buy,” I countered. “What kind of buy?”

“We’re not going to get anywhere if we each keep asking questions and nobody answers,” he said.

“Agreed.”

We stared at each other and I wondered if he was going to pull rank.

“All right,” he said. “You answer a question, and then I will.”

Jerry and the other two agents were watching us, intrigued, waiting for the next move.

“Okay, we were out there scouting the area because
we
are supposed to have a meeting tonight to make a buy.”

“And what are you buying?”

“Photographs,” I said. “That is, negatives for a roll of photos.”

“An entire roll?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“There’s at least one photo on that roll that somebody thinks is worth fifty thousand dollars.”

“Fifty thousand?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re going to pay somebody fifty thousand dollars for one photo?”

“The problem is, we don’t know which one,” I said. “That’s why we need the whole roll.”

“Where’s your buy money?” Sloane asked.

“In a safe place.”

Suddenly, I wanted to take another look at their IDs. I just had a bad feeling.

Byers and Simpson started to laugh.

“Fifty thousand …” Byers said, shaking his head.

“What’s funny about that?” I asked.

“Mr. Gianelli,” Sloane said, “you’ll be interested to know we are also here to buy a photograph—only we’re paying half a million bucks.”

“H
ALF A MILLION?”
I asked, after picking my jaw up off the table. To his credit Jerry didn’t flinch.

“Not a lot of money, considering where we are, is it?” Sloane asked.

“Half a million dollars is a lot of scratch no matter where you are,” I said. “Are you thinkin’ you’re makin’ your buy from the same people we’re makin’ ours from?”

“How many rolls of film can there be?” he asked. “Are you after the roll, or a particular photo?”

“One photo,” he said, “but we’ll buy the whole roll to get it.”

“So why would these people want fifty thousand dollars from one man when they’re gettin’ half a million from … who? The President?”

“Who’s your principal, Gianelli?”

“I think that’s a question I won’t answer, Agent Sloane.”

“Same here.”

“So when was your meet set for?” I asked.

“We’re staying at a small hotel just outside of town,” he said. “They’ll contact us there.”

“Well, our meet is set for tomorrow morning,” I said.

“What were you doing out there today?”

“Scouting it,” I said. “Jerry, here, is supposed to be my backup. We were lookin’ for a place for him to set himself.”

“I see.”

“Are you going to let us make our buy?”

Byers and Simpson finished their beers and stared at Sloane.

“What time’s your meet?”

“Ten
A.M
.”

“When is Jerry going out there?”

“Seven.”

“Maybe,” Sloane said, “we should let Agent Byers go out with him.”

“Is that the only way we get to complete our transaction?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, fine,” I said. “Jerry and Byers can meet out in front of Harrah’s.”

“Fine,” Sloane said. “Then Agent Simpson and I will meet you at, say, nine? Same place?”

“Sure,” I said. “Out front. Jerry and Byers can use our car, and we’ll use yours.”

Sloane drank half his beer and set it down. The three men stood up. “We’ll see you gents in the morning, then.”

“Not going to do any gambling while you’re here?” I asked.

“We’ll do plenty tomorrow,” Sloane said, “with our lives. What about you two? Where will you be spending the night?”

“Hey, this is Reno, baby,” I said. “It’s open all night. We’ll be fine.”

They started to leave and Jerry said, “Ain’t you forgot somethin’?”

Sloane turned and looked at him.

“Like what?”

“My piece.”

Sloane smiled.

“Oh, yeah.”

He took it from his belt, passed it over, then headed for the door. Byers and Simpson waved and followed Sloane out of the lounge. “They didn’t ask enough questions,” Jerry said. “I know.”

“I don’t think they’re Feds,” Jerry said.

“Maybe not. That’s why I told them our meet was tomorrow,” I said.

“Why do you think they’re here?”

“It sure isn’t to pay anybody half a million dollars,” I said. “I wouldn’t trust them with that much money.”

“What if the money man was comin’ later?”

“What if they
are
from Washington,” I said. “Not exactly Feds, but …”

“What are you sayin’?”

“I’m thinking out loud,” I said, “and if I’m gonna keep on doin’ it we need two more beers.”

I waved to the waitress. When she had us set up I started to talk. I was trying it out on Jerry, and on myself, out loud.

“I’m thinkin’ about the first dead guy in the warehouse, Jerry. What if he wasn’t killed by one of his partners? What if somebody met him to make a buy and killed him instead?”

“These guys?”

“Why not?”

“And you think they’re here to kill somebody else?” Jerry asked.

“If there’s a picture that’s worth a half a million bucks, then there’d be a picture worth killing for. I see two scenarios. One, these guys are lookin’ for the picture for themselves.”

“And two?”

“They were sent to make a buy, but what they really want to do is get the picture and kill everyone and anyone who saw it.”

“From Washington?” Jerry said. “You mean you think JFK sent these guys out to kill instead of buy?”

“Maybe not Jack,” I said, “maybe Bobby. He’d do anythin’ to protect his brother.”

“So Mr. Davis got a photo of JFK doin’ somethin’ he’s not supposed to be doin’, with somebody he ain’t supposed to be doin’ it with.”

“You know, I actually followed that.”

“So how do we find out?”

“Today we make some calls, and tonight we go to the meet. Maybe we can convince the seller of Sammy’s picture to come clean
by tellin’ them all of this. We can’t forget that our part in all this is to get Sammy his picture back.”

“So who we callin’?”

“Somebody who can answer a few questions about the Kennedy clan.”

“Mr. S.?”

“No,” I said, “Peter Lawford.”

“That guy?” Jerry made a face. “Why would he talk to you?”

“Because Sammy’s gonna ask him to,” I said, “and they’re buddies.”

“Wait a minute, Mr. G.,” Jerry said. “What happens to us if we see that picture?”

“One thing at a time, Jerry,” I said, “one thing at a time.”

W
E WENT BACK
to the room and I called Sammy in Tahoe.

“You’re a cool cat, you know that, Eddie?” Sammy said when I was done. “You were lookin’ to keep me out of the loop, weren’t you?”

“For your own good, Sam.”

“So what’s changed, man?” Sammy asked. “Why the call now?”

“I’ve got a theory,” I said. “About my pictures?”

“Yup.”

“Do I get to hear it?”

“Only because I need to talk to Peter, and you can get him to call me.”

“Peter … Lawford?”

“Right.”

“Listen, Eddie, Frank and Peter, they’re—”

“This’ll have nothin’ to do with Frank, Sammy.”

“But … you’re sayin’ this is about the President, aren’t you? About Kennedy?”

“That’s right, Sammy. I think you caught JFK, maybe in the background of a photo, but you caught him doin’ somethin’ they don’t want anyone to know about.”

“What?” Sammy asked. “Takin’ a payoff? Or was it a girl?”

“I don’t know, Sammy,” I said, “but it looks like they’re killin’ to keep it quiet.”

“Jesus … so now we’ve got two pictures to worry about?”

“I don’t know about you,” I said, “but my first concern is still your picture. But can you get Peter to call me? Talk to me about the Kennedy family?”

“I can get him to call you,” he said, “but whether or not he’ll talk to you, that’s somethin’ else.”

“Let’s start with the call, Sam, as soon as possible. I’m at Harrah’s in Reno. Here’s the number.” I read it to him off the phone.

“Stay put,” he said. “Let me see if I can get ahold of him.”

I checked my watch.

“It’s got to be in two hours, Sam,” I said.

“I’ll try, Eddie.”

I hung up and looked at Jerry.

“Why two hours?” he asked. “We got more time than that.”

“Not if we stick to the plan we’ve got to get you out there while it’s still light.”

“Oh yeah, the plan,” Jerry said. “Me in that broken-down house.”

“With your trusty forty-five,” I said, “keepin’ me alive.”

“I can do that, Mr. G.”

“I hope so, Jerry.”

“But if I’m gonna do it,” he said, sitting down on one of the beds, “I better take a little nap.”

“Yeah,” I said, suddenly realizing how tired I was, “me, too.”

“Should we leave a wake-up call?”

“Naw,” I said, reclining on the other bed with my shoes on, “Sammy’s call will wake us up.”

I woke up a while later. Jerry was sitting at the table. He had his gun in his hand and was cleaning it. He had the TV on.

I sat up and he turned the set off.

“Hey, Mr. G. Just wanted ta make sure this thing would work if we needed it.”

“What time is it?”

“You was asleep for an hour and a half,” he said. “I woke up about twenty minutes ago. I checked the news. Still no word on those bodies in Vegas.”

“Good.”

I rubbed my eyes. I felt like I had slept for ten minutes.

“I’m gonna call room service for some coffee,” I said. “I know this is a silly question, but do you want something?”

“Yeah,” he said, “I could use a burger and fries.”

I looked at my watch.

“We’re going to have to get out of here in half an hour.”

“Then you better call now.”