I'm a Fool to Kill You (6 page)

The man looked confused.

‘Come on,' I said. ‘It's not that hard a question to answer.'

‘Um, I'll check, sir.'

‘You do that.'

He checked his registration records, even though I knew he didn't have to.

‘Look,' I said, as he started to sweat, ‘call your manager. I'll talk to him.'

Relieved, he said, ‘Yes, sir.'

He picked up his phone, dialed three numbers and said, ‘Mr Gentry, I need you out here. Yes, sir, it's very important.'

He hung up and looked at me.

‘He's comin' right out.'

‘That wasn't so hard, was it?' I asked.

‘No, sir,' he said, ‘but I'm just tryin' to do my job, sir.'

‘Ain't we all?' I asked.

I saw three more celebrities walk through the lobby while we waited for the manager. I knew them by sight, they didn't know me, at all. One of them was that guy who played in the TV. western
Sugarfoot
. Will Hutchins, that was it. Another one was the guy with the mustache from
Hawaiian Eye
. Used to be all you saw in the Beverly Hills Hotel lobby was movie stars. At least, that's what I heard.

When the Manager appeared he was older and, if possible, more dapper than the desk clerk. It was easy to see this was in the desk clerk's future.

‘What is it, Leon?' he asked the clerk.

‘Um, this gent wants to know what room Lucy Johnson is in.'

‘Lucy Johnson?' The Manager looked at me.

‘That's right,' I said.

‘Do you have business with Miss Johnson?' the Manager asked. ‘You see, we guarantee our guests' privacy—'

‘I understand that,' I said, ‘but it's important I speak with Miss Gardner – I mean, Miss Johnson.'

It wasn't a slip of the tongue. I just wanted to make sure we all knew who we were really talking about.

‘Are you, uh, from the studio?' he asked.

‘No,' I said, ‘my business is much more personal than that, if you know what I mean.'

Suddenly, as if a light had been turned on in his head, the Manager smiled.

‘Oh, I understand,' he said. I could tell by the look on his face that he thought he understood, but I knew he really didn't. Now I had to decide if I wanted him to keep thinking what I thought he was thinking.

‘Please,' he said, ‘come with me. I will escort you to her bungalow.'

OK, well, this was what I'd wanted, and it looked like I'd succeeded, so why try to talk him out of it now?

‘Lead on.'

I followed him out to the bungalows, and down a path toward one of them.

‘I was a little confused,' he said, as we walked, ‘because Miss Johnson usually prefers the company of much younger, um . . .'

‘Men?' I asked.

‘Well, yes,' he said. ‘I mean, uh, no offense.'

‘None taken,' I said. ‘I guess everyone needs a little more seasoning once in a while, huh?'

‘Yes,' he said, ‘yes, indeed.'

We approached one of the bungalows and he turned to give me a smile that was meant to convey some sort of bond we were sharing.

‘Will you knock,' he said, ‘or shall I?'

I stepped forward and knocked on the door. We waited, and I realized I was holding my breath. I had never seen Ava Gardner in person.

When the door opened she squinted her eyes against the light, held her hand up for shade. Ava Gardner was sex in a bottle – a wine bottle, still corked. Sexy and beautiful on the outside, but once the cork was popped . . .

Frank said she didn't like what she saw when she looked in a mirror these days, but when I looked at her it was like a punch in the stomach. She was Venus, Maria Vargas from
The Barefoot Contessa
, but to me she'd always be Honey Bear Kelly from
Mogambo
. Her black hair was cut Honey Bear short, her skin pale and smooth. And the green eyes, oh the green eyes, even squinted and shaded they were amazing . . .

‘Mr Gentry,' she said, ‘I thought I made it clear I did not want to be disturbed.'

‘Uh, this gentleman asked for you by name, Madam,' he stammered. ‘I mean, uh, he asked for Lucy Johnson.'

She looked at me for the first time, and I saw Ava, the sexual predator. She looked me up and down and asked, ‘Who the hell are you?'

‘I've come on behalf of Frank'

She stared at me for a few minutes, then looked at the Manager and said, ‘It's all right, Mr Gentry.'

‘Yes, Ma'am.'

She showed him her index finger and added, ‘But no one else, understand?'

‘I understand.' He actually bowed to her, and backed away.

As he scurried back down the path she looked at me and said, ‘Come on in, you must be Eddie G.'

THIRTEEN

I
stepped into the bungalow and closed the door.

Ava Gardner was wearing jeans with the cuffs rolled up and a man's shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Her feet were bare. Just my luck she'd have to be wearing the “Mogambo” look. My chest felt tight. She looked and smelled like sex. Somehow, the cigarette she was holding just added to the look.

I was as nervous as a school boy on prom night.

‘Drink?' she asked.

‘Yes, thanks,' I said.

She went to a sidebar and poured out two glasses of something. She walked across the room and handed me a highball glass. It smelled like bourbon. Good bourbon.

‘You know who I am?' I asked.

‘Eddie G.?' she said. ‘Yes, I've heard Frank talk about you. He likes you.'

‘I'm here because of Frank, Miss Gardner.'

‘Oh, no,' she said, with a lazy smile, ‘just call me Ava, Eddie.'

I realized then that this wasn't the first glass of bourbon she'd had that day. Though I couldn't figure how she'd had time to have too many drinks. She'd flown into Vegas, stopped at the Sands, then flown out of Vegas to L.A., and taken a cab here to the hotel. She'd probably beaten me by a couple of hours. OK, yeah, that was time enough to down quite a few drinks.

‘Frank sent you?' she asked. ‘How did he know I was here?'

‘He didn't,' I said. ‘Word got around that you were at the Sands this morning, and left just as abruptly as you arrived.'

She drank some bourbon, swirled the rest in her glass, watching as it went round and round.

‘Oh, yes,' she said. ‘I saw Frank with Nancy and Tina in the lobby, and . . . I ran.' She shrugged and looked at me. ‘I panicked and ran. All the way back here.'

‘Ava, Frank figures it must've been somethin' very important to bring you there without calling him first.'

‘Important?' she asked. ‘I guess that depends on which side you're on, Eddie.'

‘Frank's on your side, Ava,' I said. ‘So am I.'

She ran one hand through her short black hair, pulling at it, then shook her head.

‘I don't know, Eddie,' she said. ‘I don't know. Things have been . . . happening.'

‘What things?'

‘My life, it's unraveling,' she said. She looked down at her drink again, then drained it and walked back to the sidebar. She poured herself another glass, spilling a little bit from the decanter, then missing when she went to put the top back in.

‘Ava,' I said, ‘maybe we should have some coffee—'

‘I don't want any coffee, Eddie,' she said, turning to face me. ‘Coffee doesn't help. This is the only thing that helps.' She drank from her glass.

‘Well then, maybe we can sit and talk about it.'

‘I know who you are, Eddie,' she said, walking around the room slowly. ‘But that doesn't mean we're friends. Why would I talk to you?'

‘I told you,' I said. ‘Frank sent me.'

‘Because he couldn't come himself, right?'

‘He doesn't know where you are, Ava,' I said. ‘Maybe if we call him-'

‘No!' she said, abruptly. ‘No, we can't call Frank, not now. He's with his family.'

‘I'm sure he can take some time to talk to you on the phone.'

She dropped herself down on the sofa, letting her hands and head hang. I watched the glass she held, waiting for it to fall to the ground.

I put my glass down and moved closer to her. There were armchairs on either side of the sofa, so I sat down in one.

‘Eddie, Eddie,' she said, shaking her head, ‘it'll take more than a phone call.'

‘Ava—'

‘Papa's dead,' she said. ‘He did it to himself. Maybe he had the right idea.'

‘Papa?'

‘I've ruined my career, my life . . .' She lifted her head and looked at me. Her eyes were wet with tears. ‘Look at me, Eddie. Look at me. I'm hideous.'

Good God, woman, I thought to myself, you're a fucking Goddess! Even looking tired, worn out, with tears in her eyes, she was a Goddess.

‘Eddie—' she said, and then the glass dropped.

As it hit the floor and shattered she keeled over. I might have caught the glass, but instead I caught her. Suddenly, I had my arms full of Ava Gardner, but not the way I might have dreamed it.

FOURTEEN

I
lifted her in my arms and carried her to the bedroom. The bed was made, so I laid her right on top of the spread. I lifted her head, pulled a pillow out from beneath the covers, then lowered her head gently on to it. I stood up and looked down at her.

Ava Gardner, every man's dark Goddess, as opposed to Marilyn, who had been every man's blonde Goddess. But Marilyn was gone. Ava was still here. I'd failed Marilyn, hadn't been able to help her. Maybe I'd be able to help Ava. When she woke up.

I left the bedroom and pulled the door closed behind me. That was when I remembered I'd left Larry the cab driver in the Polo Lounge. I went out the front door, also closing it gently behind me. Right now what Ava needed was sleep. I decided when I came back I'd bring her some food and coffee. But at the moment I had to settle with Larry.

I followed the path back to the hotel and found that business in the Polo Lounge had picked up considerably. Larry must have been happily ogling movie stars. I wondered how a cab driver in Hollywood had avoided becoming jaded.

I peered into the lounge and didn't see Larry at the bar. A man walking out stopped short when he saw me, then smiled and stuck out his hand.

‘Eddie,' Johnny Carson said. ‘What a surprise seein' you here.'

‘Hey, Johnny' I said, ‘how's the
Tonight Show
goin'?'

He had recently taken over the show from Jack Paar, which were some big shoes to fill.

‘They haven't fired me yet. Saddled me with this big jamoke named Ed McMohan. I think they're going to have to dump him, or I'll only be doin' this for a couple of years. Good to see you, Ed.'

‘You, too, John.'

As I reached the front desk I noticed there was some commotion in the lobby. A crowd was gathered, excited about something. I heard the word ‘ambulance' and went to the desk.

‘What's going on?' I asked the clerk.

‘Fella left the Polo Lounge and when he got outside somebody attacked him.'

‘What fella?' I asked.

‘I don't know,' the clerk said. ‘I think he was a cab driver.'

‘Cab driver? What happened, exactly?'

‘Like I said. Somebody attacked him, beat him up. They took him away in an ambulance.'

‘Jesus,' I said. ‘What the hell . . .'

The clerk shrugged.

‘He got a call, and when he went outside—'

‘A call? When?'

‘A little while ago,' he said. ‘One of our bell hops went through the lobby, and into the Polo Lounge, paging . . . somebody.'

‘And?'

‘And . . . he took the call.'

‘Where is he?' I asked. ‘The boy?'

The clerk rang the bell on his desk and an old guy appeared. He looked to be about sixty.

‘This is Randy,' the clerk said.

‘Randy, my name is Eddie Gianelli.'

‘You're Mr Gianelli?'

‘That's right. The man you paged with a call earlier . . .'

‘The call was for an Eddie Gianelli,' Randy said, ‘but the cab driver, he took it.'

‘That's because he was waiting for me,' I said.

‘The guy who got beat up?' Randy asked, looking surprised. ‘He was with you?'

‘Yeah,' I said, ‘the guy who got beat up.' I looked at the clerk. ‘Can you find out what hospital he was taken to?'

‘Sure, Mr Gianelli.'

‘And his condition,' I said. ‘Whether or not they kept him there.'

‘Sure, I'll find out everything,' the clerk said.

‘Thanks. Oh, and I need some food to take to Miss Gardner – I mean, to Miss Johnson's bungalow.'

‘Just tell me what you want,' Randy said, ‘and I'll bring it over personally as soon as it's ready.'

‘No, no,' I said, changing my mind. ‘She's asleep now. I'll call when I want the food.'

‘What would you like?' the clerk asked.

‘I don't know,' I said. ‘A hamburger platter . . . maybe a steak dinner? And a large pot of coffee, with two cups.'

‘Anything else?'

‘Iced water,' I said.

When I got back to Ava's bungalow I looked in on her. She was still asleep. I picked up my glass and freshened it with some bourbon. I'm sure a cab driver got into a lot of arguments during the course of a day, but had Larry gotten somebody mad enough at him to wait outside the hotel and beat him up?