It Was a Very Bad Year (25 page)

We kicked up a lot of dust as most of the drive was on dirt roads. Eventually, we came within sight of a structure and I put my hand on Jerry's arm. He braked and let the car idle.

‘That it?' he asked.

‘Should be.'

‘Don't look like much.'

‘Some of them actually look like a ranch,' I said, ‘but this one . . .'

This one looked like a worn out double-wide. There were a couple of cars parked out front.

‘Let's back up some, just till we're out of sight,' I said. ‘Then we'll walk the rest of the way.'

He put the Caddy in reverse. We only had to go about twenty yards. I directed Jerry to pull off the road. If anyone came along maybe they'd think we'd gotten stuck and had to walk.

We got out of the car and, since we were in the desert, left our jackets in the car. I could see Jerry's .45 tucked into the back of his pants.

Once we started out on foot I looked around, imagining that this was the same view a cowboy would've seen a hundred years ago when he was out here on a horse. That is, until we once again came within view of the trailer.

‘Let's circle and come in from the back,' I suggested.

‘Good idea.'

From that angle we could see how large the structure actually was. An extension had been built on the back, which probably housed rooms – or cribs – for the girls.

We couldn't walk right in and pretend to be customers. Irwin had seen both of us, would know us on the spot. Of course, we could've taken the chance that he wouldn't notice us till too late, but with girls and customers around some innocent people could have gotten hurt if there was gun play.

And there were customers. We saw a few cars parked alongside the trailer's extension. And there were those two out front. Some of the cars must have belonged to employees, so I was hoping the interior wasn't going to be too crowded.

There was a back door at the very end of the extension, but if we went in that way we'd probably have to bypass every room in the place.

‘There's gotta be another door, maybe on the other side,' Jerry said.

We circled completely around the building and, sure enough, found a side door about halfway up the extension. There were also three motorcycles parked there. Not only was Irwin probably inside, but the Rienzas, as well.

We'd done this before, even though neither of us was an expert at breaking and entering. There were windows on either side of the door. The window on the right was blocked with something, so it was probably a crib. The window to the left was clear, and the room appeared to be an office. We saw a desk, a lamp, and a sofa. We could only see half the sofa, though, so we saw half a man lying on it – the bottom half. However, that half was clad in lime green pants, and white shoes.

‘That's him,' I whispered.

‘Gotta be,' Jerry said.

Instead of having the bad luck to have to use the back door, we ran into good luck. Once we got through this side door we'd be right next to the room Barney Irwin was in.

Jerry dropped to one knee and started working with his lock picks. I kept looking both ways – actually, all ways; left, right, behind us and above. I was sweating, and it wasn't just from the sun beating down on us. The back of Jerry's shirt was soaked through, but knowing him that
was
from the sun.

Irwin might still be dressing like a buffoon, but we'd discovered he was more than that. This might not be as easy as we'd hoped. It wasn't necessarily just girls, customers, other employees and Irwin inside. He could have a couple of mugs with him.

I heard the lock go
snick
and patted Jerry on his damp shoulder. He was getting better at that.

He stood up, looked at me and indicated he would take the lead. I nodded. He slid his .45 from his belt, held it in his right hand, and put his left hand on the door knob.

He looked at me. Again, I nodded, and he opened the door.

W
e stepped inside, closing the door behind us. Irwin may not have spent much money on the worn outer shell of the place, but the inside was air-conditioned. My soaked shirt immediately felt like a coat of ice on me.

We moved down a short hall, which led to a longer one that ran the center of the extension. Jerry peered out to be sure we were clear, then waved me on with his left hand as he stepped out. At any minute a girl and her john could come walking up or down the hall. We quickly moved to the door of the office. Jerry grabbed the knob, turned it and the door opened. We sprang into the room; I pulled the door closed behind, quickly, without slamming it.

‘What the hell is it now?' Irwin demanded from the sofa. ‘Can't a guy catch a nap—'

He stopped when Jerry put the barrel of his .45 to Irwin's cheek.

‘What the fuck?' Irwin said.

I moved around so he could see me. When he did, he craned his head against the pressure of the .45 and saw Jerry.

‘Fuck me,' he said.

‘That's exactly what we're here to do, Barney,' I said.

‘Hey, guys, look,' Irwin said, ‘there's no hard feelins—'

‘Cut the crap, Barney,' I said. ‘You tried to have us killed, and we saw what's in your storage unit. So cut the crap.'

Irwin looked at me and asked, ‘Can I sit up?'

‘Let him up, Jerry.'

Jerry moved the barrel of the gun far enough to let Irwin upright.

‘You guys are in trouble,' Irwin said, his entire attitude doing a one-eighty. ‘You don't think I'm here without back-up, do you?'

‘We don't care,' Jerry said, ‘We seen the kinda help you hire.'

Irwin looked at Jerry, then surprised me by smiling.

‘You're right, of course,' he said. ‘Maybe you'd consider coming to work for me?'

‘Sorry,' Jerry said, ‘I don't work for guys who wear white shoes.'

Irwin looked down at his feet, still smiling.

‘Barney,' I said, ‘you know who Jerry is and what he does, right?'

‘Oh yeah,' Irwin said, ‘I checked him out after that day in the warehouse.'

‘Then you know he'd kill you.'

‘Yes.'

‘Then get up,' I said. ‘We're walkin' out of here. And if you make a ruckus, Jerry's gonna pull the trigger of that forty-five. It might even blow your head completely off your shoulders.'

‘I doubt that, Eddie,' Irwin said, ‘but I'm sure it would blow the top of my head off, so I get your point.'

He stood up. Now that he wasn't playing the lecherous photographer he even stood differently.

‘Where we goin'?' he asked.

‘I'm gonna deliver you to a detective named Hargrove,' I said. ‘With the Las Vegas PD.'

‘You can't prove anything.'

‘That's his job,' I said. ‘He's gonna prove that you either killed Wayne or had him killed. I'm sure he'll get one or both of the Rienza brothers to admit you hired them to kill me. He won't be able to prove you sent three hoods to Brooklyn to kill Jerry. But he will be able to prove that you were involved in the kidnapping of Frank Sinatra Jr. In fact, he might even prove you planned the whole thing.'

‘What?' He'd still been grinning until I mentioned the kidnapping. ‘What the hell? That was my brother's thing, not mine.'

‘We found the floor plan of Harrah's in your storage unit, Barney,' I said. ‘And a note in your desk drawer. Silly of you to keep those things.'

‘None of it,' Irwin said. ‘You can't prove any of it.'

‘I only told him I'd deliver you,' I said. ‘Proving anythin' is his job. Let's go.'

‘You heard him,' Jerry said.

‘The Rienzas are here, you know,' Irwin said. ‘With a couple of the girls.'

‘Let's hope they stay busy,' I said. ‘For their benefit as much as yours.'

Irwin patted his pockets, as if he'd forgotten something, then looked around.

‘You won't need a jacket,' I said. ‘Let's go, out the side door.'

He nodded, and headed for the door. Jerry put his hand out to stop him, went to the door first. He looked out, then waved us to follow. He kept his gun in his hand.

We could hear girls laughing and men moaning, but we made it out the side door without running into anyone. We headed to the front of the building, intending to walk him to my car. But as we passed the front door it opened and a Rienza brother stepped out.

‘Hey, boss, where you goin'—' he started to shout, but then he saw Jerry.

‘Get 'em!' Irwin shouted, and dropped to the ground.

The other Rienza came through the door and they both pulled their guns.

‘Jerry, get down!' I yelled, but he had a gun and I didn't. Jerry knocked me down, then turned to face the Rienzas in what seemed like an Old West gunfight.

T
he anniversary party was in full swing in the Sands Ballroom when we got there. We'd taken the time to shower the desert off us, treat our cuts and bruises, and then dress for the party.

There was a band playing, and people dancing. Waitresses dressed like showgirls – or maybe they were showgirls – were working the room, carrying trays of hors d'oeuvre and drinks. Celebrities were also working the room, mixing with the guests. I spotted Dino and Joey, Jack Jones, Nat King Cole, Steve and Eydie, Tony Bennett, Richard Conte . . . they had all turned out for the Sands' eleventh anniversary.

We found Jack Entratter standing with a group of people, including Jilly Rizzo, Frank, and the Mayor of Las Vegas.

The Mayor was rambling on – as he was prone to do – which meant that Jack was scanning the room. He spotted us approaching.

‘What the hell happened to you?' he asked.

I touched the band-aid above my left eye.

‘Oh, Jerry knocked me down.'

‘What?'

‘That's OK,' I said. ‘It was just to save my sorry ass.'

‘Wait a minute,' Entratter said. He interrupted the Mayor just long enough to excuse himself, then grabbed my sore left arm and pulled me to the side. Jerry followed along, snagging a pig-in-a-blanket from a passing girl.

‘OK,' he said, ‘now tell me what the hell happened with you two?'

I explained to him about finding out where Irwin was, and driving out there to get him. How we grabbed him, but Jerry had to shoot it out with the Rienza brothers while we were getting away.

‘Oh, Christ. Are they dead?' he asked.

‘Oh, yeah,' Jerry said.

‘Jesus . . .'

‘Jerry pushed me out of the way, then turned on them – it was like somethin' outta the Wild West, Jack. Guns blazin', and those boys hittin' the ground.'

Entratter looked at Jerry.

‘And you?'

‘A few scratches,' he said. ‘I lost my footin' and fell down.'

‘And then you just left?'

‘Naw,' I said, ‘once the shootin' was over we called the Sheriff's Department, and when they came out we had them call the Las Vegas PD. They cuffed us all, but when Hargrove got there they let us go.'

‘Hargrove let you go?'

‘Hey, we gave him Irwin for murder, and kidnappin'. Believe me, he's real happy.'

‘He's gotta prove it all.'

‘I'm thinkin' the other kidnappers won't wanna take the rap without good ol' Barney,' I told him. ‘I don't know about the murder, but that should put him away for a good long time. Besides, we also found out he's been producing illegal porn. Believe me, he ain't goin' nowhere for a while.'

‘So you're off the hook for murder?'

‘Looks like.'

‘And they ain't gonna go after Jerry for killin' the Rienza boys?'

I shook my head.

‘Self-defense.'

‘What about his gun?'

‘They took it away from me,' Jerry muttered, mournfully.

‘And they ain't gonna charge you?'

‘Hargrove said he'd see what he could do about that,' I said.

‘Don't worry. I ain't gonna sweat a gun charge, Mr Entratter.'

‘You'll have one of our lawyers, Jerry,' Jack assured him. ‘So you won't have to.'

‘Thanks, Mr E.,' Jerry said. ‘Is there food here? I mean, other than this small stuff?'

‘There's a buffet table on the other side of the room.'

Jerry took off.

‘Maybe I shouldn't have told him that,' Jack said, watching big Jerry bull his way to the other side of the room.

‘He would've found it, anyway.'

‘Come on, Eddie,' Jack said, slapping me on the shoulder, ‘let's get you a drink, and then you can tell Frank that the last motherfucker who kidnapped his kid is in custody.'

I
t was Frank's birthday.

The Chairman of the Board passed in 1998, but every year on his birthday I still missed him.

At my age I don't drive so good anymore, so when I want to go out at night I get myself a driver. That's why I was in the back seat of the car, on my way to celebrate Frank's birthday.

After all the kidnappers were caught they began to turn on one another. Convicting them was no problem. Oddly, the Irwins disappeared. I never did hear what had happened to them. Keenan and Amsler – friends since childhood – served just under five years each. When they got out they walked the straight and narrow. I'd seen Amsler's obit earlier in the year, in May. He died at 65 of liver failure.

All but about six thousand dollars of the money was recovered. One of the kidnappers – Amsler or Keenan, I don't remember – had bought his mother a bunch of new furniture. When Frank heard that the law was getting ready to repossess it, he told them to let the woman keep her furniture.

Reading Amsler's obit had made me remember when Frank saw Amsler at the Liston-Patterson fight earlier in sixty-three. I wondered if that's when the kidnappers had started to hatch their plot, and were in Vegas to see Irwin??