You're Nobody 'Til Somebody Kills You (19 page)

Our meals came and we both ate as if we hadn’t eaten for days. I could still see my friend, Jerry, on the floor covered in blood, and yet I was ravenous. What did that say about me?

“Okay, Fred,” I said, “what did you want to talk to us about?”

“I went back to that motel, talked to everybody—the owner, the front-desk clerks, and the maids.”

“And none of them remembered Danny, right?”

“Wrong,” he said. “One maid not only remembered Danny, she remembered letting you into his room.”

“That’s right,” I said, “she dickered with me and let me in for a sawbuck, I think.”

“Well, for a double sawbuck she told me that Danny had been there for one day and one night before he disappeared. She said they got his stuff out of there before the owner even knew
he’d checked in. And she said she knew from the start that there was something fishy about that clerk, Johnson. When I told her he was dead, she didn’t bat an eyelash.”

“So what’s it all mean?” I asked. “Did she give you anything helpful?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“A matchbook.”

“A what?”

“She cleaned Danny’s room after he disappeared. She kept everything.”

“Why?”

“She said she figured the way he vanished somebody would come looking for him.”

“So why didn’t she offer me the matchbook?”

“She said she would have, if you’d come back,” Otash said. “She was afraid you’d try to get it for the same sawbuck. She wanted you to come back and offer her more money.”

“So where’s the matchbook?”

Otash took it out of his pocket and set it down on the table. The cover had garish purple and yellow letters spelling out:
THE LAVENDER ROOM
.

“Strip club? Dance club?” I asked. “What?”

“I checked,” Otash said. “It’s a strip club—or gentlemen’s club. Whatever you call it, it has naked women.”

“So you think Danny left it behind?”

“I asked her what else was in the wastebasket and she said candy wrappers, chip bags, things from a vending machine and some soda cans he probably got from a convenience store down the road.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “The candy was Hershey’s bars, the chips barbecue, and the soda cans Dr Pepper.”

Otash took out his notebook, turned to the right page and read his notes. “You’re right.”

“That’s Danny.”

I knew how Danny liked to raid vending machines when he was in hotels or motels. He ate the stuff not only in the room, but when he was on a stakeout. And Hershey’s were his favorite.

“So his clothes weren’t left behind and stored by the motel?”

“No,” Otash said, “personal things were gone.”

“Did she see who took Danny? Or who took his things?” I asked.

“She saw two men come and clean the motel room out.”

“Did she describe them?”

“Well enough. She’s very observant. A burly, curly-haired guy and a man with a scar on his forehead.”

“So she just saw them clean the room out, right? Didn’t see them take Danny?”

“No, he wasn’t taken from the motel.”

“Maybe he went to this club and was taken from there.”

“That’s what I think,” Otash said. “I’m going to check it out tonight.”

“
We’re
gonna check it out tonight,” I said. “I’m goin’ with you.”

“I thought you might say that.”

“Don’t argue with me.”

“I won’t,” he said. “I’m going to change my clothes. I’ll stand out like a sore thumb in this suit. I’ll stop by here and pick you up.”

“Come to the hospital,” I said. “I’ll be there, waiting to hear something about Jerry.”

“Okay,” Otash said. “Do you have a gun?”

“Jerry’s is in the guesthouse,” I said.

“Have you ever used one?”

“Yeah, in the army. A forty-five, like Jerry’s.”

“Considering what’s been going on, you better bring it.”

“It’s gonna be bad news if the cops catch me with it,” I pointed out.

“It might be even worse news,” Otash said, “if we run into trouble and you get caught without it.”

“Okay, but I won’t carry it into the hospital. I’ll put it in the trunk, where Jerry stashes it.”

“Good,” Otash said. “We can pick it up before we go to the Lavender Room.”

“This may be a silly question, but you’ll have a gun, too, right?”

He nodded. “My thirty-eight.”

“Good,” I said. “We’d be in trouble if I was the only one armed.”

I
WENT BACK TO THE GUESTHOUSE
after cleaning the kitchen floor in the main house. I didn’t want Marilyn finding blood all over the kitchen. That would really do a number on her.

I showered, changed and got Jerry’s gun from where I’d left it in a kitchen drawer. When the cops had been called, after I’d found Jerry, I’d removed his gun so they wouldn’t see it and keep it.

Cops, I thought. Stanze and Bailey had me confused. They had seemed genuinely concerned about Jerry at the hospital. Were they still running a game on us, or had they never been running a game at all? Dealing with that prick Hargrove in Las Vegas had given me a bad opinion of detectives.

I was about to leave for the hospital—Jerry’s gun uncomfortably in my belt—when I realized I hadn’t talked to Jack Entratter in a while. He was going to be pissed that I hadn’t called him.

I didn’t really want to deal with him at this point, but better to make contact and get it over with than to let any more time go by.

I dialed Jack’s number, got past his girl and listened for a few minutes while he chewed me out for not staying in touch.

“Okay,” he said, sounding spent, “now that I got that out of the way, what’s goin’ on?”

I gave him the whole story, tossing in Frank’s and Dean’s names liberally. As long as he thought I was working for or with his buddies, he wouldn’t bitch too much about my absence. When I got to the part about not having found Danny yet, and Jerry being in the hospital, he commiserated.

“I’m sorry about your friends, Eddie, but it doesn’t sound like you’ve gotten anywhere since you went to L.A.”

“No, but that may change.” I told him about the matchbook cover.

“I’m gonna check on the Lavender Club, see if we know who’s runnin’ it,” he said. I knew who he meant when he said “we.” I didn’t bother saying I thought Otash could handle that. Instead I just said thanks, and told him I’d stay in touch.

“Call me if you need anything,” he said, “like your ass bailed out.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

I hung up and went out to the Caddy. I opened the trunk, took the gun from my belt and stuck it in the wheel well, where Jerry had put it before. I was fine as long as the cops didn’t search my car.

I closed the trunk and drove to the hospital.

“He’s not awake yet,” the doctor said. He was the emergency room doctor who had worked on Jerry. I hadn’t noticed much about him earlier, but now saw that he was young, probably in his early thirties. He had an air of both confidence and competence about him.

“I warned you,” he went on, “so far we’re not looking at this as anything unusual.”

“I understand,” I said. “I was just hopin’. Where is he?”

“We’ve put him in a room.”

“A private room?”

“Yes,” he said, “apparently Mrs. Dean Martin insisted on that.”

“Good. Can I see him?”

“He won’t know you’re there.”

“I know, I just want to see him.”

“Sure.”

The doctor walked me to the room and left me there. I nodded to the cop guarding the door as I went in. Jerry was a big lump on the bed, his head swathed in bandages. He looked pale, but while most people looked frail in hospital beds, he still looked healthy and burly.

I walked up closer to the bed and looked down at him.

“Sorry, big guy,” I said. “You took the brunt of it, this time. I’m gonna find out who clobbered you and make ‘em pay. You can count on it.”

He didn’t blink.

I leaned closer and lowered my voice.

“Oh yeah, I’m gonna borrow your forty-five,” I said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

I could almost hear him thinkin’,
Hell no, Mr. G. Go ahead. Just don’t lose it
.

“Yeah, I’m gonna make ‘em pay,” I said, “as long as I don’t shoot myself in the foot.”

When I came out into the waiting room Fred Otash was there, wearing jeans and a windbreaker.

“How’s he doing?”

“Not awake, no change,” I said. “They’re sayin’ it’s not unusual.”

“You ready to go look at some naked babes?”

“Sure.”

“You got that item we talked about?”

“In the trunk.”

“Well, let’s get it out of the trunk, and get going,” he suggested.

W
E WENT IN BOTH CARS
, in case we wanted to split up. After we pulled into the parking of the neon-lit Lavender Club I joined him in his car and asked, “How good are your descriptions.”

“Right down to a scar down the center of one of their foreheads,” Otash said. “If they’re here, we’ll spot them.”

We got out of the car. Once again the gun felt awkward in my belt, like it was either going to fall out, or yank my pants down. I wondered aloud if I shouldn’t put it in my jacket pocket.

“It’ll get caught when you’re trying to pull it out,” Otash said. “Also, it’ll yank down the jacket so that someone will know you’ve got something in there. Keep it in your belt.”

I nodded my agreement.

We went in the front door and I blinked as the sheer volume of lavender neon hit me.

“Jesus,” Otash said, “this’ll take some getting used to.”

He was right, it was hard to see at first, and I wondered why the management wouldn’t realize that. As we got deeper
into the place, though, the neon faded. It got darker, easier to see the girls spotlit up on the stages. Most of them were already nude, it was strange how some of them looked more nude than others.

We found two seats, sat down and ordered beer. Otash turned his attention to the stage, where a woman with very large breasts was hanging upside down from a pole.

I was scanning the audience. The place was only about half full.

“Fred,” I said, “we’re supposed to be lookin’ for these guys, remember? And they’re not gonna be up on stage.”

“Give me a break,” Otash said. “I’m a busy man and I don’t get out much. I don’t live in Vegas, where this kind of thing is everywhere.”

“It’s not everywhere,” I said. “It’s in the clubs, just like here, and sometimes up on stage.”

“Just look for that big scar right down the center of his forehead,” Otash said. “That can’t be very common.”

“And the guy with him?”

“Burly, she said,” Otash answered. “With curly hair. And when she saw them they were both wearing suits and ties.”

“Well,” I said, “if they wear suits and ties in here that’ll make ‘em stand out for sure.”

The girl with the big tits got off the pole and was right side up, her breasts returning to their normal position.

Otash took a deep breath and looked at me.

“Who owns this place?” I asked. “Do you know?”

“The owner of record is some corporation. It’s managed by a man named Sam Kearny.”

“Do you know anything about him?”

“No,” Otash said, “he could just be a name on a piece of paper.”

I remembered Jack Entratter saying he was going to have someone look into who owned the place. Maybe he was able to
get behind the corporate name. I’d have to call him later and find out.

We sat there for two hours, had two more beers, watched the girls rotate in and out until the one with the really big boobs waved at Otash because she was used to seeing him there by then.

When a new batch of girls showed, Otash leaned over to me and said, “I guess we should call it a night. We could try again tomorrow.”

We started to get up when I grabbed his arm and pushed him back down.

“What?”

“Guy in a suit just came in,” I said, jerking my chin toward the door.

The man stood bathed in purple while his eyes adjusted to the neon. He didn’t have a scar, but was burly and had curly hair, albeit closely cut.

“He’s alone,” Otash said.

We watched him. Eventually, he turned, walked along the front wall and entered what was probably an office. The girls had been coming in and out through a pair of swinging doors, so we didn’t think he was going backstage.

“He belongs here,” I said.

“Or he knows the owner.”

“We have to get back there,” I said. “Danny may be in this building.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “You stay here in case I get into trouble.”

“I’ll come with you,” I said.

This time he put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me down.

“That’d be too obvious. Just stay here and watch my back—but at the same time, be careful about pulling that gun.”

“Right.”

Jerry’s .45 felt like it weighed fifty pounds. I sat back and watched Otash mosey across the room toward that doorway. Just as he reached it the door opened and a big, broad bouncer came walking out. He spotted Otash, put out a hand that sparkled with a couple of diamond rings and laid it on Otash’s chest. They exchanged some words, and the bouncer pointed toward the front door. When we first came in I had noticed the rest-rooms, so Otash was either being shown out, or directed to the men’s room. He started that way, with the bouncer right behind him. Briefly, he caught my eye, looking helpless.

I didn’t waste any time. I got out of my chair and quickly crossed the room to that doorway. Yanking the door open I quickly slipped inside.

I
CLOSED THE DOOR
behind me, found myself in a hallway. Voices were coming from a room at the end of the hall that was obviously an office, its door open. If anybody came out of that room, I’d be screwed. I’d have to claim I was looking for the men’s room and see what happened.

The voices were simply a buzz. I had to get closer to hear what was being said. I wondered if the bouncer who had walked Otash out would come back and catch me from behind. I had Otash’s last word in my head, about not drawing the gun. If I’d paused to think, I probably would not have rushed across the room in the first place and through this doorway, but the decision had been made so I had to come out of it with something.