The Way You Die Tonight (4 page)

Clark was a businessman who owned several properties in Las Vegas, the best known being the Desert Inn. At one time he also owned Havana Cuba's Casino Internacional. He was forced to sell it when the Nevada Gaming Commission ruled that no Nevada casino owner could also own a casino in Cuba. He sold it to Meyer Lansky.

In order to finish the casino, though, Clark had to sell 75 percent of it to members of the Mayfield Road Gang, bootleggers and gamblers from Cleveland. Despite not having controlling interest, though, Wilbur Clark was in total charge, and made sure his name appeared above the name of the hotel.

The limo left me in front and a valet opened the door for me before the driver could.

‘Hey, Eddie G.,' the man said. ‘What you doin' at the DI?'

‘I've got an appointment, Sammy,' I said, slapping the man's palm.

‘Excuse me,' the chauffeur said to Sammy.

‘Sure, man,' Sammy said. ‘Peace.'

‘Mr Hughes is waiting, sir,' the chauffeur said to me.

‘I'm on my way. What floor?'

‘Top floor, sir.'

‘What room?'

‘The whole top floor.'

‘Thanks.'

I walked through the lobby to the elevators, rode to the top floor alone. The only thing higher than this floor was the Sky Room, fashioned after San Francisco's Top of the Mark. When I got off, I was confronted by two beefy bodyguards.

‘Sir,' one of them said, ‘if you please, raise your arms.'

I obeyed and he frisked me down to my ankles.

‘This way, sir,' the other one said.

I followed him to a door where we stopped.

‘Inside,' he said.

‘Just me?'

He nodded.

‘Have you ever seen Mr Hughes?' I asked.

‘No, sir,' he said. ‘We were hired by Mr Maheu.'

‘Shall I knock?'

‘Knock and go in, sir.' He stepped to the side and positioned himself next to the door, hands folded in front of him. I guessed at the first sign or sound of trouble he'd rush into the room.

I knocked and went in.

T
he DI suites were huge.

I entered, found myself in an entry foyer with marble floors.

‘Mr Gianelli!' a voice called from within the suite.

‘Yes, sir?'

‘Come in,' Hughes said.

I advanced into the suite, found myself in the living room. The curtains were drawn and the lights were on. The TV was going, but the volume was low. The flickering light from the screen threw shadows into the room.

There was a man on the sofa. As I was warned, he was naked, with a tissue spread over his genitals. Around him were many more boxes of tissues. Hughes preferred to pick things up with tissue, very mindful of possible germs. Again, the sign of a careful man, possibly an eccentric man – but not a crazy man. Also, there were no empty plates or glasses anywhere. Someone who was concerned with germs, I was sure he'd have those removed as soon as he was finished with them.

‘Have a seat,' Hughes said. ‘Don't be offended if I don't rise and shake hands.'

‘I won't be,' I promised.

He waved me to an armchair and I sat in it.

I was not shocked that he was naked, but I was taken aback by his appearance, otherwise. His hair had not been cut in some time and hung to his shoulders, he hadn't shaved in several days so there was significant stubble, and his fingernails were long, almost talon-like. I knew he was sixty years old or so, but he looked a lot older than that. Photos I had seen of him in the past had shown a healthy, handsome, well-built man. This man was scrawny, at best.

‘I know,' Hughes said to me, ‘I look like shit, but don't worry, I clean up good.' I knew he was from Southern Texas, but there was only a slight accent. I'd heard recordings of his voice, seen him in newsreels. There was a time his voice was strong and clear. The voice I was hearing now was a little shaky.

‘I'm sure you do, sir.'

‘Never mind,' he said. ‘It doesn't matter how I look – or smell.'

I hadn't noticed until he mentioned it but there was an … unpleasant musk in the air.

‘Thank you for coming to see me,' Hughes said. ‘You'll be wanting to know why, I'm sure.'

‘I'm curious, yeah,' I said. ‘Mr Maheu wasn't very … informative.'

‘That's because Maheu doesn't know why I wanted to see you,' Hughes said. ‘He only knows what I want him to know, and what I want him to tell the public.'

‘I see.'

‘Eddie – can I call you Eddie?'

‘Sure, why not?'

‘Eddie, I need your help.'

‘What makes you think I can help you?'

‘Vegas is your town,' Hughes said. ‘I need somebody who knows this town in and out. That's you.'

‘Is that what you've been told?'

‘It's what I know from all the information I've gathered,' Hughes said.

I turned my head and looked at the television screen. There was a game show on, one I didn't recognize.

‘What have you found out, exactly?'

‘So you want a brief history?' he asked. ‘About Brooklyn, your brother … your father?'

‘We can skip all that,' I said. ‘Why don't you start with when I got to Vegas.'

‘There's no need to go that far back, either,' he said. ‘You're the man everyone comes to when they need something in Vegas. The mob, Hollywood, gamblers, they all know who Eddie G. is.'

‘I think you're giving me more credit than I deserve?' I said.

‘Not when Momo Giancana and Frank Sinatra consider you a vital … friend. Not to mention the Kennedy clan.'

I almost said, ‘I see,' again, but instead I kept quiet. Let the billionaire naked man come to the point on his own, I thought.

‘Not that I am friends with either of them,' he went on, ‘but no matter. Their opinions matter to me – at least in this instance.'

‘And what instance would that be?'

‘I'm thinking of coming into Vegas in a big way.'

‘A big way?'

‘Yes,' Hughes said, ‘I want to buy some casinos.'

‘Which ones did you have in mind?' I was hoping he wasn't going to say the Sands. Entratter would hit the ceiling with that news.

‘That's where I need your help,' Hughes said.

‘What can I tell you?'

‘You can tell me which casinos are ripe to be taken over,' he said.

I laughed and said, ‘How would I know that?'

‘Don't be modest, Eddie,' Hughes said. ‘When I check somebody out and decide that they're my man, I don't change my mind. I'll pay you well for the information, of course.'

‘Let me get this straight,' I said. ‘All you want me to do is tell you which casinos you should try to buy?'

‘That's right,' Hughes said, ‘and I understand how firmly entrenched the mob is in Vegas. I'm not trying to buck them. I'm just trying for a piece of the pie.'

And knowing what I knew about Howard Hughes, that would have to be a big fucking piece.

I
sat quietly for a moment, mostly because I didn't know exactly what to say.

‘Look,' Hughes said, ‘I know you've heard a lot of stories about me. Some of them are true. And seeing me sitting here naked, you probably think the wrong ones are true.'

‘I've heard you're a brilliant businessman,' I said. ‘I've heard that you've been successful and made a fortune at everything you've ever tried. I assume those stories are true.'

‘They are.'

‘I've heard that you have a checkered past with women, and that you're very demanding in both your private and business life.'

‘Again, all true.'

‘I've heard that you're crazy.' I said that before I had a chance to change my mind.

‘And I've heard that you speak your mind,' Hughes said. ‘I'm glad to see that's true.'

I remained silent again.

‘I'm not crazy,' he said.

‘Glad to hear it.'

‘Not all the time, anyway,' Hughes added. ‘Like anyone else, I have my moments.'

‘Of course.'

‘Look,' he said, ‘take some time. Think it over. Get back to me in … a few days.'

‘You'll be here?'

‘Right here,' he said.

‘Not thinking about leaving the hotel?'

He smiled.

‘Not planning on leaving this room, Eddie,' he said. ‘Can we agree that you'll think about it?'

‘I think I can agree to that.'

‘Good, good,' Hughes said. ‘I assume Maheu gave you his numbers?'

‘He did.'

‘Then you can call him when you want to see me again,' Hughes said. ‘He'll arrange it.'

‘All right.'

I stood up.

‘Do you want any money?' he asked.

I wasn't sure I'd heard him right.

‘What?'

‘Money,' he said, ‘like an advance? A retainer?'

‘I'm not a private eye or a lawyer, Mr Hughes,' I said. ‘No, I don't need any money. Not if all I'm going to do for now is think about your offer.'

‘Fine,' Hughes said. ‘I won't try to throw money at you, then. I'll wait to hear from you.'

‘All right.'

I turned and headed for the door.

‘Do me a favor, will you?' he asked.

‘What's that?'

‘Turn the volume up on the TV?'

I looked at him. For the first time since I'd entered the room he looked like he was in pain. If it hurt to be touched by his clothes or his shoes, I wondered how he withstood sitting on the leather sofa, or even walking on the rug?

I walked to the door, waited a moment to see if he wanted anything else, and then left.

‘Done?' the bodyguard asked.

‘For now.'

‘Come on,' he said, ‘I'll take you to the elevator.'

‘I know the way.'

He waved for me to precede him.

‘So,' he said, and I knew what was coming, ‘what's he like?'

‘What have you heard he's like?'

‘Brilliant,' he said, ‘and crazy.'

‘One of those must be right,' I said.

A
lthough I wasn't supposed to be working, I just naturally headed for the Sands. It was my home away from home. Actually, there were times it felt more like home than my house did. If I was ever driving and allowed my mind to wander, I automatically headed for the Sands.

I parked the Caddy, went in and took the elevator to Jack's floor. His girl wasn't sitting at her desk – which was odd – so I went right in.

‘Where's the keeper of the gate?' I asked.

‘Huh? What?' Entratter looked up from his desk. ‘Oh, she still ain't out there? Damn it, I haven't seen her in hours. I don't know what's goin' on with her. She's been off lately.'

‘Lately?' I sat across from him.

‘What's on your mind?' he asked, then his eyebrows shot up. ‘Wait. Did you see him? Hughes?'

‘I did, this morning,' I said.

‘What did he want?'

‘“What did he want?” That's what you ask? Not what he's like, is he crazy, are the stories true?'

Entratter waved his hand and said, ‘I know the answers to all those questions. Tell me what he wanted. Why is he in Vegas?'

‘Well, this is really strange—' I started, but I was interrupted by somebody who ran into the room.

‘Mr Entratter, y-you better come quick!' she said, her eyes wide. I stood up and looked at her. It was Marcia Clarkson, a pretty brunette who worked down the hall. We had gone out once, and had stayed friends. To me she was Marcy.

‘Eddie! Jesus,' she said, when she saw me, ‘y-you gotta come.'

‘Where?'

She waved at us and said, ‘Come on, come on …'

I looked at Entratter, who got up from his desk, and we followed her out of the room and down the hall.

‘There,' she said, pointing to the ladies' room. ‘I-in there.'

I looked at Jack, who looked at me, and then I pushed the door open and went in.

She was hanging from a pipe in the ceiling, by a belt that had been looped around her neck.

‘Oh my God!' Marcy said, covering her face and turning away.

Jack Entratter said, ‘Shit.'

It was his girl.

‘Helen,' he said.

I think that might have been the first time I ever heard her name.

W
e had no choice but to call the police.

‘This ain't somethin' we can handle ourselves,' Jack said.

Jack went to his office to make the call. I took Marcy back to her office and sat her down at her desk. She was shaking, and I got her a glass of water. Whiskey probably would have been better.

‘What happened?' I asked.

‘I don't know,' she said. ‘I had to go to the bathroom. When I unlocked the door and went in, she was there. Hanging like that.'

‘You unlocked the door?'

‘Yes, we keep it locked. I have a key in my drawer, and she has one in hers. If anyone else wants to use the bathroom they come to one of us for the key.'

‘So her key must be on her,' I said.

‘I guess.'

‘Give me your key, Marcy.'

‘Why?'

‘I better lock that door. We don't want anyone else going in til the cops get here.'

‘Oh,' she said. ‘All right.' She put her hand in the pocket of her jacket and came out with a key.

‘Stay here,' I said. ‘I'll be right back.'

I went down the hall to the ladies' room, started to lock the door, then stopped. I looked around, saw that I was alone in the hallway. Instead of locking the door, I went inside.

Helen was hanging from the pipe, swaying only slightly. The pipe was only exposed because the ceiling was being worked on by workmen. Any other time it couldn't have been done without breaking through the ceiling tiles. Like Marcy, she was wearing a jacket. I steeled myself, and went through the pockets.