You Make Me Feel So Dead (12 page)

‘Well …' I said.

‘I'm gonna order some more dessert from room service,' he said. ‘You want somethin'?'

‘Coffee,' I said, ‘lots and lots of coffee.'

‘Comin' up …'

He ordered several pots of coffee, brownies, banana pudding, ice cream – chocolate and vanilla – with shredded coconut and other toppings. From the bar he got a six pack of Pepsi.

We sat on the sofa with this repast spread out before us and I said, ‘Are we gonna watch TV?'

‘After you tell me the story of this murder,' he said. ‘The whole story.'

‘Well, Elvis,' I said, ‘I don't know that I have the right to tell you all—'

‘Eddie,' he said, ‘I may be a country boy from Tupelo, but I ain't stupid.'

‘I never thought you were.'

‘Then don't you think I know why the Colonel wants you around me? To see that I don't get into trouble with my boys?'

‘Uh …'

‘To see that I don't give a butt load of money to some phoney preacher guy?'

‘Well …'

‘To see that I don't get into trouble any one of a dozen other ways I can find here in Sin City?'

‘What are we doin' here, Elvis?'

He spread his hands out over the food on the coffee table and said, ‘We're just two guys havin' dessert and talkin' about the events of the day.'

‘Events of the day?'

‘Yeah,' he said, picking up a brownie. ‘Why don't we start with murder?'

I leaned forward, poured myself a cup of coffee, picked up a brownie and said, ‘So, there's this guy named Reynolds …'

Elvis' attention – except for an occasional bite of brownie or spoon full of banana pudding – was absolute. I did keep some things back, things that were Danny and Penny's business only, and certain things about what Jerry actually did for a living. And the parts about my past dealings with Detective Hargrove. I mean, he didn't need to know
everything
.

When I was done he leaned back and said, ‘Wow. This is better than a movie. And it's sure a dang sight better than any of my movies.'

‘Some of your movies are pretty good,' I offered, but he ignored me.

‘So what are you gonna do next?'

‘Right now it's up to Danny and his lawyer,' I explained.

‘You ain't gonna keep workin' the case?' he asked, eyes wide with surprise. Or maybe he was just disappointed in me.

‘Elvis,' I said, ‘I'm not a detective. I did what I could, but the rest is up to them.'

‘But the gal came to you for help,' he said. ‘And so did your buddy. And when your buddy's in trouble you got to do somethin' about it.'

Oh great, I thought, he thinks this is
The Maltese Falcon
.

‘Elvis,' I said, ‘I'm ready and willing to give Danny any help he needs. We've been friends for a long time. But he's the detective, and he has a lawyer. They're the professionals, not me.'

He popped a Pepsi can open, drained half of it and put it down on the table. He seemed to be thinking hard about something before he spoke again.

‘Well, OK,' he said. ‘How about watching one of those westerns?'

‘Sure,' I said, ‘right now I've got nothing better to do.'

In the morning I was going to have to call the Colonel – and probably Frank – and tell them that Elvis had scoped me out. Elvis was right, his good ol' boy surface did make people underestimate him.

‘Let's get some popcorn,' he said, grabbing the phone and dialing room service. ‘You like butter? I really like it with butter.'

‘Sure, butter's fine.'

Jesus, I thought, I'm going to need Jerry's constitution just to keep up with him.

I
watched two movies with Elvis and we didn't talk about the murder case again. He seemed to have forgotten about the whole thing, but I wasn't going to underestimate him again.

‘I got to get some shut eye,' he said, after the second movie. ‘There's a rehearsal in the morning, and a thing to do with Ann for the movie in the afternoon. You wanna come to one of those?'

‘You know the Colonel sent me to watch you and you still want me around?' I asked.

‘Well, sure, Eddie,' he said, slapping me on the shoulder. ‘Dang, boy, I like you!'

‘Well then … yeah, I'd like to do the afternoon thing with you and Ann-Margret.'

‘OK, then.' He walked me to the door. ‘Meet me here at one and we'll go together.'

‘What about the others?'

‘Well, maybe Red,' he said. ‘And, oh yeah, bring Jerry. I like that big guy, too. Sure would like to spar with him.'

‘We can probably arrange that.'

‘Good, good,' he said, opening the door ‘Then I'll see you at one. ‘night, Eddie.'

‘Good night, Elvis.'

He closed the door, leaving me standing in the hall, wondering if I'd done the right thing in telling him about the murder.

But then I figured, what harm could it have done?

When I got back to the Sands I called Jerry's room. It was late everywhere but Vegas, and I figured he'd be up. I was right. He was awake, and he wanted to talk.

‘Want me to come up?' I asked.

‘Naw, let's meet in the coffee shop—'

‘I can't eat another thing, Jerry,' I said. ‘Meet me in the bar and we'll have a drink.'

‘OK, Mr G.'

I was sitting at the bar in the Silver Queen Lounge when Jerry appeared. I had two beers waiting. He picked one up and gulped half. To him it was a sip, but to me it was a gulp.

‘I gotta tell ya, Mr G., that Ann-Margret,' he said, excitedly, ‘she's as sexy as Marilyn when you spend time with her that close up. When she gets a little older she's gonna be dangerous!'

‘I can't disagree with you there,' I said.

‘How'd it go with you and Mr Presley?'

‘We ate, watched TV, and talked.'

‘Talked about what?'

‘Murder.'

‘You told him about it?' he asked. ‘How much?'

‘Most of it.'

‘What'd he say?'

‘He was interested, excited, but he seemed to think it was my duty to solve the thing. I mean, he gave me that
Maltese Falcon
speech.'

‘I like that movie,' he said. ‘You mean that speech Sam Spade gives about doin' something about your partner gettin' killed?'

‘That's the one.'

‘Well, the dick ain't dead and he ain't your partner, but I guess I could see why he'd think that. You guys been friends a long time.'

‘Yeah, we have,' I said, ‘but like I told Elvis, I'm not a detective, Jerry.'

‘You got all the earmarks of a good private dick, Mr G.'

‘Thanks, Jerry, but I have a job. As long as Danny's on the street, he and his lawyer can work on the murder.'

‘Suit yerself, Mr G.,' he said. ‘What are we doin' tomorrow?'

‘Elvis has got a publicity thing in the afternoon. He invited us along.'

‘With Miss Margret?'

‘She'll be there.'

‘Good.'

At that moment Frank walked into the room, looked around, spotted us and headed over. Jerry saw where I was looking and turned his head.

‘Oh, I meant to tell you,' he said, ‘Mr S. was lookin' for ya, wanted me to call 'im as soon as I hears from you.'

‘So you told him we were meeting here?'

He looked at me like he was a puppy and I had a rolled-up newspaper in my hand.

‘Was that OK?'

‘It was fine, Jerry,' I said. ‘Just fine.'

F
rank was wearing a suit, nothing fancy, just a grey suit with a blue tie. Not something he'd wear on stage or out to dinner. He smiled broadly as he approached, and spread his arms out.

‘Well, here's my boys,' he said, putting an arm around each of us. ‘What'll you have? I'm buyin'.'

We had another beer each and he ordered a Martini.

‘I heard Elvis got to town today,' he said to me. ‘Everything all right?'

‘Everything's fine, Frank,' I said. ‘In fact, I just left him. He was going to bed.'

‘That's great,' Frank said. ‘He's a growin' boy, needs his sleep.'

‘He's a good kid,' I said.

‘That he is,' Frank said. ‘I talked to Jack, though. He said you might be havin' some other problems? Somethin' that might take you away from the, uh, task at hand?'

I looked at Jerry.

‘Jerry didn't tell me a thing,' Frank said, quickly. ‘In fact, Jack told me hardly anything. I think they were leavin' that up to you, Pally.'

I sighed, knowing I was going to have to tell the story – again.

‘Have a seat, Frank …'

‘I know Bardini,' Frank said.

‘Yes,' I said, ‘you've met him a few times.'

‘He's no killer. At least, not in this sense.'

‘I agree.'

‘So how are you gonna help him and stay on Elvis?' Frank asked.

‘I've done what I can for Danny, Frank,' I said. ‘My focus is on Elvis.'

‘Really?' Frank looked confused. ‘I thought you guys were friends. Partners, almost. What was it Bogart said about partners?'

‘That's what I said,' Jerry commented. ‘
The Maltese Falcon
.'

‘I love that movie,' Frank said.

‘Me, too,' Jerry agreed.

‘Hey, guys,' I said, ‘I'm not a private dick. I'm not Danny's partner. And if he needs me, he'll call me.'

‘Well,' Frank said, putting his empty Martini glass on the bar and getting to his feet, ‘if you need any help with either thing, give me a call. In fact, Dino'll be here tomorrow. You helped us plenty of times. I know he'd want to help your buddy, too.'

‘Thanks, Frank,' I said. ‘I appreciate that.'

Frank waved and left.

‘Wow,' Jerry said, ‘Mr S and Dino workin' with you on a murder case!'

‘I'm not working on a murder case, Jerry!' I said.

‘No, I know, I know,' he said, ‘but you never know … ya know?'

Man, I would replay that comment later!

I decided to drive home and sleep in my own bed. I told Jerry I'd catch up with him in the morning, and that he should have breakfast without me.

When the phone rang I groped for it while trying to steal a look at the clock. Seven a.m. I'd been in bed exactly three hours.

‘Yeah, wha—'

‘Eddie? Eddie, it's Penny.' Her voice sounded panicked. ‘They did it again, Eddie. They just came for Danny and arrested him. And this time they say they have proof!'

I
ran into Kaminsky on the front steps of the station, the same briefcase tucked under his arm. Penny said she would call him after we hung up. I wondered why she didn't call him first.

‘What's going on, Mr Kaminsky?' I asked.

‘I suspect I know what you know, Bubula,' he said. ‘I've got to get inside to find out more. You want in?'

‘How are you going to get me in?' I asked.

‘From this point on,' he said, ‘you're my investigator.' He took a dollar from his pocket and handed it to me.

‘OK,' I said, pocketing the bill, ‘boss.'

We went inside together.

Hargrove was incensed.

‘What do you mean he's your investigator?' he demanded. ‘That's bullshit!'

‘He's working for me. Getting his time in so he can get his PI ticket,' Kaminsky said.

‘You paid?' Hargrove demanded of me.

The one dollar bill was burning a hole in my pocket as I said, ‘I am.'

Hargrove looked over at Martin and said, ‘OK, let 'em in.'

Martin took us down the hall from the bull pen to the interview rooms.

‘Detective, would you like to tell me why you've dragged my client back in here less than twenty-four hours after you cut him loose?' Kaminsky asked.

‘New evidence,' Martin said.

‘What new evidence?'

We stopped in front of the door to the same interview room as before and Martin turned to face us.

‘Hargrove would have my ass if he knew I told you,' he said.

‘Then why tell us?' I asked.

‘Maybe because he's a prick,' he said. ‘We got the ballistics report back. The bullet in the victim matches your boy's gun. You better convince him to come clean.' He opened the door. ‘Go ahead.'

We went into the room, found Danny sitting at the same table. He wasn't quite as disheveled as last time. In fact, he'd had a good night's sleep and a shower, but they must have pulled him out of bed because he looked as if he had dressed in a hurry.

‘Well,' he said, ‘my team, prompt for a change. Kaminsky, get me out of here.'

‘Might not be as easy as last time,
boychik
,' Kaminsky said.

‘Why not?'

Kaminsky sat across from Danny. I stood behind him.

‘How'd you get Eddie in here?'

‘He's Kaminsky's paid investigator.'

‘Is that right?' Danny asked. ‘Eddie, be careful, you might not think that's a promotion.'

‘Danny,' I said, ‘listen to Kaminsky.'

‘What's it all about, Kaminsky?' Danny said. ‘Why am I back here?'

‘They got their ballistics report back on the bullet that killed Reynolds,' Kaminsky said.

Danny stiffened. ‘And?'

‘It matches your gun, Danny,' the lawyer said. ‘You want to explain that one to me?'

Danny sat back in his chair. ‘I can't.'

‘Why not?'

‘Because I don't know,' Danny said. ‘I don't know how that's possible. I didn't kill him.'

‘Danny—'

‘Don't, Kaminsky,' Danny said. ‘I know what you're gonna say. You can't help me if I don't tell you the truth.'